I have a fun idea. I am going to write some short little poems. ‘Oh boy!’, I hear you saying in a rather sarcastic tone of voice. You know me better than that. There is a catch. I am not going to write the last line of these poems… you are!
And then we can all read all the ‘money shot’ lines in the comments and decide which ones are the best. And then I am going to do a post with the complete poems. So come on, people. You can be funny or sweet or poetic or twisted. I am purposely making these open ended, so to speak, so they could go in any direction.
Just so you know, I am not going to add this explanation of what I am doing to each new poem as I do it. So watch for the comments by people who have no idea what is going on and just think my poetry is lame… because that should be funny.
Okay, here we go:
………………………………………
I’ve lived my life through many years
Love and laughter, sweat and tears
When from this life I finally pass
—————————————–
Pouring My Art Out 
I’m enjoying the Weebles fellating
I find it all quite titillating
I’m sorry I’m tardy
I missed quite a party
But one that’s still worth celebrating
I think if you had added to it
I wouldn’t be the one who blew it
But no matter how big that Trent guy grew it
All in all, I just say screw it.
The comment thread
Has been quite a dread
For one of sane head
With heart uncorrupted
PMAO shamelessly reckless
Trent clean but bent nonetheless
Ronda un-totally wordless
Shards a tad merciless
I remain guileless…
PMAO has lived few years
Lusts and fetters, debts and fears
When to another life he does finally pass
May he enjoy feeding fat on holy grass
I wish you had been here for the madness.
Oh no…I fear we would have been responsible for taking this soul to the dark side. Would have been a damned shame!
They all knew the risks when they signed up!
Really? Well….I didn’t! Did you hide the fine print? I missed it!
You didn’t sign the waiver???
nope. hmmmm….what mischief can i get into now
You shouldn’t even be here… Did you take the safety training class? Or get the safety equipment package?
haha…safety smafety and i have my own equipment ‘package’…i think i’ll take my chances and on the wild side.
I knew I missed something. I was feeling too sane and alright.
We can fix that.
And if I don’t wanna be fixed?
Yeah!
Okay, let me see you fix what doesn’t wanna be fixed.
Throw me out in the trash
I could never do tha… oh wait… good one…
741 comments? Crap dude. So this is what a popular blog looks like.
I have to answer you in verse
I had a plan that ended up as a curse
I admit that this is getting comments galore
But I have one post with even more
I won’t be able to rhyme, alas
But alas rhymes with so many things… ha
Hahahahaa!
You should have had the second line ending in ‘Moon’ that would have been a killer.
I might not be done just yet
You fiend!
word
“found me a nut wrench, it’ll be his last”
sorry, just couldn’t quit gigglin…why is it that all tools are named with nasty references? you got your calk, your hammer, your rods and suckits, oh my bad, sockets…lol
Men named them with all that glamor
that’s why we have a ball-peen hammer
just don’t nail in the cracks, that’s what the calk is for!
that didn’t rhyme at all
oh shit, we’re we rhyming? I got lost at the hardware store and …….
It is hard to say which begins where,
I always start in the aisle for hand tools….bbzzzzzz
By all means give yourself a hand
But watch out for that tender gland
its ok I know which spot it is
practice makes a perfect fizz
Fizz? Fizz? Did you say Fizz?
In naughty bits, and all that jizz?
I said fizz not jizz my sick little friend
for I fizzle and drizzle in the end
but never jahizzle in the hazizzle
for I go for a bedazzled geewizzle
I lay down and bare my throat
Go ahead, it’s time to gloat
You kicked my ass, both fair and square
with your shiny, sparkly vagizzle hair
lolololololololololololol
you’re vagizzle made me cry
I cannot tell a lie
my neighbors can hear me cackling
sending white coats for tackling
they’re coming to take me away
ahaa, shiny hair in disarray
Glitter is like herpes, it wont go away
You will never catch me decorating my privates that way
shmazzle bedazzle
it’s all the same to me
no ones gonna see it
but the dark and me
I am just drawing a blank on rhymes about sparkling girl parts, to tell you the truth
lol
sigh
With the good an the crass
If this is the last line of the poem, I like it… if it is just a random thought, I like it even more!
Last Line of the poem 😀
Okay… good… but either way…
And leave behind a deathly gasp.
Ok I first thought.
Leave behind smelly gas
Then my next thought was –
And kill you with me deathly gas.
I like the smelly gas…
Are my comments coming through…I think I’ve fried my wordpress notification button. If I haven’t responded to every single thing you’ve said to me….tell me….i saved them on a sticky. just in case!
