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Back when the neighbors had dairy cows, we used to get our milk direct from the udder. Unpasteurized, no growth hormone, no antibiotic whole milk. Course, back then we were told by the FDA and the food scientists that this would increase our chances of heart disease and diabetes. But …! If we took a baby aspirin a day, we could lessen those chances. Sort of like driving over the speed limit but wearing a seat belt. You get in a wreck, you might survive..... More at The Skeeter Daddle Diaries ➜

Round about,
no matter,
what its name,
is still a silly,
adult game.

When love,
hits you in the eye,
like a big piece of pie,
that's abuse.

To be eaten,
by a pack of dogs
not where I would,
want to be,
I, unless of course the one
who was eating, happened,
to be me.

What are the thoughts
which pique your mind,
when you thought, who might,
that even be.

It will take more than words,
when you apologize,
for your behavior,
no matter the size,

needs room for improvement,
in your behavior, for lying
about a reason, which you know
is untrue, puts all of the onus on you.

A piece of cloth.
A piece of rug,
when you need,
you may have a bug.

A small cloth,
I do suppose,
is worth a lot,
when you blow your nose.

When yesterday is over,
is that when today begins.
Does that mean tomorrow,
will be an also ran?

Poses the dark cloud,
well above his head.
He thought he was awake,
yet he's still in bed.

What is your agenda today,
was asked and said?
Why I intend to keep,
staying in my bed.

My mind goes in circles,
is always my dread.
I have less chance of falling,
when I stay in my bed.

Falling is a no, no,
it is often said,
for when you fall,
you may hit your head.

Too many bruises,
you see often, instead,
when you trip and stumble,
on your way to your bed.

No more tomorrows,
after today.
Excuse me sir,
Say what. What did you say?

Do not make judgement calls,
when you don't know,
what's going on,
in this world, one step beyond.

A purple mouse,
is what I saw,
wearing an Ascot tie,
a foppish style,

in this day and age.
Cut to the nines,
when wearing those jeans,
of polka dots,
for any means.
The life of the party,
that was he,
for all who he loved,
it was for free.

I am not your buddy,
not your pal,
but am a friend of yours.
It's just me, not someone named Al

I'll write about everything,
which pops into my head.
Writing about being alive,
when our society seems dead.

Lack of civility by leaders
of sort,
who should have warned us,
and decided to abort.

No one likes a liar,
except, for this one.
We should have been listening.
Now, it's over and done.

How can you believe in
someone, who lies all the time?
Making disparaging remarks
about women and their character.

I don't understand,
and probably never will,
being told you will like him,
this New York City shill.