Bas Posted April 27, 2021 Report Share Posted April 27, 2021 A bloody good, old fashioned poem - 'nuthin’ like ‘em This is particularly for those who remember what it was like to have a DUNNY! The Old Service Station The service station trade was slow. The owner sat around, With sharpened knife and cedar stick, Piled shavings on the ground. No modern facilities had they, - the log across the rill Led to a shack, marked His and Hers That sat against the hill. 'Where is the 'Ladies Restroom', sir?' - and the owner leaning back, Said not a word but whittled on - And nodded toward the shack. With quickened step she entered there But only stayed a minute, Until she screamed - just like a snake or spider might be in it. With startled look and beet red face She bounded out the door, - and headed quickly for the car Just like three gals before. She tripped and fell - pulled up her pants and then in obvious disgust - Ran to the car, stepped on the gas, And faded in the dust. Of course we all desired to know What made the gals all do the things they did - and then we found - the whittling owner knew. A 'Speaking System' he'd devised To make the thing complete, He'd fixed a 'Speaker' in the hole - just underneath the seat. He'd wait until the gals got set and then the devilish tike, would stop his whittling long enough, to speak into the mike. And as she sat, a voice below struck terror, fright and fear, 'Will you please use the other hole? We're painting under here'. 1 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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