Check the spam folder… stat…
my spam is rubbish. nah, just my computer getting sick of me talking back. all better now though..i taught it how to FLY!
I would have liked to see that.
Hope I’m face down in a burger like Mama Cass.
That is gross, descriptive, and oh so tasty!
If you’ve got to go, it may as well be while doing something that you love.
Sweet…
That is sick. I like it. Also, who is Mama Cass?
She was in the band the Mamas and the Papas. She was overweight. Died of a heart attack in a restaurant, fell face down into her hamburger.
Crike. I think you’re actually serious. This makes your response to the poem a little sadder but also a little funnier. Well done.
This is why they invented Google.
Hey let’s keep this family friendly, there are some nice people in these parts.
Not in these parts.
Are you on a nun again? They don’t go for that Google jazz. Perhaps she could pray for you… that should work.
I am serious, And thank you. 🙂
This is a serious free zone.
My pleasure. Please come back to these parts to keep things honest.
One tries. 🙂
By all means, keep things honest
It’s always darkest, before the dawnest
Please sir that sir doesn’t make too much sense
Reading it is like sitting on a razorblade fence
I wish there was some merit to your endless words
A pattern or an endpoint of better quality than turds
I admit I have made rhymes that were a little cleaner
But now sir, you are just being a wiener
My wiener has never been in doubt
My envious south-of-the-border lout
Are you bragging about that wiener?
It looks more like a bent pipe cleaner
I thought she choked on a chicken bone.
Oh, wow. We’re both wrong, it seems. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mama_Cass
Dang urban myths… but the Keith Moon part was cool.
Kind of creepy.
You can’t make this stuff up.
Well, yeah you can.
Well I can, but not everybody can.
We do love to split hairs, you and I.
Someone has to do it.
Oh lord save me from the young.
Um, what lord are you referring to exactly?
Any and all.
Is this another old person thing? Please provide me with a wiki reference to said topic, or just instagram something already. Come on, get with it.
Oh no, this looks fun, I joined too late, sorry, I’ve been DIY’ing, and I’m not referring to masturbation
Holy crap. I’m pretty sure this guy is masturbating. That should be the last thing you are thinking about in this comment thread. Or the only thing. I’m not sure which.
No wonder people are giving me funny looks at work
As long as that’s all they’re giving you…
Even after my CV boasts I work well alone and in a team
I can tell that you are an excellent employee, but please, for the love of God, draw your blinds.
haha! I sit right in front of the blinds, it’s almost as if you can see…
I promise not to peek.
Busted!
And blind your draws…
Isn’t that a little bit of an overkill solution to an apparently mild problem? I mean pleasuring oneself in the workplace has many negative consequences I suppose, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. I guess.
It doesn’t really fall into the ‘gotta do’ category. You do know it’s optional, right?
Ummm…. yeah…. sure…. optional…. (laughs nervously).
The circle of life… ha!
No tips?
They’re not the tipping type.
On tippy toes?
Tipsy toes?
Don’t let the little piggies drink.
Um, well, this little piggy just got turned into bacon. That little piggy made ham.
Or jam… get it? Toe jam… football… walrus scumboo…
God, if I start getting comments like that, I’m in serious trouble. Like I said, stop making up words. The rules of English are long-established by the Queen. Obey her in all things. Also, it’s okay to lust for the Queen. Honestly, it’s okay.
I will if I do.
She is a dirty dirty Queen. Hands off, lady.
Off with his hands
Queen of the lands!
The Queen is from the family Regina
And is very effective with her…
As the Queen said to her royal OBGYN
“We are not amused to see you again.”
Vagina!
ha
Yeah… that must be why…
:-O
ha
Penalty box for foul language, dirty mind, and unclean thoughts about self gratification and nuns not put into poem form.
I’m pretty sure nuns are allergic to penalty boxes.
You would think so.
Good… because you should never have to do that by yourself…
Okay, for those who come after…I’m putting the poem in the comment so THEY don’t have to backtrack…here it is
I’ve lived my life through many years
Love and laughter, sweat and tears
When from this life I finally pass
—————————————–
…and my contribution to the Last Line List:
My sense of humor dies with me, alas (that’s in case Latitant Lewin thinks you’ll bequeath it to him)
…the real last line to this laterigrade linguisitical lexis
Leonine I’ll be to the last.
All right that’s upped the bar. SB, I find your comments highly literary but I am disappointed that I will not inherit your sense of humour. I could do with a good dose, as evidenced by this long trail of wrecked commentary.
