Lover's Lane

A cop was patrolling at night in a well-known parking spot. He sees a couple in a car, with the interior light brightly glowing. The cop carefully approaches the car to get a closer look. Then he sees a young man behind the wheel, reading a computer magazine. He immediately notices a young woman in the rear seat, knitting.

Puzzled by this surprising situation, the cop walks to the car and gently raps on the driver's window.

The young man lowers his window. "Uh, yes, officer?"

"What are you doing?"

"Well, isn't it obvious? I'm reading a magazine, sir."

Pointing towards the young woman in the back seat the cop says: "And her, what is she doing?"

The young man shrugs: "Sir, I believe she's knitting a pullover sweater."

Now, the cop is totally confused. A young couple. Alone, in a car, at night in a lover's lane. And nothing obscene is happening!

"What's your age, young man?"

"I'm 25, sir."

"And her... what's her age?"

The young man looks at his watch and replies: "She'll be 18 in 11 minutes

Redneck Love Poem

Collards are green,

my dog's name is Blue

and I'm so lucky

to have a sweet thang like you.

Yore hair is like cornsilk

a-flappin in the breeze.

Softer than Blue's

and without all them fleas.

You move like the bass,

which excite me in may.

You ain't got no scales

but I luv you anyway.

Yo're as satisfy'n as okry

jist a-fry'n in the pan.

Yo're as fragrant as "snuff"

right out of the can.

You have some'a yore teeth

for which I am proud.

I hold my head high

when we're in a crowd.

On special occasions,

when you shave under yore arms,

well, I'm in hawg heaven

and awed by yore charms.

Still them fellers at work,

they all want to know,

what I did to deserve

such a purdy, young doe.

Like a good roll of duct tape

yo're there fer yore man,

to patch up life's troubles

and fix what you can.

Yo're as cute as a junebug

a-buzzin' overhead.

You ain't mean like those far ants

I found in my bed.

Cut from the best cloth

like a plaid flannel shirt,

you spark up my life

more than a fresh load of dirt.

When you hold me real tight

like a padded gunrack,

my life is complete.

Ain't nuttin' I lack.

Yore complexion, it's perfection,

like the best vinyl sidin'

despite all the years,

yore age, it keeps hidin'.

Me "n" you's like a moon pie

with a RC cold drank,

we go together

like a skunk goes with stank.

Some men, they buy chocolate

for a Valentine's Day,

they git it at Wal-Mart,

it's romantic that way.

Some men git roses

on that special day

for the cooler at Krogers,

that's impressive, I say.

Some men buy fine diamonds

from a flea market booth.

"Diamonds are forever,"

they explain, suave and couth.

But for this man, honey,

these won't do.

Cause yo're too special,

you sweet thang you.

I got you a gift,

without taste nor odor,

more useful than diamonds...

It's a new troll'n motor!