Tag Archives: True Story

This Poem Doesn’t Rhyme But My English Professor Still Hated It

I think a good name for a dog

Is “Help”

Because when you call after it

Other people look at you

And some of those lookers

Are rich and/or sexy

And enjoy the company

Of cheekily named dogs

And their owners…

Just sayin’.

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A Hollywood Musical

Hollywood!

(It’s so darn good)

Oh yes, oh yes, I say.

Hollywood!

(Land of falsehood)

Oh yes, oh yes.

Where what’s important aren’t the facts unless they fit into three acts.

The place where fiction goes to diiiiiieeeeeeee!

Where it’s okay to have no story. CGI can bring you glory.

So can manly men who cryyyyyyyyyyyy!

Hollywood!

(Our favorite wood)

Oh yes, oh yes.

They’ve done all they could

(More than they should)

Oh yes, oh yes,

To guarantee that you and me will pay hard-earned money to see

A bunch of actors green-screen flyyyyyyy!

Where shirtless six-packed men are common working at Starbucks, eating ramen

Hoping to be a leading guuuyyyyyyyyyy!

You can’t stop Hollywood!

(Long has it stood!)

Oh no, oh not Hollywood!

(What else rhymes with “wood?”)

Nothing I guess…

And if you’ve ever read the book at adaptations do not look

Because you know they’ll only break your heart in twooooooooooo!

And if derivative plotlines can’t send those shivers up your spines

Well, don’t expect the Fox execs to say boo hoooooooooooo!

They gave you big robotic brawlers

And already have your dollars

So why not make Skywalker say “screw yoooouuuuuuuuu?

So if you’re inclined to feel

You don’t want to keep it real

Then come to Hoooooooo

Llllyyyyyyyyyyyy

Woooooooooooooood….

(Dramatic pause)

Toooooooooooooooooo

Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

(Olay!)

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Why The French Make Good High-Rollers

You may look real classy

In your souped-up chassis

And yet prove to be asses

When you read “chassis” as chasses.

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I’ve Looked At Actual Books And Faces In The Meantime

Two weeks ago I left behind

A big part of my life…

And I don’t speak of small stuff

Like a job, a church, a wife…

I left behind the means by which

Most others at me look,

By which I mean the platform

That we know as the Facebook.

And since I stepped away from it

I noticed there’s a sky,

I haven’t heard “impeach Trump”

Nor been annoyed by those who try,

I haven’t argued even once

Or leered at female friends

And my days are nine hours longer

And I don’t care whom that offends.

My IQ’s jumped twelve points so far.

I may have lost some weight.

I talked a bit with strangers

At the bus’s boarding gate.

I went outside three times this week

And didn’t feel lame

And though some folks may still hate me

I don’t comment on their blame.

So overall un-pluggedness

(Or less-pluggedness if we’re honest)

Has made me ever happier,

Less pale, and a bit more modest.

Now instead of saying

“Here’s how my life should be”

To friends I haven’t seen in years

Now I can just be me!

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Thar’s Lookin’ At The Bri’ Side!

I went to bed at midnight

And woke at 5:00 AM

Happy, peaceful, prepped to seize the day,

“But its early” I thought

And so I hatched a plot

To sleep a few more hours anyway.

Now its just about 11:00

And I’m achy, sick, and bored

Wondering what the heck went wrong.

Now I’ll get dumped and buy a gun

And call up Brooks and Dunn

And maybe this day can be a country song!

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Thank You! I’ll Be Here All Night

I’ve got another story

That I thought I’d share with you

And unlike most of my others

This one is completely true.

I’m stuck in traffic, driving

Down through Portland, OR.

At one time people thought “let’s go”

But apparently not anymore.

We’re driving behind a Tesla

With a vanity plate

That reads “UNSTPBL.”

Its driver I do hate.

I know most folks are decent

But my opinion’s going askew

Thanks to Mr. 100K a year

Who has 15 IQ.

I could probably go on longer,

And (we’ll see) perhaps I might.

I’ve got 400 miles ’til I get home

And that’s a lot of night.

I’m glad I don’t live in LA,

New York, or Portland too,

But if you’ve got a book I can sign

Come to I-5 exit 242.

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An Only-Somewhat-Exaggerated Tale Of Today (Dedicated To Seth)

Today I drove a thousand miles

From WA to San Jose,

With a bunch of flaming morons

Tailgating me the whole way,

Weaving through the traffic

Like quilters yearning for death

All behind a mini cooper

Going 20 (License Plate: IMSETH).

As I recline, safe somehow,

On my Californian bed

A realization formed inside

My woeful weary head.

I-5 South, the freeway

A thousand miles through crazyville

Should better be renamed

The route of all evil.

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