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Masianya
Cat Head Theatre
The most popular poem by Martin Cooke
vodka is my heroin
makes me smooth and loose and balmy
brings me tears of integration
on it I am cool and charming
vodka loves me through the night
the longest night the coldest mourning
fixes me - improves my sight
vodka makes me hard and horny
vodka is my den of vice
my winning way my drug of choice
vodka is my god and kick
vodka is my lover brother
guru mate my inner voice
makes me warmer than my chick
can t let go I can t come off it
I m a hero when I m on its
rocket fuel the buzz etcetera
vodka is my fun and frolic
fantasy and raison d etre - vodka is my gin and tonic
vodka s my philosophy
vodka makes me whole and healthy
vodka makes me dance and skip
vodka makes me smart and wealthy
vodka takes me on a trip
vodka gives me energy
soothes my truths my introspection
stops my nerves from rattling
vodka smoothes my futile gestures
stops the worst from happening
vodka cures me of my cancers
vodka is my babe my hero
vodka is my crack my dope
vodka is my smack my nero
vodka stops me worrying
so maybe I ll elope and live in sin
with vodka vodka give me vodka
vodka make my kidneys bleed
god oh god oh give me vodka
she can be the death of me
vodka vodka give me vodka
vodka give my liver aid
take me take me like an advert
piss my bruises to their grave.
When I was younger I hated going to weddings; it seemed that all of my aunts and the grandmotherly types used to come up to me, poke me in the ribs and cackle, "You're next."
They stopped that kind of thing after I started doing the same thing to them at funerals.
A customer was bothering the waiter in a restaurant. First, he asked that the air conditioning be turned up because he was too hot, then he asked it be turned down ‘cause he was too cold, and so on for about half an hour.
Surprisingly, the waiter was very patient, he walked back and forth and never once got angry. So finally, a second customer asked him why he didn't throw out the pest.
"Oh, I really don't care or mind," said the waiter with a smile. "We don't even have an air conditioner."
A new York Divorce Lawyer died and arrived at the Pearly Gates. Saint Peter asks him, "What have you done to merit entrance into Heaven?"
The Lawyer thought a moment, then said, "A week ago, I gave a quarter to a homeless person on the street."
Saint Peter asked Gabriel to check this out in the record, and after a moment Gabriel affirmed that this was true.
Saint Peter said, "Well, that's fine, but it's not really quite enough to get you into Heaven."
The Lawyer said, "Wait Wait! There's more! Three years ago I also gave a homeless person a quarter." Saint Peter nodded to Gabriel, who after a moment nodded back, affirming this, too, had been verified.
Saint Peter then whispered to Gabriel, "Well, what do you suggest we do with this fellow?"
Gabriel gave the Lawyer a sidelong glance, then said to Saint Peter,
"Let's give him back his 50 cents and tell him to go to Hell."
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