to you.
it was rough sailing coming
over on the Mayflower
that my travel agent booked
for me and my
new bride,
Mary Astor Stoffer.
we were
months and months
at sea.
we were out there for so
long, that even
the women
grew beards. we survived by
eating hardtack
and fish, salted meat,
drinking beer,
taking medicinal sips
from a barrel
booze.
try sleeping on a wooden
deck
for two months,
rocking back and forth,
getting seasick with
no running water or
bathrooms,
it seemed like forever
when someone finally yelled out
land ho.
and then the arrows
started flying in,
but we didn't care, we got
off and started
chopping trees making houses,
and creating stylish
clothes out of the abundance
of deer and squirrels.
when we finally got off that
stinking ship, i immediately
sent my travel
agent a nasty note
about the accommodations
via carrier pigeon,
of course he never wrote back.
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