Little ball of plastic
I hit into a hole:
It takes me many tries
To once achieve my goal.
I then repeat the process
Seventeen more times.
This sport is very stupid
But hey, the poem rhymes!
Little ball of plastic
I hit into a hole:
It takes me many tries
To once achieve my goal.
I then repeat the process
Seventeen more times.
This sport is very stupid
But hey, the poem rhymes!
Filed under Poems
If you are called at host’s behest
To play the role of honored guest
And feel perhaps a little stressed
Then heed this wisdom I think best:
First, if you need not prevent
Your presence at the said event
Then notice how your time is spent
And be amazed how fast it went,
But if instead you wish to flee
You’re wise indeed to contact me
For ’tis amazing what you’ll see
If you, for just a moment, pee.
If urination’s not your style
Another way to leave a while
Is to enter, wave, and smile
And call out as a greeting, “Heil!”
If these two tips do not work out
Don’t underestimate a pout,
For dourness beyond a doubt
Is a fair way to thumb one’s snout.
Urine, Nazi, or be sullen:
All are safe ways to be cullen,
So brand yourself ein angsty creep
And thou shall glow from longer sleep!
Filed under Poems
Once upon a time
A guy tried something new
For no reason besides
To see what stuff would do.
Afterwards he used
What he found as an appliance
And thus was born the toaster
And, with it, modern science.
Sam was 28 years old,
Had never seen the sun,
Had never eaten chocolate,
Never had any fun,
Had never hugged a puppy
And got stung by a bee
And he’s telling the cashier about it
Right in front of me…
Filed under Poems
This is the point in history
Where things aren’t going well,
But you aren’t very worried yet
Because you know a spell
That opens up a menu
Where you reload your latest save
And go back to start on easy mode
Instead of to your grave.
Filed under Poems
If I had a potato chip
For every theory that made sense
I’d have a much larger stomach
And not a lot of evidence…
Filed under Poems
He’s got a triple-axle
Turbo-powered 4×4
With a 12-liter v-20
And a carbon-fiber door.
It goes zero-to-sixty
In 1.72
And has a TV in the hood,
But me… My car is blue!
Filed under Poems
She was meretricious
And he was five-foot-two
And yet somehow between them
Amorous feelings grew.
He thought she was a goddess
And she thought he was funny.
So go the lives of 4’s and 5’s
When they have boobs or money.
Filed under Poems
Were there an inventor,
Perhaps of a car,
And it found its vehicle flawed
I’d think that the fault
Was not with the car
But with it’s creator, Car God.
And if Car God said,
“You dumb stupid lemon,
“Made flawed because I wasn’t clever,
“Instead of repairing,
“Refining, retrying,
I think I’ll just burn you forever…”
If that were the case,
I’d want a new God
For fear that I might somehow fail.
But our God is better:
Our God is forgiving
For he made, but has not burned, kale.
Filed under Poems
Soccer’s like “The Notebook:”
I’ve never watched for more than a minute,
I consider it nap-time
And don’t like anyone in it.
Soccer and I
Are also much alike
In that no one ever scores
And the entertainment it creates has unsatisfying conclusions.
Filed under Poems