The Pain in the Butt

The Pain in the Butt

Now I don’t like to say it,
But I guess I should alay it,
Admit the truth, and tell it like it is.
So I’ll go ahead and do it,
If you promise not to view it,
Like alka-seltzer pining for the fizz

My wife ain't very happy,
Say our marriage isn't scrappy,
And speaks her mind a brayin like a hound.
She says that I can't please her,
That my ‘Nads are in the freezer,
Spreading hateful rumors all around.

Now if she’s not a giving,
By the married duty living,
Can I be blamed a pint or two of ale?
Now what can she be thinkin,
A chidin me for drinking?
While standing there a curling up her tail.

She screams at me obscenely,
With demeanor most unqueenly,
Not caring if her words are indiscreet.
And her language isn't tacit...
Describing me as flacit,
To anyone encountered on street.

She posits me as fruity,
Then sullies her petooty,
And what the hell am I supposed to do?
I tries to give her pleasure,
But she gathers up the treasure
And leaves my need to simmer in the stew.

At Quick Trip I bought the papers,
Unsuspecting of her capers,
My buddy gettin favors with her ass.
When at the pumps I find her,
With my mate a'crouched behinder,
And it wasn't for dispensin any gas.

So now the two are livin
In sin that’s unforgivin,
And I’m no longer shacking with the snit.
And he’s obliged to listen,
To her moaning and her pissin,
And I’m not missin either one a bit.