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
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
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
‘Twas the day after Easter
And the kids were off school
Eating copious sugar
And emitting much drool
When a rabbit emerged
And said “Sorry I’m late!”
Then he hid eggs all over
And hopped over the gate.
The children tried chasing,
But bunnies are fast…
Then it dawned on a child
Who whispered at last
“If the bunny came here
“Today, who was that
“Who brought candy yesterday?”
Thus smiled the Easter Rat.
Filed under Poems
Life’s like an Oreo cookie:
The start and the end are both crappy
But the more stuff you put in the middle
The more likely you are to be happy!
Filed under Poems
“Short people might not play basketball
But that doesn’t mean that they cannot.“
That was the reasoning cited
For making the Kool-Aid man an astronaut.
Filed under Poems
I eye an eye of the aiai,
Upon the visage of the ape
And as I eye the aiai, I sigh
For I’m shocked, yet it’s not yet agape.
Filed under Poems
There once were two boys from Descartes
Who possessed pure and beautiful hearts
Until one rainy day
In a childish way
They learned how to bottle their farts…
Filed under Poems
Sometimes all it takes
To make somebody’s day
Is to flash a cheerful smile
And whisper “Hip hip hooray!”
I tried it out this afternoon
And the data that I got was this:
Prison is not a good place to test
A cheerfulness hypothesis.
Filed under Poems
Perhaps if people possessing purple percherons
Prepared their persons patiently
Purple percherons put in purses
Would prudently pursue purer pursuits?
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 