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Discussion Starter #1

'Twas the night before raceday
And all through the house
There was bending of wrenches
From hubby to spouse.

The children were tucked
All snug in their beds
While visions of trophying
Danced in their heads.

The van in the driveway
Was ready to go
The leathers were polished
The helmets aglow.

Ma in her coveralls
And Pa in his jeans
Had just settled down
To work on the machines.

When from inside the engine
There arose such a clatter
He pulled off the head
To see what was the matter.

The light from the dropcord
On the new polished head
Showed nothing the matter
But the engine was dead.

When what to his wondering
Eyes should appear
But a busted up crank
And worn out main gear.

He knew in a moment
He must find the trick
To keep his scoot running
So rapid and quick.

"My spanner, my sockets
Put the light over here
Wife quit your bitchin'
Now hand me a beer".

He spoke not a word
But went straight to his work
Repaired the trouble
And turned with a jerk,

And laying his Coors can
Aside at his feet
Exclaimed with great pride
"I'll never be beat".

They heard him yell
As he drove out of sight
"Tomorrow I'll be first"
And they knew he was right,

For whenever he raced
He raced with his heart
But on Sunday morning
The bike wouldn't start.

2,080 Posts

formerly GHOST RIDER
2,132 Posts
love it and so true....:crackup::crackup:
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