Tag Archives: Postaday

Lucky for Me… I’m a 3!

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.

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The Case Against Hell

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.

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But Hockey? There’s A Great Sport!

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.

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Insurance Be Like…

I called Permanente Kaiser

‘Cause I had pain in my incisor.

What they said seemed rather ruthless:

“Pay up or you’ll soon be toothless.”

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If Only His Parents Named Him Neil…

Greg is 17-foot-3,

Runs faster than the eye can see,

And more impressive than Greg’s size is

How Greg’s won four Nobel Prizes.

Greg is just 18 years old.

All Greg touches turns to gold.

Greg’s backstory’s very tragical

Which makes Greg seem even more magical.

Greg declared the other day

Greg wants to play in the NBA.

The coaches laughed ’til they soiled their pants…

Greg once said, “Cops are fine,” so Greg never stood a chance.

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Why Teachers Don’t Get Paid Enough

I didn’t like to talk

So I said, “I hate speech.”

Mr. King was sad

Because it’s his job to teach.

He said, “That is incorrect.

“You should say, ‘I use hate speech.'”

I quoted him out of context

And now he’s homeless on the beach.

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Hospital Memos

Vegetable soup will

No longer be served in the

Quadriplegic’s ward.

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Think About The Bulimic Market Though!

First they made potatoes,

Then they made potato chips

Which were the same but thinner

And were prone to chap one’s lips.

Then they thought, “What if we

“Made these taste like spoiled fruit?”

Thus born was “Salt and Vinegar,”

And thus rose the chip’s repute.

“That went well,” the people said

And so they made new flavors

Like “Sour Cream and Onion”

And “Tasteless” (For the savers).

They made the chips organic,

They made them hot and cold,

They covered them in who-knows-what,

And still, somehow, they sold,

But you now dare to tell me

That my product is a waste?

Who wouldn’t want to purchase chips

Called “Orange Juice and Toothpaste?”

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Also, Life Is Better With Endless 8-Bit Russian Folk Music

In life, as in Tetris

Failure is guaranteed.

The longer you’ve been playing

The higher is your speed.

You choose where to place the blocks

That you’ve no strength to bend.

Your only goal’s to stay alive

Until the very end.

To play the lowest levels

Is a way to work off stress

But you’ll find when all is over

The rewards are much, much less.

You’ll win by staying focused;

You’ll lose if you get shot.

If you choose to try again

It may get worse… or not.

When you’re done the lowest scores

Are gone without a trace,

But for the few who managed to

Put everything in place

You’ll enter your initials

To claim your high score’s stake

And if you do not enter “ASS”

You’ve made a huge mistake.

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Deep below, the hipster slugs

Are killing worms and taking drugs

And handing out free slimy hugs

And chanting “Slug Lives Matter.”

High above, against the odds,

Someone applauds the gastropods

And, thinking they are modern gods,

Eat escargot and grow fatter.

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