They put a DVD
In the Nintendo Wii.
They told me “Just Dance”
So I ripped off my pants
And now nobody’s playing with me…
Tag Archives: Silly
Degrees Of Sinfulness
I asked the preacher “Hey what if
“I steal a loaf of bread?”
The preacher answered “You’ll be judged
“In Heaven once you’re dead.”
I asked, “What if I kill somebody
“But I confess before I die?”
The preacher said “The Lord will judge
“If your intention is a lie.”
I asked, “What if I hog
“The bathroom before work?”
The preacher said, “You’ll go to Hell
You [Sinful language] jerk!”
Filed under Poems
When Life Gives You Mucus, Make Poetry
I’m still sick after 96 hours,
Plentiful pills, and hot, steamy showers.
I feel lousy, and still poems I write
So give me some pity likes! And with that, good night.
Filed under Poems
Streaming Exclusively On Disney Plus
I think it would be fun
If they made a new Jumanji movie
But it was a free-to-play mobile Jumanji
And they spent all five hours of the movie
Grinding for Jumanjewels
Before they gave up and decided
The old, murdery Jumanji
Wasn’t that bad after all…
Filed under Poems
Yeah, It’s Annoying, Isn’t It! (My Next Poem Will Be Split Into Two Posts For Length)
There once was a cinematic sequel
With a cliffhanger end like no equal.
The heroes were shocked
When the villain they mocked
Turned out to be…
Filed under Poems
Tyranny Bugs Me
There they were, two armies,
One in black and one in red
Swarming from their anthill
Knowing one must soon be dead.
One was sponsored by Les Schwab Tires,
The other by Steve’s Work Pants.
One army shouted “We will be victorious!”
The other screamed “Death to tire ants!”
Filed under Poems
Boyhood
If you never rode a bicycle
From the top of dead-man’s hill
And hit 100 miles an hour
And then took a wicked spill
And sprayed your blood all everywhere
But didn’t cry one bit
Then son, you are a wussy.
If you did, you’re full of it!
Filed under Poems
Really Strained For That Rhyme… But Seriously! I Want Meat With Little Pits For The Syrup!
They have hot dogs; they have buns.
They have lunch meat; they have pancakes.
The equivalence I want to know:
What sort of meat a pair with waffles makes.
Filed under Poems
Paper And Scissors Can’t Top This
I exercised my glutes until they were hard as rock.
I entered a hardass contest and thought I was a lock.
I flex my bum! The judges gasp! I’m certain that I’ve got ‘em!
But even though my butt won first, I’d really hit rock bottom.
Filed under Poems
Art Is Subjective
People always say
“I miss the good old days”
But I think that’s misguided
In many different ways,
Chief of which is that
Although they made so many gargoyles
And so many fountains
The two were very seldom combined,
Which means we’ve had thousands of years
That could have had gargling gargoyles
And yet we got garden gnomes.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 