Ode To Cruella De Ville

When my ex boss, Cruella de Ville (aka the Breast Milk Chick), turned fifty I wrote her a poem. If I wasn't such a pussy I would have actually given it to her too. She was a sorry, sour-faced little shrew.

FIFTY MY ASS

Wow, fifty
How nifty
But how thrifty
Except when shopping for oneself

Fifty today
Hip hip hooray
You don’t look a DAY
Over sixty

Boy you’re saggy
Your eyes are baggy
I don’t mean to braggy
But we’re all younger than you

Will you party tonight?
What a fabulous sight
Be careful you might
Put your hip out or something

You’re no spring chicken anymore
You might end up very sore
My God, look at your pores
Get the botox out now

So you’re creative billing
And your skin you are filling
With poison – how chilling
And you still look like a pig

So hope your birthday is fun
You might not have another one
You’ll soon be as old as the sun
But you’ll never be as hot.