There are some things in sl that completely defy description – things that, if you were to relate them in any other setting would result in you spending a spell in a padded room, wearing backwards buckled pyjamas.

Normally i’d consider such things pretty fair game for retelling here, since you’re all a fairly enlightened bunch, for whom the sort of curve balls that sl occasionally throws at us are all in a day’s work and will, at most, result in a slightly raised eyebrow.

Some things, however, go beyond anything that even the most seasoned sl resident is accustomed to and your erstwhile blogger is faced with the dilemma of deciding what exactly is within the public interest to disclose, whilst remaining on the safe side of public decency. Then there’s the question of personal privacy and the risk of embarrassment – i’ve no qualms about mercilessly embarrassing my friends at the appropriate moment, and i’d hope that they’d feel the same about embarrassing me… even so, there’s a lot to be said for ‘what happens in sl, stays in sl’.

On this particular occasion, the decision to go to print was made a little easier by my victim’s terribly rude comment about vajazzling and Welsh sheep… well, i’m afraid some things are just unforgivable! However, i’m not so mean and mercenary that i don’t have a heart – so, rather than give a complete blow-by-blow account of the extraordinary revelations of last Friday, i thought it would be more fun to deal with the whole sordid affair in a tongue in cheek way, (if you’ll excuse the expression!)…

It’s A Dog’s Life

There once was a DJ called Slate
who had an unusual trait
Whilst down on the job
he kept the poor dog
in the same room, the fun to partake

Poor Yorkie, well what could he do?
He’s a dog, not like me or like you –
While we could read a book
He could only sit there and look
at Slate’s bobbing rear – what a view!

So Yorkie hatched his great plan
Thinking, “I’ll do what I can”
He jumped up on the bed
and, ducking his head,
started lapping as fast as he can!

Slate jumped off the bed in a fright
and frantically turned on the light;
He phoned up the vet
for advice on his pet –
The vet said, “I’m afraid that’s not right!”

 “Although, in my experience
Yorkie’s  just being obedient –
as any dog would, in his place.
Could you expect any more,
when you’ve shut the door
and you’re wiggling your bum in his face?”

Sadly, my story’s not done;
and it won’t end in fun
a sad ending, i’m afraid, will be found.
Slate’s hamster got scared
at the tales Yorkie shared
and jumped in the fish tank and drowned!

S. x

Crawling down the alley on your hands and knee,
I’m sure you’re not protected, for its plain to see
Diamond Dogs are poachers, and they hide behind trees
David Bowie – Diamond Dogs 

This entry was posted in Poetricity, SL. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Yorkie

  1. Slate says:

    Awesome !!

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