That's a hilarious poem! :) I've never made pickles. I know my husband would love it if I did. At some point, though, you have to decide that you're busy enough. ;)
This year I made Half Sour as well as bread and butter and Dill. I found a poem to go with them. My car is constructed of pickles. It's wonderfully crunchy and sweet. If ever I'm hungry while driving I pull off a pickle to eat.
The engine is made out of gherkins. The dashboard's an extra-large dill. The windows and wipers are kosher as well as the bumpers and grille.
The hood's made of hamburger slices. The gas tank is brimming with brine. The doors are delectably salty. The stickshift is simply divine.
There's one little problem I'm having. I'm sure you would know what I mean if ever you saw this contraption; my marvelous pickle machine.
I guess I've included my auto in just a few too many meals and now it won't budge when I start it; it seems I have eaten the wheels. --Kenn Nesbitt
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