Tag Archives: Postaday

She’s Also My Muse (And The Reason This Blog Exists)

My Mom’s the bomb!

Her name’s not Tom.

She deserves much great aplomb.

She’s older than a CD-Rom.

This poem’s bad, unlike my Mom.

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Let Life End As It Began

I want to die of an orgasm.

It’s a death that would leave me content

And the folks at my wake

Would say “for goodness’ sake

“That poet, he came and he went.”

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58008 is the new 90210

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.

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It’s 11:48 And I’m A Horrible Person

Today I cut onions

And everyone cried.

Onions was a good dog;

It’s a shame that he died.

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Other Viable Weapons Include Chihuahuas, Telemarketers, And The Music Of Taylor Swift

Are you unhappy?

Perhaps you’re depressed?

You want to shoot up a school

Because you’re so stressed?

Don’t grab your assault gun

And make hunters sad.

Instead, grab some kale

And do something bad.

If a few more folk heroes

With defective prozac

Go out with a bang

Via kale attack

The liberals will ban it

And the world will shout “yay!”

To leave your legacy

That’s the very best way.

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Prudent Advice Too Often Overlooked By Those Committing Revisionist-History Infanticide

If you went back in time

To kill Hitler as a baby

You probably should consider

That someone else just maybe

Might go back in time again

This time to kill you

‘Cause you’re a time-traveling baby killer

As far as they knew.

That’s why if you ever

Change history somehow

By traveling to the past

To influence the now

I think it’s important

To leave a detailed letter

Explaining how killing babies

Can make the world better.

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The Circle Of Life

Beneath the cloudless golden sky of Summer,

Atop the countless rainbow leaves of Fall,

In the stinging hail and drifting snow of Winter,

I lived happily ever after after all.

And in the rains and flowery winds of Springtime

When life, besieged by Winter comes to mend,

I find a big ass spider in my shower

And the fairy tale (and spider’s life) must end.

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