That was great, I'm gonna have to forward that to a few people!

 

I just wrote an extra stanza for the poem:


"All alone at the light, I stare at my watch,
A sinking feeling coming over my crotch.
Impotent I am, and impotent I remain,
As long as I keeping driving a car that brings shame."

 

Okay, I can't help myself, here's a couple of more verses:


"So remember boys & girls, that if you drive rice,
Beating a Mustang’s a role of the dice.
Without rockets, nitrous, turbos and blowers,
You’d best go back to racing lawn mowers.

Without the aforementioned, I'm sorry to say,
We'll always be able to keep you at bay.
Thus unless you wish to have egg on your face,
Stay away from those Mustangs, you’ll just lose the race."

 

LOL...that's great! Here's my addition:

In conclussion, beating a Mustang just can't be done,
This race is all over before it's begun.
So pull down your pants to right at the knees,
Turn your hat backwards and lay off the trees.
If you've been a good little ricer, and Santa's alive,
Pray for a Christmas that includes an '05!