A silly poem I wrote from my brother when he left town.
I once knew a man who had a red nose. He was quite poor and needed to water his garden, so he traded it in for a hose. I once new a man with a hose who liked flowers a lot. He had gotten a hose but now he needed a pot. He went to the store but before he got there, what did he see? A dealer beside the store selling the good stuff for half the usual fee. The man went to the store for a pot for his flower, yet he came back with the stuff, which you consume, and then take a cold shower. A cold shower the man did take, for he soon learned he would need a lot more, for he later found out, that under the influence, he begot a son with a whore. Now, to some this is a familiar story, yet tis foreign to others, I just thought I would share it with you as a warning, what with you being my brother. Have fun.