Thank you for visiting me and making this site an international success.
I would also like to acknowledge some of my pseudonym names: Tim Colin, Ted Colin, Mike Colin, Psychic Mystic Madam Misty Murky Merkel and Gerrard.
Enjoy browsing on this site and others I have created. My sites are all free to read and browse. You do not need a subscription to access any posts. Feel free to use "search" to quickly locate a subject that interests you.
Again, I thank everyone who has over the years, visited this site. I would not have kept publishing these many years, if it were not for your visitations.
I went to the bank to modify my home loan, I was offered an ink pen, a coffee, a scone, Although, many papers I signed, A few weeks later I'd find, My interest rate and my debts had both grown.
When I went out to mow my sod,
In my ear I stuck my pod,
I quenched my brain with tunes,
Turned my grasslands into dunes,
Then, went in to worship my lunch god.
My toaster did not toast too well,
It toasted mom's toast too toasty to jell,
So, I spread peanut butter,
Then, served it to mutter,
Who, disappointed, gave me a good yell.
Buster was a banjo player, He played the banjo well, But, the only song in his repertoire, Was the Overture to William Tell, Buster could not read or write, He didn't know one note from another, He only learned to play William Tell, From the whistling of his mother, Buster tried to learn new songs, He tried leaning them by ear, But, when he tried to play the songs, His audience would sob, "Oh Dear!" Buster became so frustrated, He decided not to play, He figured music was overrated, So, he sits and dreams all day.
My outdoor toilet was all full of flowers, They grew well after all the rain showers, They were such a bouquet, I just let them stay, My toilet is artwork that towers.
I had a quiet little dog that I called Hoagie,
He helped me cheat at golf, so I’d get a bogey,
With stealth he moved the ball,
Before the best eyes could call,
For a reward I’d buy me a stogy.
I wrote some real stinky prose, It was so bad it stuffed up my nose, So I punched my keyboards delete, The lines vanished, complete, They are gone where all stinky prose goes.
Quigley's family came from outer space,
They lacked human components like feet and face,
But, the world was fooled,
For the kids were home schooled,
While, the Quigleys dined on the human race.