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I was wondering what would it be like if Robert Service was on this forum. He may roll over in his grave, but here is my poem. :)

There are strange things done 'neath the ghetto sun

In the parks where Gaffer roams

Where the sites are strange

And the wierdos range

And trannies make thier homes.

:lol: :lol: DC ( And his momma cried.)
 
Do, the thing that buys me beer

Ray, the guy that sells me beer

Me, the guy that drinks the beer

Fa, the distance to my beer

So, I think I'll have a beer

La, la la la la la beer

Tee, no thanks I'm havin' beer

And that brings us back to DOH!

:lol: DC
 
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