Hmmph…long trail you say? That’s a beer here…shall I grab a couple?
If you are going to get lost in the sticky swamp of my madness, might I suggest that you not grab the first guide you happen to bump into? Shop around.
Also, we sell maps in the lobby… and rope, water bottles, flashlights, etc.
As many as you can please.
done and done
sigh
awww
Those beers aren’t free, just so you know…
Yeah but at least they’re Canadian.
Moosehead served in a real moose head.
Sounds appetizing, no? Don’t knock it till you try it.
I invented it, so of course I tried it. I owe it to my costumers.
Sorry. I moostook you for someone else.
Ha
What’s so funny? This is how we talk. By we, I mean me and the moose.
I have to make a collect moose call.
Boooooooooo……
Is that what they sound like???
Only when they giggle.
oh
Or mate. Same thing actually.
Was I just insulted???
I’m shocked that you noticed. Now that’s definitely an insult.
Not a very formidable one, I’m afraid.
Well you have to keep in mind that I am a very nice guy. Isn’t that obvious?
Oblivious?
I don’t know the meaning of the word.
And lots of other words as well.
Que?
Quemo therapy.
Oh boy. Cancer treatment humour? How low are you willing to go? You’ve already sacrileged the nuns and their flaming beavers while somehow finding the time to offend moose everywhere. I thought this was about poetry. What about the poetry, man? The poetry!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well move on to number two… and no… that wasn’t a continuation of our flushed conversation.
I think I just had a vowel movement.
I was consonated.
I’d really like to hear what you take for that condition. Must be some kind of medication that can ac-comma-date it.
Prunes for when I’m full of poo
Bananas when it turns to goo
That is really quite true
I hope the goo doesn’t land on Sue
I am glad you decided that you want to play
Now keep on doing it the rest of the day
Commadante, I follow you into the breach
For you have such lovely teeth
I do, don’t I?
uh oh… we done is got us another one o’ them there smart person people who wandered in here by mistake!
I must admit to being a bit lost in the weeds here (you were right…assuming you are speaking to me…Lewin is NOT the guide to latch onto at this juncture). Oh yes, to continue with me in the weeds….WERE you speaking to me? If so, I don’t know if you’ve been insulted or not….I’ve fucking forgotten what we were talking about!
(blame the guide…that canadian has hair on the brain) 🙂
I was speaking to you, and he has more than just hair on his brain, he also has a flaming beaver there, but you have to go way back into the past to figure out how that all came about.
beavers, flaming no less, monkeys, alien whatchamacallits, oranges…is there no END to the fodder he stores up there?
He didn’t invent the flaming beaver… it is a Canadian tradition… and I am the one who likes monkeys… I don’t know about oranges… but I wrote entire novels about aliens… wait… who are we talking about here? There will be no hero worship about anybody but me!!!
Heard well Oh Great One…worship for you and you alone. Got it on a sticky now so I won’t forget!
I am feeling slightly placated… but you are still being monitored for proper worshipfulness…
Yes oh great teller of tall and twisted tales….your wish is my command. ahem…can i have that Hiney in a glass please?
In the land of imagination, some things you just have to get for yourself.
jeez…what kinda bar maid are you? no tip for you.
I am more the bar owner, bouncer, and I am in the band. I don’t wait tables.
hiring then? i need a job
Can you mix a drink using crack squirrel blood?
Um hello, statistics prove that Canadians are not very hairy. Our beavers are very hairy, but not after they’re in flaming mode. After a good flaming, our beavers are quite pleasantly bald. Same with our nuns. Whew, I’m glad I got that off my chest.
can i talk to your wife please?
Um, I will get her on the phone SB. She has not been participant to this den of madness and stray nuns as yet. What do you want to talk to her about? The flaming beavers? They helped this Art fella out once in his revolt against WordPress. It was a bloody bloody battle and both sides took severe casualties. But the beavers had their day, coming over the hills with their fur aflame. It was really quite inspiring and fearsome, but the smell was not too good.
ugh and yuck and holy flaming pile of beaver butt. okay, will leave lovely wife out for now…would not want this making its way into the bedtime stories by mistake.
Yeah that would be a total disaster. Wow. What a comment thread. I could almost write some fiction around these conversations.
almost? please NB, if anyone can make more nonsense out of this nonsense….’til you!
Ahhh shucks that’s sweet SB. I’ll have to wrap my head around that particular story. And drink a lot. Kind of goes hand in hand.
bottle to mouth….
