If I had a chicken sandwich
For every time I ever farted
My death by starvation would be queuing.
If I had a chicken sandwich
For every time I lied
You’d never hear my farts above the chewing.
If I had a chicken sandwich
For every time I ever farted
My death by starvation would be queuing.
If I had a chicken sandwich
For every time I lied
You’d never hear my farts above the chewing.
Filed under Poems
Women will talk to their friends
About what their friends would say
If they knew what someone whose not their friend
Said “Hi” instead of “Hey”.
They’ll whisper all about a person’s
Clothes or hair or walk.
Guys don’t have this problem
Because male friends don’t talk.
My girl made me a sandwich
And left a little note:
“Sandwich in the fridge. I love you!”
That was all she wrote.
That was all I needed
To get me through the day
And made every struggle, small and large,
Seem perfectly okay.
So when your boyfriend, husband,
Or another man declares
“Go make me a sandwich”
It shows you that he cares
Enough about your love to ask
For what he really needs.
If you want true love to grow
That’s how to sow the seeds.
Filed under Poems
The itsy-bitsy spider
Was sitting on the floor,
Having a rest
Beneath the cabinet door.
I came to smash him
And end his worthless life
But he crawled away to safety…
Now I have to face the wife.
Filed under Poems
Cars and sports and guns and sports
And balls and boobs and mustard:
These (plus sports) are what guys like;
Other stuff makes them flustered.
I would write another poem
About what women like too
But they just can’t even anymore
And if you don’t know, they won’t tell you.
Filed under Poems
I have a six pack
Of orange creamsicles.
I have 12 inches
Of beef jerky sticks.
I go all night
When I chew my dill pickles,
And somehow I can’t seem
To pick up the chicks…
Filed under Poems
If not for British taxes
And the redcoats being weenies
We might not have these fireworks
And Stars-and-Stripes bikinis,
So I for one am grateful
For wigs and wasted tea
‘Cause now there’s baseball, big buffets,
And other big things that start with “B”.
Filed under Poems
Textured washcloth in a pastel color,
I love how my skin you exfoliate.
You make my oily skin look so duller;
For your great glory, I extoll ye, mate!
When I am lonely and in a great need
Of very crude and masculine release
I need no manual to for to read
To help you bring me to a restful peace.
You cost so little, less than fifty cents
And you loyally last my whole life long;
Textured pastel washcloth, I ask you whence
Did you become so grand, forever strong?
You are more than just a cheap toiletry;
You, my washcloth, are the best part of me!
Filed under Poems
If I were a chess piece
I think I be a rook
Because I sit in corners
If just to read a book,
I like to walk in long straight lines
And don’t think it’s a hassle
When somebody mistakenly
Refers to me as “Castle.”
I’m not pious for bishopping,
Too smart to be a pawny thing,
I lack the boobs to be a queen
Or the balls to be a king…
So it’s either rook, or else a knight
Who’s called a horse sometimes…
Actually, I’m not hung like a rook…
I’m changing my choice. This line rhymes.
Filed under Poems
All the women who play video games
And complain about bikini armor
Never seem to complain about how
Swords and arrows never harm her,
But men are stuck with heavy armor
Instead of a chainmail thong
Because if men could wear female armor
They’d be unbelievably strong.
Filed under Poems