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God Bless The Beatles
Eat your heart out, Emily Dickinson!

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Tee hee! Like whats up, everybody? Little ol' Heather speaking, and I'm hear to share with you some poems I've written over the past months. When Paul was all buisy with his new album thingy, I had a lot of free time on my hands. Sure, he'd say, "Heather, why don't you come listen to me record in the studio today?" But like, how boring is THAT?! I'd have to make up some excuse like, "Yeah hunny, I've got...ironing to do!" He knew better. "Heather, remember what happened the LAST time you tried ironing my new pants?" Yeah, yeah, so his pants caught on fire and I burned down the dining room. So what!? It wasn't MY fault. But back to my poems! Paul would work in the studio 25 hours a day (literally!) so that left me with nothing to do but express my creativity. So I did, in the form of poetry. Here for the first time ever are my totally neato poems for your enjoyment.

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"Heather Rhyming Thing"

My name is Heather Mills
I like to swallow pills.
My boyfriend is fat.
He thinks he's all that.
But his gut, it gives me chills.

"What Were We Talking About?"

If I were a bird, I'd probably fly
Pooing on someone's car may be fun.
If I were a pig, I'd probably sny
Pigs are ugly and they weigh a ton.
If I were a lawyer, I'd probably lie
Then again, I always do.
I'm dating Paul and you know why.
Wait, can't lawyers sue?
If I were a model, I'd probably quit
I've got lots of money so theres no point in it.
What were we talking about?

"Another Morning"

I wake up to greet the day
as I roll in my bed.
Then I see Paul sleeping there,
looking old, as old men do.
I gaze around the bedroom
and tip-toe out of bed.
Searching everywhere!
How I'm searching everywhere!
In the closets,
under the bed,
behind the books,
in the toolshed,
inside cabinets,
under the sink,
behind the toilet,
Boy does it stink,
beneath the mattress,
by the door,
I search and search
just a little more.
Poo. Where the hell is it?
Just before I give up
I remember one last spot.
Paulie's secret cabinet
with his hash and all that lot.
I rummage through the drugs and junk
and there it really is.
Hurray! Neato! I found it, I found it, its MINE.
Paul's wallet.

"Sometimes"

Sometimes I get hungry
Sometimes I get bored
Sometimes I write poetry
Sometimes I sit and wonder
Sometimes my nose itches
Sometimes my back hurts
Sometimes Geoff is mean
Sometimes Paul is weird
Sometimes people ask me stuff
Sometimes I never listen
Sometimes I look so good
Sometimes, maybe too good
Sometimes I'm all deep and junk
Sometimes I can be philosophical
Sometimes I hate Larry King
Sometimes.

"Who Could This Be About?"

There once was a beautiful woman.
Not to be confused as a b*tch.
She got famous over night.
Because her boyfriend is rich.
She likes to collect pet rocks
And thinks land minds are mean.
She has the most beautiful eyes
The prettiest you've ever seen.
She likes to buy lots of junk
and she never has to pay.
Her perspectives are quiet bold:
"I think war is gay."
Her hair is definitely blonde
From here to Talleto.
She walks like a princess
and thinks hair is neato.
Yeah, the goddess is me.
What did you expect?
All I want is lots of money.
Screw love and respect.

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*Shopping Days*

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I've ventured forth and written a parody to the popular '70s hit "Summer Nights" (off the sound-track of 'Grease'). I'm sure you have all heard the song, probably more than you've really wanted to. But it only adds to the delight of this notorious song so enjoy my new, revised version. It is called, "Shopping Days" and its a duet for Paul and Lady Heather. You can picture the rest on your own time. Enjoy...
 
Shopping Days
(Mccartney/Pegmeister)
Heather: Shopping days, had me a blast. Paul: I met a girl with a fine ass.
Heather: I saw an old dude in the store. Paul: I could tell she was my kinda whore.
Though when he pulled out his credit card, I could feel the chemistry start to flow.

Well-uh-hella-hella-uh!
Oprah: Tell me more, tell me more: was he good in the sack?
Geoff: Tell me more, tell me more: Did she have a nice rack?
Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
Heather: When I woke up, I found his cocaine. Paul: She was nosey so I hid my Rogaine.
Heather: Then I knew he must be totally rich. Paul: I sort of feared she was some kind of b*tch.
But she could LEG like no other Peg so I decided to give her a go.
Well-uh-hella-hella-uh!
Oprah: Tell me more, tell me more, was he rather obscene?
Geoff: Tell me more, tell me more: Are we out of morphine?
Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
Heather: We started shopping ever-ry day. Paul: I bought her earrings, so she would stay.
Heather: And I think land mines are totally gay! Paul: So I proposed to her later that day.
Heather: He gave to me this giant ring thingy and I knew it must be true love.
Well-uh-hella-hella-uh!
Larry King: Tell me more, tell me more: Was it love at first sight?
Oprah: Tell me more, tell me more: Did he put up a fight?
Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.

Paul: Before we knew it, the papers all knew. Heather: I trailed along on his interviews.
Paul: She was so cheerful to be close to me. Heather: Yeah whatever, I was on TV!
Paul: I told the guys so it'de be publicisized, and I'd be living in the spotlight again.
Well-uh-hella-hella-uh!
Conan: Tell me more, tell me more: How did your last album sell?
Fans: Tell us more, tell us more: she can go straight to hell!
<pause>

<slower> Paul: Now I'm famous like I used to be. Heather: I've made a come-back. Tee-ee-ee-hee-ee.
Paul: I've found a lover who will always be there. Heather: I wonder what I should go out and wear?
Heather: But I can see exactly where I want to be, but oh - those Shopping Days.
Tell me more, tell me more.

Heather Philosophy:

Like OH MY G, y'all! I totally had like one of those spiritual awakening thingies. I was lying in bed and I began to think about stuff and I was all enlightened and junk. It was so neato. I came to several realizations in my period of enlightment. We are all one...with money. And money is all one with us. Isn't that DEEP? Its so deep, I could drown. Hee hee! Okay, but back to our philisophical discussion...I also realised that I am a beautiful person...and I am way too good for Paul. That doesn't mean I'm going to dump him anytime soon (we have to get married first. Duh! Or else I won't get to make a settlement...my lawyer person told me so). So I'm gonna stay with my really rich boyfriend but I just realized that I'm prettier than him. And these kind of things are important in a relationship. We both need to come to terms that I'm cuter...or else our relationship is doomed! And that would be SO a waste of my time (and a waste of all that sex!). Next, I totally had a vision, y'all! I could see John, that dead dude Paul is always talking about. And John said to me, "He's not what he says he is." And I was all like, "Dude, what are you talking about?" And John said, "He's not really 42." Then John disappeared. Whoa! Talk about a spritual awakening! A dead guy told me the future. Anywho, I didn't believe him cuz if Paul were older than 42, someone would have mentioned it by now (excluding his snotty @ss kids who are always on my back anyway). So I went to the most factual and reliable place I knew to turn. The Internet. I went to that "Ask Jeeves" thingie and here is what I typed in word-for-word: "Okay Jeeves dude, the TV says your like this genious and you know everything. Heres my question: is my really rich boyfriend Paul McCartney older than 42 years old? Cuz if he is, we are SO having a talk!" I clicked "Ask" and instead of answering the d@mn question, Jeeves pulled a fast one on me and listed all these web-sites. Yeah, some help there, Jeeves! I guess I'll never know: after all, if Jeeves doesn't know, who does?

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