Tag Archives: Weird

Fired From Hallmark… Again

Why’d the first flamingo think

“I’ll be flightless, awkward, pink?”

How’d the first hippo decide

To be as tall as it was wide?

Why did the first jackass choose

That name as the one to use?

You may wonder, so here’s a clue:

They all wanted to be like you!

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Don’t Let The Faux-Somnolent Diminish Your Importance!

When one says “I must be dreaming”

(Implying you’re something they snoozed)

You should slap them with a chicken

Just to make them more confused.

An alligator also works

But they’re tougher to hide.

Also, if you’re sleepy and poultry-phobic

I find it’s best to stay inside.

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They Told Me To Find My Passion… (AKA My Tool Is Longer Than Yours)

As my eyes met the tape measure

I felt the fire rear up in my heart

And I knew that in the future

I could measure

In metric or imperial units

How high those heart-flames soared.

Some people mocked my passion,

Said I’m weird for longing

To know how long my longing was,

But I say its better than being bored.

When I feel that need to now how I feel

And I pull out that flexible metal bar

And with each box, each wall I measure

The heavens ring with a music

Only it and I can hear,

A cord’s secret chord.

And somewhere in that tape measure

That sings our hidden music

I hope its heart is happy

Knowing my pocket will be its home

And gone are the days

When its passions were ignored.

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…Or Is It An Untapped Business Opportunity?

If you are an amputee

Does your erotic preference change

To match your physicality,

Or is my asking that just strange?

The reason that I ask

Is that I want to get

The web domain StumpHump.com…

Is that something I may regret?

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And, Somewhere, A Naked Professor Sheds A Tear Over His Sushi And Immediately Regrets It…

If wishes were fishes

We’d eat way more trout,

If thoughts were diplomas

We’d have much more clout,

If logic were clothing

We’d mostly be nude,

But if teardrops were onions

We’d really be screwed.

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Live and Learn

Your face in my vision

With such precision,

A sight I’ll never forget;

How your eyes met mine

At 12:09…

The feeling’s not left me yet.

I realized two truths

That night in Duluth

As to your house we started walking:

The telescope seller was good,

I fall when hit by a block of wood,

And legally my actions could be called “stalking.”

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When Your Dream Job Is *This Close*

If I were a sniper

And also a duck

I’d rely on my training

And also my pluck

To take out a target

In one master stroke.

I’d let out a quack

When I see the guy croak.

Being a duck sniper

Some might call “fowl.”

But I could wear camo makeup

And maybe a cowl.

But alas I was born

With a bad lot of luck;

I could still be a sniper

But never a duck…

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