You ever have
Those lazy days
Where you do nothing
In all sorts of ways?
You listen to comedy,
Read some books,
Watch youtube clips
Of stupid crooks,
Eat canned meat
And drink whole milk
And critique the jazz
Of Acker Bilk?
‘Til 5:00 PM
You stay in bed?
Me neither. What an imagination
In my head. 🙂
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If life were like a video game
I think it quickly would get lame
‘Cause everyone would act the same
And people would compete for fame
And money and stuff you’d seek to claim
And maybe you’d love a token dame.
Your repeated failures might cause shame
And you’d be worthy of others’s blame.
You’ll find comfort in a pet to tame
And maybe give it a funny name
Like Blooper, Tweazle, Grumps, or Zame…
Holy crap! Life’s just like a video game!
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From Bill:
Chickens are oviparous,
I’m sure you realize.
They generously produce for us,
Eggs of every size.
These eggs do nourish some of us,
and for that we are thankful.
(Others they make malodorous,
but we do forgive your stank, Phil.)
Chickens have earned their place in heaven,
don’t you realize?
With a little flour and leaven,
you get “Chicken Surprise!”
Thanks Bill!
Want your bad poetry featured on the blog for the world to silently mock? Get the details here!
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If you like lettuce
And cabbage and kale
And you want to be green
And maybe save a whale
I wish you a life
That is long, joyful, happy
While I go to Hell
With people who aren’t so sappy.
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I looked at all the people
Seated in their chairs.
I told them “I won’t paint the steps”
But I only got blank stares.
They keep making King Kong movies
And they keep casting giant apes
To play the King in question.
That seems like sour grapes!
Why not cast a human
Or a donkey or a skunk?
Why must Kong be royalty
Instead of just a common punk?
Why must the ape be male
And violent and dark-furred?
Has diversity to the producers’
Shallow minds ever have occurred?
I think the next King Kong film
Should be about a lady bird.
If you don’t agree you’re evil
And we need to have a word.
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Today I socialized again.
It’s becoming a bad habit…
Anyway, my friend and reader said
My opinion towards chickens is “stab it.”
I’ve written about chickens for dinner
And, yesterday, going to Hell.
All in all my poems about chickens
Do not treat them very well.
I wanted to amend my cruelty
Towards our egg-laying kin
And so I announce a contest
That upon this fine day shall begin!
Now a good contest must have a theme
And should recur on an oft-scheduled basis
And feature many a viewpoint
And not force the victor into cryogenic stasis.
My contest achieves all of these goals
And here’s what the contest is called:
The Semi-Bicentennial “Chickens Are Good”
Bad Poetry Contest That Will Not Make You Bald (Probably).
I’m seeking submissions from readers,
From other poets, artists, and guests
On the topic of the glories of chickens
And of a quality that won’t get an A on tests.
So comment your dubious poetry
About the glory of hens and of cocks.
Just comment them on this announcement
And just make sure that none of them rocks.
I look forward to reading your poems
And the chickens most likely do not
Because they’re illiterate morons.
(Now’s your chance to prove that they’re not)!
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“Chickens don’t believe in God
“So chickens go to Hell.”
That’s what Grandma told me
And so far it’s served me well.
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The Daily Travesty 
Passing The Bar?
The taps are flowing,
The music blares!
The mistakes pile up
But nobody cares.
New stories are heard
And new memories leave.
Every girl at the bar
Hears “sup girl? I’m Steve.”
Inhibitions
Are out the door.
There’s one good answer
When they ask “one more?”
Bodies shimmy
And booties shake!
Isn’t it joyful
At rationality’s wake?
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Tagged as Bad Decisions, Drinking, Humor, Poetry, Postaday, Social Commentary, Socializing