I found a fun video game
That simulates many ways to die.
The designers overlooked the simple fact
That survival means I’d have to try.
Tag Archives: Silly
How To Be Popular
If I had breath like Godzilla
And my sneeze were a nuclear blast
I still wouldn’t like playing kickball
But at least I’d get picked before last.
Filed under Poems
An Old-School Love Poem For The Woman Who Inspired My “Art”
Good morning Mom!
You are the bomb.
You made me exist
Before the CD Rom.
Today we shower you
With abundant aplomb.
You are the WWW
To my .com
You make delicious food
That I like to nom
And you are someone onto whom
I do like to glom.
I promise I’ll never leave you
To move away to Guam
Because I’m your favorite child
And you’re my best Mom.
Filed under Poems
She Played Another Game With Me…
Her epic trapper spidey
Killed my supersonic bat-dragon.
Apparently the divorce is off
And we’re back to love and naggin’!
Filed under Poems
Moral Ambiguity In The Marvel Culinary Universe
Honorable dessert, cake of courage,
Your frosting is noble, your filling is strong.
Honorable dessert, please answer me this:
Is wanting to eat you so wrong?
Filed under Poems
After A While, You Take What Puns You Can Get
There once was a plant from Japan
That had varicose veins and went snap. An
Evening I glanced it
And it unzipped my pants. It
Turns out it was a veinous fly trap.
Filed under Poems
Leading Tomorrow’s Youth
Instead of “Ladies and Gentlemen”
I said “Hello Heathens Galore”.
Now everybody knows my name
And I don’t get to teach preschool no more.
Filed under Poems
No Butts About It
Imagine a world where nobody
Has a butt of any kind:
Nobody would ever poop again
And nobody’d ask “But why?”
Pants wouldn’t be near as popular
And gym girls would work on their pecs
And some guys would probably fantasize
About lasses with the jiggliest necks.
No one would horde toilet paper
And fart jokes just wouldn’t exist
And I could go on, but I think my point
Has been made just with this little list.
Filed under Poems
Did OSHA Overlook This?
I always wonder how it feels
To work in an apple orchard.
Is picking fruit for people’s meals
Akin to being tortured?
It can’t be that bad, you say
But what happens if you break a leg?
Those apples all day keep the doctors away
No matter how much you beg!
Filed under Poems
Hue’d Never Guess…
Apparently, the color “peacoat”
Is sort of grayish-blackular
I would have thought it greenish
Given “pea” is in its vernacular,
Or perhaps a pale yellow
Would fit Peacoat’s pigmentation?
Alas, the color picker people
Lack an eight-year-old’s imagination!
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 