I met an Indian guy on Tinder,
A philosopher named Deepinder.
I couldn’t understand most of what he said
So he said “Date my brother Shallowinder instead.”
Tag Archives: Stupid
The Making Of Shrek 3 (‘Cause 1 and 2 Are Genius)
There once was a movie
That featured a fart
And, in children, it inspired laughter.
And so it was decreed
That fart jokes were a need
In all movies for children thereafter.
Filed under Poems
But Please Don’t
If I were a flamingo, um…
You wouldn’t be reading this poem.
If I were a beaver
You wouldn’t be reading it either.
If I were a yak
You’d have the last 10 seconds back.
But alas I am a human
So if you want to sue me, you can.
Filed under Poems
Rescue Animal Used Bite: It’s Super Effective!
The animal lovers called it
“A barbaric dog fighting cabal.”
I called it “Well meaning people
“Who haven’t discovered Pokemon Go.”
Take that vegans!
Filed under Poems
She Likes Funny Men
She asked “You know what makes me smile?”
I said “Muscles in your face.”
She hasn’t smiled for a while
And says she Needs some space…”
Filed under Poems
Advice To Passive-Aggressive Discussers Of All Things Political
Instead of intelligent conjecture
Or giving your opponent a lecture…
Just say “Hitler was right”
And boom! Have a fight.
Filed under Poems
Another Once-Great Species Ruined
There once was an African lion
Who was handsome and noble and clever.
He wanted his head to be put on a wall
So he could be admired forever.
Alas, some American vegans
Made a law that to hunt him was banned
So know he stays home in the evenings
And watches MGM films on demand.
Filed under Poems
It Started So Well…
You need rain to make a rainbow.
You need rain to make a plant grow.
You need rain to have water fall from the sky
And that, gals and gents, is how inspirational quotes die.
Filed under Poems
Bad Parental Advice
I did something stupid.
They asked “why did you?
“If your parents where lemmings
Would you be one too?”
Filed under Poems
War Isn’t So Bad…
We’ve walked among some Autumn glades
Just us and the wind from the helicopter blades.
Falling gently to the ground
Are a leaf and some limbs and an M16 round.
A quaint little creek
Glitters bright mountain green
And, despite all our blood,
Is still cool fresh and clean.
We came here to camp,
Found these meadows to walk,
Because some old men
Wouldn’t sit down and talk,
But we can take solace
And our hearts can still sing
All thanks to the peace
That our murder will bring.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 