Sometimes you go to the bathroom
To just get away from it all
Or sometimes you make a poop
That’s the color of Darth Maul.
They both take about the same time
To finish, which is alright.
I did one while writing this poem
So you’re welcome. Now good night.
Filed under Poems
When I was in Kindergarten
We all sang a song
That was very fun
But not very long
That went “Hannah Hannah Bo Banna
“Banana fana fo fana
Me my mo mannah
Hannah.”
We sang it over and over
Until whenever the time came
That everyone but me had been called
But they never did my name…
Filed under Poems
If you say “I pike pandas” everyone smiles
If you say “I don’t like koalas” that’s fine
Say what you want about grizzlies and polars
But you mention the blacks and they lose their minds…
Filed under Poems
There once was a city in France
That was known for its light and romance.
Then the mideast said “Holla”
And immigrated with Allah
And we know now who’s wearing the pants.
Filed under Poems
Dear readers, it gives me great Pride(tm) that my blog, a long-time proponent of mediocrity in all forms, has chosen to partner with America’s favorite soft drink:
PIDD!
PIDD! (or Performance Inhibiting Drug Drink) has been taking the world by storm (consensually, of course). Inspired by brands like Disney, Bud Light, and OceanGate, PIDD! is sinking its teeth into all the things that once made you happy like:
The NBA (Nubile Boys of America)
MMA (Male Maidens Association)
UPS (Un-Penissing Service)
UN (United Nations)
And many more!
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So just like Luke Skywalker, Indiana Jones, James Bond, and the other heroes of your childhood, crack open a can of PIDD! (or pour a lukewarm glass of inner-city tap water) and let’s toast a future where men don’t have to stay that way.
Bumblebee, bumblebee, why do you fly
When life would be better
If you would just die?
Human, human, why do you hate
When you eat the plants
That we bees pollenate?
Bumblebee, bumblebee, sure you’re ok
In a creepy bumbley
Bug sort of way.
Human, human, we’re both Earth’s daughter
Wait, why do your hands
Hold aloft that fly swatter?
Filed under Poems
If I had a sweet purple pony
For every terrible poem I’ve written for you
I’d have no shortage of mystery meat
And the world would have no want for glue
Filed under Poems
Sweet little kiwi
I cut thin green slices of
Then they fly away
Filed under Poems
We’ve finally reached the fated day
Where your date presents a resume
And you have to ask her in detail
About the gap in her experience as a female
Filed under Poems
Sometimes I think I have a lot
Upon my figurative plate
Because I have so little time
And go to sleep too late
And then I see somebody
Working nineteen hours for minimal pay
And I go home just thinking
“What flavor pizza should I get today?”
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 