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Tag Archives: Black Humor
Even More Inflation!
So an OnlyFans subscription
Is $20 bucks a week?
And might be even more expensive
For a “creator” at her peak?
Forgive me if I shudder
Because that sounds like lots and lots;
In my day the gold standard was
A penny for your thots.
Filed under Poems
Travel Blogger Problems, Kansas Style
Somewhere over the rainbow
There’s a plane
Where travelers are complaining
About chronic back pain.
Right there, over the rainbow,
I’m in hell
Wishing I’d had the foresight
To pack a liquid or gel
For with such non-solid things I
Could maybe make a boom device
And make this plane fall from the sky
And yes oh yes would that be nice…
Six months later, under the rainbow,
TSA
Brings me in for “additional screening”
And I recall this day.
Filed under Poems
5 ≠ 5
If you go forty miles per hour
In a thirty-five zone
Most people would agree
To leave well enough alone.
But if you’re going thirty
In that same thirty-five space
I have for you bad news
About the future of your face.
Filed under Poems
Extra Rigor
Played Jenga at work.
Got fired. Well, okay. The morgue
Will run without me.
Filed under Poems
When In Doubt, Honeydew Not
If you eat some fruit that’s mushy
It’ll put a fire in your tushy.
If you think that it will not…
I’m writing on the pot.
Filed under Poems
What Comic Books Taught Me
We’ve gone from two-parent families
To a lot of divided tribes
Where a single mom or dad
Gets by on pizza and vibes.
But if we go one step farther
And increase the orphan count
We should see the number of superheroes
Increase by a not-small amount.
Filed under Poems
Over Time, This Is Guaranteed To Reduce Traffic
Instead of red lights
We can just have free-for-alls
At the four-way stops.
Filed under Poems
The Lube Job
I can’t afford to pay a dominatrix.
Their fee is simply too high to abide,
So when I want to be whipped and degraded
I turn on the “check engine” light in my ride.
Filed under Poems
The Redneck Reindeer
‘Twas the night after Christmas
And all through the crick
All the rednecks were calling
Old Francis a dick
‘Cause of all of the nights
To go hunting for deer
These nights are the very worst
Parts of the year.
He must’ve been drinking.
Why else would he look
For deer in the sky
And take the shot that he took?
Now all of the kiddies
Have stockings of air
‘Cause old Francis’s shotgun
Had pellets to spare.
But the crick kids were thankful
As they took a big bite
Of smoked red-nosed venison
On post-Christmas night.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 