After my boss said “You’re fired”
I bought the Harley I’d always admired
But without my car
I don’t travel too far.
I think it’s because I’m two-tired.
Tag Archives: Short
Men
There are 300 urinals present.
Just the first and last are used at all.
If one of those two isn’t open
Non-sociopaths use a stall.
Filed under Poems
Fline Then
I gave someone a gift
Of pigeons sitting on a rock.
When they asked why I told them:
“I don’t give a flying flock.”
Filed under Poems
Home Alone
I stare blankly at the wall,
Fill my mind with off-white paint,
Then picture staring at your face
And feel thankful that I ain’t.
Filed under Poems
Accidental Victories
Alex Trebek said “It’s used to indicate
“A person or object in the speaker’s sight.”
Bewildered, I asked “What is that?”
And it turns out I was right.
Filed under Poems
Especially If Her Name Is Daisy
My favorite flowers are daisies.
My favorite black president is Obama.
My favorite meal and my favorite animal
Both are the same: They’re yo’ mama.
Filed under Poems
A Pun Not Worth It’s Setup
I jumped in a pool
And grabbed a flotation device,
But that floating noodle
Turned out to be lead.
I don’t know
How it managed to fool me
But, thanks to that impasta
Now I am dead.
Filed under Poems
Also, Just Kinda Gross
They asked me to hold up
Fermented canola, you see.
I refused the order…
Sounds like supporting rapeseed culture to me.
Filed under Poems
But Both Are Equally Boring When Presented By The Intellectual Elite
I questioned the need
For vagina monologues.
Why we needed them was a mystery.
Then I realized
That the penis dialogues
Was basically just all of history.
Filed under Poems
Seven Crappy Little Poems I Wrote At 11:48 Last Night
Confederate Secrets
A lot of slaves were literate
Or so I’ve been told.
I wonder if they ever read
“Chicken Soup for the Sold?”
America’s Digital Security
Obama’s password:
PASSORD
Note: No “W”
Our Beloved President
Since I have a Lamborghini
They don’t care that my dick’s teeny.
I like… like “like-like…”
Liking, like, likes I, like, like.
You’re, like, welcome. lol
Christian Bakeries
I was going to buy a baguette
But they thought I was a faggot.
Nothing awful happened though.
They kept their bread. I kept my dough.
Technically Accurate…
If you like corn on the cob
There’s a very small chance you’re part of the mob.
Hell
If you want a drink in Hell
You’ll find you have to go
To that one drinking fountain
With the insufficient flow,
And French-kiss the rusty spigot
That’s soaking wet with drool.
Satan got the idea
From your local middle school.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 