Tag Archives: Stupid

2021

Deep below, the hipster slugs

Are killing worms and taking drugs

And handing out free slimy hugs

And chanting “Slug Lives Matter.”

High above, against the odds,

Someone applauds the gastropods

And, thinking they are modern gods,

Eat escargot and grow fatter.

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The Dream MLK Forgot

She showed a sign and shouted

And got up in our faces

Telling us about how white folks

Are the worst of all the races.

The way her spittle spattered

Was a most impressive sight,

My first and last impression

Of a peaceful Portland night.

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My Solution To School Shootings (Until They Clone Chuck Norris)

They should clone Queen Elizabeth

14 billion times

So we can all have immortal bodyguards…

It’s true and it rhymes!

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Nostalgia For Days Less Wordy

I am a man who’s mostly fluent

In most things some call “incongruent.”

If you don’t swallow, you shall spewn’t.

Also, I’m not Clyde.

I hope the intro set the scene

For me to tell you what has been;

This time’s the time I met my queen,

My once and future bride.

My eyes fell softly on the wench

Who sat backwards upon a bench,

Talking to a crescent wrench

About which bands were good.

I asked the lady, “How be it

“That you who speak to hardware sit

“With legs ensconced, I do admit,

“Within that bench of wood?”

She did not reply at first,

For my manners were near the worst,

And I, my oversight, then cursed

And then addressed the tool.

Now seeing that I understood,

She said “I’m trapped within the wood

“Because I wondered if I could.”

Now I felt like a fool

And so I left her trapped within

The bench where didst our tale begin,

For sitting backwards is no sin

But merely hard to grasp.

She’s still my queen and future bride,

For I speak truth and have not lied.

When she is free, and bathed beside,

Her body I will clasp.

For who better to share a life,

Who better to be made a wife,

Than one, though trapped, can feel no strife

Though physics she has broken?

And who, from her odd point of view

Can feel a love so strong and true

Than not Clyde, whose hair isn’t blue,

Who made her heart awoken?

This tale has a moral, yes,

So close your eyes and take a guess.

Your eyes are closed… how read you this?

Anyway, I boast

That this here incongruent verse

Tells you, dear reader, of my curse

And that there are things so much worse

Than a lazy, four-line post.

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Live ‘n Learn

The Genie asked, “What’s your last wish?”

I said, “I wanna fly!”

It got eaten by a frog

And now I enunciate more clearly.

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The News Be Like…

It is a fact from an incited source

That 30 percent of collisions

Are the result of someone driving drunk;

In other words, poor decisions.

That means that 70 percent

Of sober drivers crash.

Driving without drinking

Is, according to statistic, rash.

That fact, if analyzed in depth

Means that driving sober will

Increase your chances by 133%

That, by driving, you will kill.

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From the Diary of Washington’s Next Top Martyr

This afternoon, Jay Inslee,

The Governor of WA,

Mandated everyone wear masks

To which I stated: “Ha!”

The problem with such mandates

Is that if up the police show

You can say “I’m attracted to plants today”

And they have to let you go.

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Why Has No One Mentioned This Unsung Hero Yet? Conspiracy!

Amidst the “What the heck?s”

About kneeling for anthems and necks

One man has consistently stood tall:

That man is Neil Diamond,

Who protested against crime and

Didn’t change his name to “Stand.” That’s all.

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Seek First To Understand, Then To Be Understood

If you think saying “Spongebob’s gay”

Will make the haters go away

Then I am most inclined to say

You’re stupid and you’re wrong.

If you think that posting signs

And standing tall in protest lines

Will make the “bads” turn into “fines”

I’ll sing a different song.

If you think that making noise

About police and childrens’ toys

And how some girls are really boys

Is going to change a heart

Then I will proudly bear the news:

Insulting those with different views

Won’t stop the “other people” blues,

But listening? There’s a start!

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When You Have A Punchline But It’s Four Syllables Long…

Step one: Be God’s son

Step two: Write on stone tablets

And Step three: Prophet!

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