Please stay and cruise a little, with me, in these pages
This is me: about to do 123.7 mph, in a stock-car, at Richard Petty's
raceway; Disneyworld, Florida, September 1997
Here's one of my poems (made up for a merry dinner)
There was a middle aged shrink, who found that most men could not think
further than money, or helpings of honey, or where they could get the next
drink!
She chanced on a sea-faring clown; who turned her thoughts quite upside
down. He knew all of Freud, and was poor, but so shrewd, that he never
wanted to go out on the town.
She couldn't decide if he was true or he lied, a saint or a sinner,
who cooked his own dinner. She said he was normal in a voice very formal.
And anything else is confidential and beside the point!
