“So I have this really crappy drum
That sounds like birds flying into a wall
And I’ve tried selling it to musicians
But no one is buying at all.”
“Have you tried sticking two drums together
And giving them a really dumb name?”
“Why, no. Do you think that will help
If they still sound incredibly lame?”
Filed under Poems
Back in 1776
The British government
Oppressed its people oh so much
That they off seceding they went.
Now 250 years later
The British somehow find
New things to ban or punish,
Now including the human mind.
In another century or so
When Mars has human dwellers
We’ll see the Union Jack flying
And many space-suitless dwellers
Because the British government
Will long since have outlawed breathing
But the beating hearts and smiles
Will leave the Martian rulers seething.
Then millions of miles away in space
The British will finally see
That the time has come to pull the plug
And finally outlaw tea.
Filed under Poems
When you have to advertise
Something that everybody buys
Perhaps it would be wise
To consider how the company lies?
Filed under Poems
Si vous comprenez
Vous avez traduisé bien
Avec le Google
Filed under Poems
We go camping and spray our bodies
With chemicals to keep mosquitoes away,
But maybe instead of repelling them, we
Should hang photos of sexy mosquitoes, ok?
Filed under Poems
I picked up a career ladder
To get ahead at work,
But wasn’t sure exactly what to do,
So I laid it on its side
Straddled o’er the chasm wide
Between the role of me and that of you.
With the ladder ‘cross the ridge
It became a sort of bridge,
But not one with stability in mind.
I walked across each rung,
Did my job, and held my tongue
And on the other side what did I find?
Well, I must be frank with you:
There was a very similar view
Of a gaping gap between the then and now
But I feel somewhat misled;
I’m no higher nor more ahead
And the ladder-maker won’t say why or how.
Filed under Poems
What if we sold folks
A place they don’t want to go
Then shamed them for it?
Filed under Poems
When I hear the word
“Instagram” I always think
“These damn kids today…”
Filed under Poems
There once was a Roman dragoon
Who got stabbed by a harpoon.
The medic said, “He
“Really needs an IV.”
The Roman said, “It’s a four, you buffoon!”
Filed under Poems
A zombie apocalypse would be bad,
But if it was just a month or two
We’d probably see society improve
For the ones who made it through.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 