a poem about delicious beasts and shameless gluttonyOne cow,
two cows,
three cows,
more...
Five cows,
six cows,
seven cows,
floor.
P.S. The last word of the poem is floor because that's where you spend the rest of the day; although, I could have ended the poem just as easily with 'sore', 'heartburn galore', or 'unable to fit through the door.'
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2 comments:
Holy cow!
I've heard a slight variation:
One tequila,
two tequila,
three tequila,
floor.
Perhaps you have an allergy to beef? Do you feel you are out of control? Can we get you an intervention?
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