Tuesday, March 10, 2009

My Obit

When times comes for me to be worm food, this is what my obit should say:

It comes as not much of a shock
Here lies the remains of Walk
Born a pipeliner's son
He never owned a golden gun
Instead he turned to the pen
And wrote of mice and men
Words was his prey
Until he fell into the bay
He sank like a rock
Our good friend Walk.


Anonymous said...

You possess a golden pen, Walk man. If all gun owners would replace their guns with pens, the world could be rewritten. Ahhhhh, just think....


Walk said...

Ah, golly, shucks. (Blush, blush). You are too kind my friend.

A far as replacing guns with pens, the old phase "The pen is mightier than the sword" is truly true.

Anonymous said...

Oh well--I still love to hunt, so I use both the pen and the gun (during season, that is).

Anyway, Walk, stay away from the bay. We're not ready to lose you yet!