My teacher asks “What’s the square root of nine?”
I say the answer is three.
The girlfriend asks “What’s the value of X”
And I say “She means nothing to me!”
Tag Archives: Silly
Baby’s First Gangsta Rap
I hit my brother
And hit my mother.
It was not okay.
They said “Don’t hit.”
I said “No shit”
And hit them anyway.
Cops saw the fight,
Turned on their light,
And hit me in the gut.
So hitting’s okay
With the government’s say?
And I was all like “Wut?”
I hit the cop
And hit my pop
With my inflatable hammer.
They cuffed my wrists
To stop my fists
And shut me in the slammer.
I was in jail
‘Cause no one paid bail
And was charged in juvenile court.
I can’t write a sentence
But I’ll attempt repentance
And maybe build a fort.
Filed under Poems
Florida Man Goes Traveling
“Peculiar” is the word she used
Which made me just a bit confused.
What’s in any way peculiar about a guy
Who likes to eat burgers for lunch
With a glass of fruity punch
And, for dessert, has a slice of gator pie?
Filed under Poems
Trials of an Amateur Magician
Massachusetts, 1692:
They say a woman joked
Telling her husband, “I got your nose!”
Within an hour the fire was stoked…
Filed under Poems
Mother’s Always Right
My mother told me
“You know you’ve hit rock bottom
“When you spank statues.”
Filed under Poems
Mornings
Like the breath of the moon I watched my thoughts
And sang within my heart,
Combining dreams with promises
Into an invisible art.
I listened for the absent birds
Counting seconds before they pass
Which is a more mystical way to say
I was tired so I sat on my ass.
Filed under Poems
Is Mary In Labor Yet?
We’ve waited for a while now
To celebrate some waiting,
Expectantly expecting
To be anticipating.
Today at last the wait can end
And world peace is beginning
Until the 26th occurs
And we resume our sinning.
Filed under Poems
*Rapidly Buys Stock In Scarf Company*
If you throw plastic in the trash
I hope you realize
That you might be the reason
A baby turtle dies
And if, because of plastic,
Sea turtles end up dead
They can’t make turtleneck sweaters anymore
And you’ll have to wear scarves instead.
Filed under Poems
The Real Reason For Bread And Water In Prison
Want to give stopping crime a try?
We’ve got police and the FBI,
The CIA and TSA
And yet crime just won’t go away!
I have a method that may just work:
If somebody is being a jerk
Feed them lots of food, ’cause who
Commits a crime when they have to poo?
When perpetrators are constipated
You’ll find most violence had abated;
If you don’t want to end up dead
Feed potential felons bread.
Filed under Poems
My Dating Algorithm (1-10)
To find a man’s value
Divide his income by 10,000
Then subtract two to compensate.
To find a woman’s value
Call her a ten
(If she has a penis, call her an eight).
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 