Bit of bush: (Robbo) Give the grog away?
- ROBBO: GIVE THE GROG AWAY?
"Oh human whale," the quack, then said,
"this consumption rate will see you dead.
Your liver is crook, you're morbidly obese,
all hard drinking days, now have to cease.
Liver's fallen victim to raw spirit's attack,
with Cirrhosis holes eroded, front to back,
Your beer intake would keep a fleet afloat,
it's time to don, that total abstinence coat.
I did warn you about your brewer's droop,
why moan, after your missus flew the coop?
You best believe, this is spot on the button
stop the boozing, or you're dead as mutton."
"Crikey Doc," I said, "Is that the only deal?"
I had visions of abstinence, horrors, surreal.
"No more liquid lunches," that's all he said,
except for repeating, "Or you wind up dead."
Tell you fair dinkum, that sat me on my rear,
what a rotten ending, for dedication's career.
Hell, I've been a piss-ant long as I remember,
now my Social status he wants to dismember.
Can you imagine it swearing, off the grog,
giving back the dog house, to the family dog?
I crying now I tell you, I'll give you the rub,
I won't be chatting up barmaids, at the pub...
I'll be, a bloke without a purpose, I suppose,
by fate forever banished from the life I chose.
Forget, boozing on, with some drunken mate,
I'll be a morose bastard, tee-total, and sedate.
No more the wild philanderer, a total recluse,
with but memories of wenches, fast and loose.
Bereft of semblance, of any dead horse to flog
Can you imagine it, me, swearing off the grog?
©. Copyright: Bernard de Silva 2/10/2010.