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The late Saturday night, toked-up rhyming session June 09, 2003 ~ 1:58 p.m. It was getting on 11 p.m. in Amsterdam Saturday night, and all three of us were in our beds. The ladies had their heads on their pillows, but I was propped up, smoking hash. We just started making up silly little rhymes, especially praying on the stereotypes of nations: For instance, some of the better ones included: �I could be a Yank and have money in the bank.� �I could be a limey and say, �Cor blimey.�� �I could be an Aussie and not wear a cozzy.� (A cozzy is a swimsuit.) �I could be a Canuck and be shit outta luck.� The funniest one of all, the one that had us in fits, was this: �I could be a Kraut and order you out.� My wife then tried, �I could be a Swede �,� and while the two of us racked our brains for a suitable rhyme, it was Jo, whom I thought had fallen asleep by this stage, who finished it: �I could be a Swede and say �gimme some weed.�� That also had us in fits. Funnily enough, we just couldn�t come up with a good slur against the French no matter how we tried. We tried, �I could be a Frog and do a great log,� but it sounded too juvenile and didn�t elicit many laughs. Ah, come to think of it, it was all juvenile. � M.E.M.
Copyright � 2001-2007 by M.E. Manning. All material is written by me, unless explicitly stated otherwise by use of footnotes or bylines. Do not copy or redistribute without my permission.
AMERICA FOR TRUE AMERICANS!
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