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.... for gourd's sake
By Lehan Winifred Ramsay
1 What advantage then hath the Publican? or what profit (is there) of circumcision?
2 Much every way: chiefly, because that until the stirring of the Oracles the drinkers were commited.
3 For what if some should not continue their drinking? shall their women sunder the faith without effect?
4 God forbid: yea, let the Gourd be true, and every man a drinker; as it is written, That though mightest be absolved in thy Tab, and mightest overcome The Stirring when thou art served.
5 But if our unrighteous commend the righteousness of Forsaking the Gourd before it Closeth, what shall we say? And Is She who taketh our man Foodge from the Gourd a vain Gent? (I speak as a man)
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 
I am impressed with the burgeoning of tactile devices available on the assisted technology market now you mention it, H. I edited a resource manual for the vision impaired and in fact telephoned the author at that time from a women’s toilet down McLaren Vale way only in rapturous wonder about the hot-cold raised flush buttons and those sumptious doors. Out of date now, eh, look. 😉
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Oops, sorry, the wrong door….
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Pardon me Sir; your gourd is showing.
A land of burning plains and gourd by sea.
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A Panegyric to The Penis Gourd
The gourd is my guard
I shall not fret
It keeps my penis housed
so its warm not wet
I made it from a marrow
I got from out the garden
I dried it and I polished it
eventually it hardened
I wear it on a string
That I tie around my waist
Now I know this highland fashion
Isn’t everybody’s taste
But with mozzies built by Boeing
And the rain and all the heat
I’d rather have my penis gourd
than Florsheims on my feet.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/28421453@N07/5035876456/
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Glad you published a picky of your gourd, Wazz.
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Good one!
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It’s a long trip to the tip Waz as I was in fact remarking in my own psalm regards Foodge Decorators and Painters to the Boss, but boys will be boys you reely silly willy goat showing off like that. 🙂
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You really should know by now Show that boys never grow up, they just become men with boyish ways.
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Piglet Warrigal, you are a scallywag nevertheless a goodie.
Mmm.. in truth I think the gentleman is so modest.
(Blush and you men grown from boys are playful piglets and that is gold.)
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Foodge isn’t around (he’s in transit between Uncle Big M’s ang Uncle Emmjay’s places), but I’m sure he’d be gobsmacked to know that a Psalm has been written in his honour!
P.S. Like the Gawd.
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