Bev’s Dream Car

‘Twas the morning of Thursday, March the Twelfth,

I decided I needed to work on my health.

I pulled into the gym at the ass-crack of dawn,

After cursing my alarm as the Devil’s own spawn.

Most others were nestled all snug in their beds,

But I had a workout stuck in my head.

I snacked on an apple and prayed not to die,

Turning the corner, trying not to cry.

A mile from my house, I saw a great sight,

It just appeared in the beam of my lights.

I couldn’t believe it, could it really be?

My new best friend was again, so near me?

The moon hit the bumper (stickers) ever so right,

I was suddenly not mad it’s the middle of the night.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear…

Something I enjoy almost as much as cold beer!

I have yet to meet the driver, I bet he is SICK,

We’ll become best friends, his ride is too slick.

I assume it’s a he, because as we all know,

No female could drive this obvious shitshow.

We all grew up thinking that Barbie had the dream car,

But Bev is here to show you, that ‘Vette was just sub-par.

This rusted-out Civic is where it’s at,

Ken pimps this ride as the head of the frat.

I can always use more gym motivation,

Now I can use my new Ken-doll sensation.

He parks near the gym on Thursday mornings,

Soon I’ll be sitting shotgun, without warning.

My Ken and I will ride off into the sunset,

I’ll meet this hoopty’s owner, on that you can bet.

You’re all invited to our lavish wedding,

And in our Civic, we’ll be forever jet-setting.

-Bev