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Post by Chips on Aug 17, 2012 10:44:07 GMT 9.5
A Woman's Poem
He didn't like the casserole. And he didn't like my cake.
He said my biscuits were too hard... Not like his mother used to make.
I didn't perk the coffee right, He didn't like the stew,
I didn't mend his socks. The way his mother used to do.
I pondered for an answer. I was looking for a clue.
Then I turned around and smacked him on the head... Like his mother used to do.
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Post by Crystal Fox on Aug 17, 2012 13:57:05 GMT 9.5
This poem is so right, some men are very hard to please, but I have come up with something better. If a man complains that something isn't done right like his mum used too or that she's a better cook etc, then just tell them if you like your mum's cooking etc so much then move back in with her. But can she satisfy ALL your needs 'wink, wink, nudge, nudge.'
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Post by parkerdivine on Aug 17, 2012 19:59:37 GMT 9.5
Great poem, Chips....what a "romantic" compliment of sorts...
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Post by Cullyn Of Cerrmor on Aug 25, 2012 22:10:21 GMT 9.5
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Post by Mac McFadden on Aug 27, 2012 7:24:36 GMT 9.5
My mother was a terrible cook. She also had a nasty disposition.
When it came to dinner, she always gave us TWO choices: "Take it or leave it"
I NEVER complain about my wife's cooking.
Mac
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