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Martini Ranch Chicago


Ode to a Martini Drinker — by Sold Cober
Strankle, strankle, little twink,
Who the hell you are I think,
I’m not under what they call
The alcofluence of incohol.
I’m not drunk as thinkle peep,
I’m just a little slort of sheep.
Tee martoonis make a guy
Fool so feelish, don’t know why
Rally don’t know who’s me yet
The drunker I stay the longer I get
So just one more to fill my cup
I’ve all day sober to Sunday up.

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