Her eyes were blue as Crater Lake,
Her breasts were like Mount Hood.
Her hair fell like Multnomah Falls
And all these things were good.
I held her hand and felt as big
And strong as Haystack Rock
Until my wife came home that night
And smacked me with her cock.
Filed under Poems
I saw a guy driving today
Who had a sign in their back window:
“Please stay back,
“New stick shift driver.”
I’m putting that in the back window
Of every car I buy
From this day forward.
Filed under Poems
As a kid I brushed my teeth
And dreamt of hockey fame.
I knew I’d be the greatest guy
To ever play the game.
I’d pass and score and block and fight
And win for many reasons
And earn a dozen Stanley Cups
And play for forty seasons!
So, four years old, I tied my skates
And pulled on my first sweater
And grabbed a stick and shin guards
Determined to get better.
I played left wing ’til high school
Then swapped to play the right.
I shot and passed and blocked a lot
And even had a fight!
I went to play in the NHL
And was drafted thirty-second.
The success that I’d achieved
Was better than I reckoned.
For sixteen years I scored the goals
And dropped the gloves and won.
I never got a Stanley Cup
But I had lots of fun!
And now I sleep, a different man,
Amidst the moonlit hush
Without the need for childish dreams
And without teeth to brush.
Filed under Poems
English is funny; Take the word “ship”
Which can mean a variety of things…
It can mean a big boat
That can carry other boats
Or other miscellaneous bling.
Therefore a ship who ships cargo
(Oh yeah, ship is also a verb)
Can ship ships as its cargo
(Or so is said as a ship-shipping blurb).
“Ship” can also be used
To describe imaginary romance
Where two hypothetical characters
Want to get in one-another’s pants.
In this sense, the word shipping
Is creating the romantic “ship,”
But could also mean that you think
The prospect of shipping is hip.
So if you like to like the idea
Of a romantic relationship between
A cargo delivery vehicle who delivers ships
Falling in love with a similar machine
You ship shipping ship-shipping ships shipping ship-shipping ships,
And that is grammatically correct.
Yes indeed, English is funny
But deserves at least grudging respect.
Filed under Poems
If you feel empty inside
Just take away the “E”
And you can feel mpty instead.
Or, alternatively
Take away the “Y”
And feel emp-t (and misled).
If you take away
The “E,” “P,” and “Y”
You feel mt, and that’s fine.
But if you say nothing
Your words won’t be empty
And we won’t have to hear you whine.
Filed under Poems
A train is coming down a track
On which doth a maiden lie.
If I took no action
It was certain that she’d die
But if I threw a lever
The train would change its track
And Taylor Swift would never die.
Now on maiden crows do snack.
Filed under Poems
I’m grateful for people
Who do not expect
Good poems on holidays
And, to me, genuflect.
Filed under Poems
‘Twas the day before Thanksgiving
And all of the Bauers
Were being ungrateful
For 24 hours
For tomorrow they knew
They must put on a smile
And pretend to be happy,
At least for a while.
Then out of the sun
Did a meteor fall
And struck down the Bauers
And flattened them all.
On Thanksgiving that followed
This disaster from God
Everyone else was happy,
Which no one found odd…
Filed under Poems
If a man makes 40k
And his girl makes 10
She’ll happily be his Barbie
And he will be her Ken.
If a man makes 40k
And his girl makes 20
She will call him Sugarplum
And he will call her Honey.
If a man makes 40k
And his girl makes thirty
You can guarantee that they’ll
Be eager to talk dirty.
If a man makes 40k
And she makes 41
Shame on her for dating down!
Their relationship is done.
Filed under Poems
Some monastic people say that if you can forgo enough
That you can lose the urge to call some other people “bro” and stuff.
To do this is a sort of psychologicalish double-bluff
That, if applied correctly, leaves you feeling rather strong and tough.
On the other hand our non-monastic colleagues like to say
Pursuing earthly pleasures is, to happiness, a surer way
And that forgoing stuff is very (insert synonym for gay)
And that, through your indulgences, you’re guaranteed to feel okay.
I am of a middle-ground, a kind of tertiary school
For those who think that happiness comes not from being tough or cool
But that the key unlocking all the treasures of this happy stuff
Is “Everything is perfect if you keep your standards low enough.”
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 