My father had an ancestor in France....
who did clean-up after each beheading.
One gal's neck was too tough, and she lived.
Not long after was his and her wedding.
...
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This poem rated very well with all Canadians I am told. The French of course denied that they had anyone clean up after the beheadings out of fear that Bri would demand his great-great-grandfather's pension. The Hatfields of the United States wish to remind the kin of a real McCoy that they still have a few fighting words they'd like to share. Oh and Karl says 'he's far from sated'. Fun poem. Thanks for sharing.
So you have an interesting lineage.... taking your roots from the French..... Somehow you are neither French nor American.... This is what all your research ultimately proved....! Your parents marriage...' at times proved a bomb.'...! No pretensions...! So candid with no intention to hide... Enjoyed this humorous write!
i was born like my father's dad and will die like my grandfather surfing at Hawaii the story more shorter than Bri! s a genealogy veils in biology.... hahahaha nice reading Bri... as usual funny and light
i see i misspelled granddad; i typed grandad! well, that IS the way it is pronounced! ! ! ! ! give me a break. i think i've corrected it; come on PH. bri :)
Removed OKIE comment just for you! Please check your mail though! You must have 5 Emails from me! If they are not in your mailbox please let me know!