Guest guest Posted January 11, 2008 Report Share Posted January 11, 2008 'TWAS THE MONTH AFTER CHRISTMAS 'Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse. The biscuits I'd nibbled, the champagne I'd taste At the holiday parties had gone to my waist. When I got on the scales there arose such a number! When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber). I'd remember the marvellous meals I'd prepared; The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared, The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please." As I dressed myself in my partner's old shirt And prepared once again to do battle with dirt I said to myself, as I only can "You can't spend all Summer disguised as a man!" So-away with the last of the sour cream dip, Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip Every last bit of food that I like must be banished 'Til all the additional ounces have vanished. I won't have a biscuit - not even a lick. I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick. I won't have hot scones, or cake, or fruit pie, I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry. I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore But isn't that what January is for? Unable to laugh, no longer a riot. Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet! Never miss a thing. Make your homepage. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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