A Real Preach At The Beach!

So last year the cat went on at his mat about nuts at the beach who like to preach. Of course that time he was just having a little fun but sadly this time when he was out under the sun, in the giant litter box, away they strolled with their knee-high socks.

Do you have a minute sir?

They already ruffled my fur,

Talking to me like that.

So I trotted off and let them pick on Pat.

Don't you think it is hideous the way these women are dressed?

Yup, I knew they were going to be a pest.

Pat grunted and looked away.

That did not go over well with their fray.

Can't you answer a simple question?

Is that a question or suggestion?

I said question, can't you answer it?

Can you pop that zit?

Oh wait that is a mole.

No wonder you have a face like a lump of coal.

Don't get lippy with me.

All of this is blasphemy.

Then there was that word.

Oh how I knew they were absurd.

Who in the heck goes to a beach,

dressed with knee-high socks to preach?

They really must have been sweating up their ass crack,

The whole freaking annoying pack.

And then they went even further into despair,

Asking that if I really care,

I would give them a donation.

It sounded more like a proclamation.

As out came the hand,

so I filled it full of sand.

Told them not to spend it all in one place,

Should have seen the look on their face.

They crossed themselves as Pat walked off.

I bet they wanted to dunk him in a holy horse trough.

That is the first time I ever had to deal with that crap,

Anywhere near the spot on my map.

I guess as the waves swell,

They think everyone that is half naked is going to hell.

You know what they say about hell in a handbasket,

I bet though still ask for 10 grand when I'm in a casket.

Oh how they swarm like flies,

Asking for dough and pretending they are wise.

Yes, Pat really had to deal with that crap. But he wasn't about to fall into their trap. Next time he told me to dig a big hole then we could at least bury the one with the ugly mole. Gloria will have some company then as she is still buried at my den. Maybe they'll stay home and preach to Sunday school class, and never again bother my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.