Tag Archives: Marriage

Guest Poem from Al Bundy

If marriage were like football

There would be no single men.

Every year they’d scout for wives

And draft a girl or ten

Then sign them to a contract

For a couple wondrous years

And give them shirts with numbers

And use them to sell beers.

We’d all have favorite teams of wives

Like the Ashleys or the Sophies

Who live in different cities

And try to win us trophies,

And when the best turn 40

(Or sometimes just 34)

We’d trade them off to other teams

And draft a dozen more.

If marriage were like football

Maybe life would be ok,

But instead it seems to be more like


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Oregon Love (Or Why you Shouldn’t Settle For The First Pretty Face)

Her eyes were blue as Crater Lake,

Her breasts were like Mount Hood.

Her hair fell like Multnomah Falls

And all these things were good.

I held her hand and felt as big

And strong as Haystack Rock

Until my wife came home that night

And smacked me with her cock.

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Princess Fatigue

Ask any man “Would you marry?”

And the man will most-likely say “Sure.”

He’d wear a gold ring for the rest of his days

To announce his commitment to her.

Ask any girl “Would you marry?”

And she’ll smile and say “Yes” with glee.

“And he’d wear a gold ring for the rest of his days

“To announce his commitment to me!”

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As the lovers grew older

Much to the wife’s delight

Her husband looked much like Sean Connery.

The husband didn’t say it

(For he didn’t want a fight)

But he couldn’t help but think it: So did she.

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[Insert Fish Pun Here]

Give a man a fish,

You’ll feed him for a day

Unless that man’s a vegan

In which case his death’s okay.

But teach a man to fish

(Be him Vegan or otherwise)

And if he gets married he’ll be grateful

And he’ll think you very wise.

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But He Pronounced It Like “Hwipped”

Cream’s wife asked him

To go to the store.

Cream’s wife’s husband obeyed

Without asking what for.

Cream’s wife’s husband’s friend

Saw how the scales tipped

And he said to cream

“My God man, you’re whipped!”

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Me, In 18-Years

I ain’t no spring chicken

But neither am I old.

I’m a 40-year-old husband

Who writes exactly what I’m told.

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Devil’s Advocate, Nuptial Parity Edition

A first drink or a first date

Can be first love or likewise hate.

A first kiss or first fight

Are blackness deep and endless light.

A first dance as man and wife

Will give you joy for all your life

Unless man/man or woman/woman you’re.

Then you’ll complain about this poem for sure.

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There are two sides

To every tale.

One person might think

They saw a whale,

While others agree

The first guy lied

And it was just

Someone’s backside.

What’s fire to one

Is ice to the next,

Some like to call

And others text,

But one answer

Will never fail:

If your wife asks “how’s this dress”

Do not say “hey look, a whale!”

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It’s The Small Details

When I drink my morning coffee

I think about my wife,

And how the two of them together

Give me such a perfect life.

And when I drink my evening coffee

And I lie awake at night

I know neither one has chest hair,

And that makes me feel all right.

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