Pizza’s pretty yummy
And hot dogs taste real nice
But I can do without the carbs
And even sans the spice.
Instead of all that bready stuff
What I really want to eat
Is meat covered in melted cheese
Then covered in even more meat!
Pizza’s pretty yummy
And hot dogs taste real nice
But I can do without the carbs
And even sans the spice.
Instead of all that bready stuff
What I really want to eat
Is meat covered in melted cheese
Then covered in even more meat!
Filed under Poems
People are always joking
About how it weirds them out
That someone grabbed a cow’s udder
And drank what came out.
But I’m wondering who
Ground some wheat with a stone
Mixed it with milk and bacteria
Then left it alone
Before heating it up
To 300 degrees
And then frying it up
With some butter and cheese…
Filed under Poems
They make elbow pasta,
Bow ties and angel hair,
But I think they should make a noodle
For guys who have a pair:
A noodle like the balls that hang
Behind your pickup truck…
(It was at this point my girlfriend said
I’m already in luck).
Filed under Poems
They have hot dogs; they have buns.
They have lunch meat; they have pancakes.
The equivalence I want to know:
What sort of meat a pair with waffles makes.
Filed under Poems
It’s morning at the vineyard
And the weather’s looking fine!
We sing hurrah and pick syrah
By bunches off the vine.
There’s Malbec for our jelly
And cabernet for wine,
Filling bucket after bucket
With pickers numbering nine.
My girl may have partaken
Of a bottle from last year.
The leaves stay green and limber
Though its fruit will disappear.
With truck beds full and spirits high
We loose a mirthful cheer!
Now we’re on the highway home
With the pickers we hold dear.
Tomorrow we’ll de-stem the lot
And barrel it to wait
Until next year’s excursion
Or ‘til 2028.
It’s a family tradition
So we all participate,
Bottling mornings in the vineyard,
Packing memories by the crate.
Filed under Poems
For every sandwich ever made,
For every stand with lemonade,
For every pizza baked at home
In Tuscaloosa or in Rome,
For all the cream we ever whipped,
All the coffee ever sipped,
I dedicate this meal for you:
Gummy worm salad and “mystery” stew.
Filed under Poems
Somebody once grabbed a cow by the teats
And sucked out the milk and called it good eats
But a little fermented and got full of germs
And people just couldn’t come to grips or terms
So they filled it with sugar and put fruit on the bottom
And sold it in little plastic cups, and folks bought ‘em.
Then someone froze it and, eyes all agleam,
Said “People should buy this instead of ice cream!”
Most of the world disagreed, but alas
White peoplee adored it and paid through the ass.
All over the country we now eat frozen yogurt
Like Iowans mow lawns, and Nevadans mow dirt.
Filed under Poems
Jared was a little dude
From Syracuse, New York
Who used to think his favorite meat
Was barbecue pulled pork.
Then he came upon a crowd
Of masturbating cattle
And now he says Beef strokin’ off
Has won the “best meat” battle.
Filed under Poems
“Anybody want some peas?”
Everyone said yes.
“Anyone want pewps?”
Perhaps next year, I guess…
Filed under Poems
Once upon a time
In a land of myth and ballad
Someone mixed a lot of plants
And called the result a salad.
Later, in Minnesota
Someone mixed mayonnaise
With literally anything at all
And said “Salad happens in many ways.”
Filed under Poems