More men than women study math,
Professionally at least.
This is true from North to South
And also West to East.
It’s not because women are dumb
Or men like math by fate…
It’s that all boys love what happens
When you invert 7,251×8.
Filed under Poems
I don’t know if it’s tiny skirts,
Amble chests, or giant eyes
Wherein the popular appeal
Of the anime female lies.
What part of perfect, flowing hair
And cheerful attitudes
Holds such mysterious appeal
To socially awkward dudes?
Filed under Poems
In December I sat on a frozen lake
And fished for rainbow trout.
The next two months I did the same
‘Cause that’s what I’m about.
This Summer I’m vacationing
Somewhere in the Maldives.
I know there’s no ice-fishing there
But I can avoid my 28 wives.
Filed under Poems
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!”
1. And the Lord said: Thou shalt shower
2. And when thou have finished with the shower thou shall dry your face and balls
3. And shall dry thine face first, but sometimes have to dry it again after the balls
4. But fear not, for the Towel has a short memory
5. And where once thine genitals were dried, the spot shall be made clean
6. And the next morning the towel shall be refreshed, as if untouched the day prior.
7. And shouldst thou be aroused at any time
8. Thou shall hang the towel upon the “ready servant” and rejoice in your manliness
8. But thou shall not speak of this ritual to women,
9. ‘Cause bro, why wouldst thou?
The word of the Lord
Filed under Poems
The day that Venus touched my hand
The night was dark upon the land;
The wind was very chill and grim
And the streetlights’ respites scarce and slim.
As her fingers met with mine
I longed for them to intertwine.
I held on tight as she let go.
How chill and grim the wind did blow!
I asked her why she ran away
But, no longer present, she’d naught to say.
And as I stood there all alone
I realized she stole my phone.
Venus, it seems, knew the pickpocket’s art
But knew not that she stole my heart.
So I launched “Find my iPhone”
And followed with a heart of stone
The steps to find my mobile and
The Venus who had touched my hand.
Down I followed many miles
Towards the thief and all her wiles,
Past the park and through the woods
And into shady neighborhoods
Until upon the spot came I
Where Apple said “Your phone’s nearby,”
And there I saw her, Queen of Love,
My iPhone held with woolen glove.
Her fingers danced light as can be
As she stole my identity.
I called out “Venus, I am Joe!”
She shrugged as if to say “I know.”
Then she shot me in the face
With majestic and transcendent grace.
As I descended to the dead
Her visage filled what was left of my head.
And on that dark and stormy night
When Venus’s left hand touched my right…
That hand which held the fated gun
Which well-ensured my life was done…
And whence the chill, grim wind had blown
I learned the downside of testosterone.
Filed under Poems
