Tag Archives: Humor

Quidditch

I met a girl

I thought was nice.

Turns out she was a witch.

She said that I

Was quite a catch.

‘Tis the life of a golden snitch.

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The Quest For Common Sense (And A Wonderful Resource For Those Who Fail It)

I tell this tale and sing this song;

‘Tis neither short nor over long.

It is the tale of whom I met

When towards the darkness off I set.

I ventured to a fright’ning spot,

All at one both cold and hot,

And in its center stood the tree

Of personal responsibility.

And beneath that mighty central birch

I met a figure on its perch,

A lovely human, clean and bright

Yet I stood only half its height.

It spoke to me with radiant voice:

“To you I grant this single choice:

“To leave my grove, still safe and dense

“Or to eat the fruit of common sense.”

I looked again at the dreadful tree

From which grew apples, light and free

And with the hymns of wisdom fair

Filled joyfully the grove’s clean air.

And then I looked beyond the wood

To whence I came. Alas, still stood

Where man and beast were much the same,

Obsessed with power, sex, and fame.

To the glorious figure I did ask

What treachery hid within my task,

What fear and pain accompanied

The fruit of logic and its seed.

“No pain at all,” the figure said

Extending apples, smooth and red.

I knew not what was wrong nor right

But I grabbed the fruit and took a bite.

No longer was the forest bleak.

I couldn’t hide. I needn’t speak.

Where once the darkness clutched my heart

I only saw the world’s true art.

Where once I begged, now I produced.

Where once I guessed, now I deduced.

Where once had stood the figure bright

Now stood a mirror to my sight.

And yet the place from which I came

Sat glumly, still the very same.

I stood in brightness, stared at black,

And knew I never would go back.

So if you wander, wondering

Why you’re not pleased with your new thing,

Why your whole life seems second best

I summon you to join my quest,

To seek out forests rank with fear,

And from them soon there will appear

The brighter, lighter, clearer you

That knows and does what’s right and true,

Who looks at worlds of smog and spite,

Yet does his best and smiles despite.

Eat the fruit and so commence

Your brand new life with common sense!

But if back home you would return,

If common sense you seek to spurn,

If you treat dumbness with aplomb

You’ll find your kin at Facebook.com

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Free Vacation Anyone?

What comes up

Must come down

Except the human propensity

To find reasons to frown.

But on the moon

The proverb’s incorrect,

So send the easily offended to the moon!

Does anyone object?

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The Last Words Spoken To Me At My Customer Service Job Before My “Involuntary Retirement Was Expedited” On Account Of “Unbecoming Physical Demonstrations”

“You know those days

Where everything’s bad,

Everything hurts,

Everyone’s mad,

Nobody’s happy,

And nothing is true?

I don’t, but you’re nodding,

So it sucks to be you!”

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The Red Shirt Tells All

I graduated first in my class

From the Juilliard theater school.

I auditioned for a sci-fi show

I thought looked pretty cool.

I showed up at the studio

At 6:15 AM

To help film the now-beloved

Sci-fi classic show for them.

I went to see the costume folks.

The gave me scarlet shirts,

And asked me “are you wearing

Something where, if you fall, it hurts?”

With my adamant denial

They sent me to the stage

Where I memorized my script

Which totalled almost half a page.

The crew was very friendly.

The set was very cheep.

They had a token black girl

And the captain was a creep.

I asked about my character.

“What is his last name?”

They said “he doesn’t have one.”

Such was my first taste of fame.

To this day I look back and smile

When I watch that episode

Where 1:17 into it

A monster roars and I explode.

It was my only great achievement,

And I cannot tell a lie

But at least my job stability

Trumped that of Firefly.

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At The Butcher

Everybody’s yelling

About Nazis, hate, and Trump

And I’m just giggling to myself

‘Cause somebody said “rump.”

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Why I Love Football

This month we will experience

The NFL’s preseason

In which millionaires hit each other

Deapite the lack of any reason,

And we the fans will cheer

To kick our team’s rival’s posterior

Because we can’t play ourselves

Since we’re genetically inferior.

We’ll sit and eat and fart a bit

And somehow manage to sweat.

At the end half of us will sob

While half say “best preseason yet!”

Then we picture our team’s victory

And order larger pants

With the logo of some other team

That actually has a chance.

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