SOMEONE CALLED ME A GIT ON MY BIRTHDAY, AND LIKE SHERLOCK, I KNOW WHERE THEY ARE

Someone wrote about me today, calling me a wanker, and a little git,

I figure they must be from Great Britain, because that sounds like it's English Writ,     

First of all, I have to take a tea pause,

And admit there is not a Santa Claus,

If there were a Santa, you'd find in your stocking, a 3 liter Santa zit.

Thanks to all my loving family members living in Great Britain, for all the cards festooned with loving wishes, that I'm sure you considered sending me.  Oh Dear, if only the postage was cheaper. Of course, an email with an emoji would have been nice, ma.

Leigh Collin Brandt

E AND GREEN BETTY

My friend Mr. E was a POI,

A person of interest, maybe a spy,

He spoke fluent Yeti,

Dated his secretary, Green Betty, 

Almost everything that he said was a lie.

Mr. E's secretary always wore green,

She matched the wallpaper and was seldom seen,

What she overheard, 

She recalled word for word,

Mr. E didn't need a recording machine.

Mr. E vanished shortly after the war,

Some say his enemies just evened a score,

The police found blood and makeup on his bedroom door,

And, one red-stained handkerchief on his living room floor,

The red stain turned out to be wine, just wine, nothing more, 

Betty died at age eighty, unmarried and all alone,

She still had Mr. E's stuff and number on his phone,

Betty said she knew nothing of E's vanishing thing,

But, she wore a rare green diamond in a gold wedding ring,

And, was buried next to a grave that had just "E" on the stone.

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