I’m really glad you said “bottle”.
careful.
Why? Is someone watching? I certainly hope so. This grand literary blogstain should have some witnesses. Hey WordPress – Freshly Press this, bitch!
ha
Don’t laugh, a WordPress fairy just landed on my shoulder.
That was a crack squirrel.
I would much prefer a crack squirrel. Sooooo much more interesting, and they seem to make better decisions overall.
They make decisions very fast.
SB, you need to end this madness. If that means putting Art out of his misery with a well-placed swing of a baseball bat, I give you my blessing. Be careful though. He is a cagey one. I think he may have some monkey blood…
I have a bottle of it behind the bar… for special drink orders.
You have a bottle of monkey blood? Oh boy. You have now risked the wrath of the monkey himself. He is a feces-slinging trouble-maker of epic proportions and I do not think you want to call on his brand of relatively flatulent ire. You know, he’s a lot like us actually…
The secret is to be a lot like him.
I dunno. The feces singling part is a bit untidy.
feces singling???
Slinging perhaps? Singing? It could have been feces singing. Monkeys are strange that way.
He sings every word
and slings every turd
(sing with me):
Turd turd turds are people too
Turd turd turds are just plain poo
Turd turd turds in the microwave
Turd turd turds served with minced sage
Turd turd turds holding hands with me
Turd turd turds turning old and green
The cat in the hat was so full of poo
In the toilet he made a thing one and thing two
Oh what shall we do
With the turds named thing one and thing two?
Oh what will my mother think when she comes home?
And finds two such hefty objects in the toilet bowl?
And look there’s the cat in the hat with a gun
Shoving it into my mother’s bum
I wish she would just run far away fast
But she never really did have much class
here we go with da monkey again. and i’m enjoying the banter as opposed to the batter….and I just have to say…THE COMMENT COUNT ON THIS POST HAS GOT TO BE A RECORD!!!! Better than even Weebs. Holy talk much Batman?
But we need the batter to make waffles on waffle Wednesday!
how about wiffles on wiffle whatever day? i love wiffleball and don’t let the plastic fool ya…hurts like bloody hell! Ummm, can I still have a waffle tho? stahvin’ here
You just turned the batter thing back around towards the waffle thing, but made it veer off into the wiffle thing… which might be spelled whiffle… I think there might indeed be a place for you here.
Yay…I’m Somebody!! Better than being in the phonebook!
You can have both.
do cell phone books exist? sadly, i think not
You may be right
And 400 comments on a post is nothing. I have one with over a thousand. Although now that I think about it, it is the same three people doing most of them…
hahahaha…funny how that happens. you should have a cut off switch for those annoying pesky people who shite all over your blog. not me, but lewin maybe
His crap helps the flowers to grow tall. And if I have to choose between friends who say too much and ones that say too little, I am going with the too much people.
can’t argue with good crabs. i lived in maryland ya know…we give good crabs. oh, and yeah, i’m with you Great One…definitely err on the side of too much! hey,, got any Old Bay?
I’m sure there is some around here somewhere.
good…as the proprietor of this fine establishment, you must always be prepared.
Banter as opposed to the batter… SB, you lend a certain intelligence to these proceedings, that seems funnier than most of the things I have been reading on this comment thread. As a result, the monkey is very angry at you.
Anyway, yes this has got to be some kind of record, hasn’t it? Who counts up these things? I like the idea of the Weebs (I’m assuming you mean the utterly acceptable and completely middle-of-the-road Weebles). We should find a way to involve her in these proceedings. She has a tart tongue and a kickin ass, her presence would be most welcome.
as much as i adore reading the weebs…i will say here, that i’d just as soon keep her out of these proceedings…i do NOt want the competition!!!
I understand. I don’t think this Art fellow could handle the Weebles anyway. She would likely reduce him to a quaking pile of shuddering gibberish. Wait a minute…
don’t say it NB…you are already in deep doo doo
Doo doo is the least of my problems. I am usually up to my elbows in it anyway.
true dat! forgot you have younguns’ hahaha
Youngest is 10 months now! And I’m about to catch a plane to go back to her. Remind me never to come to Florida in the summer… bad idea.
10 months is an awesome age!!!
And then some. Soooo smiley.
I love babies.
They are the best.
I love babies
but not when they have rabies
I refuse to sink to your level, which is quite heinous
I hope a monkey crawls into and lives in your anus
I narked you to Weebles, and to your blog I linked her
Now I will watch her cram a beaver up your sphincter
She’ll be crawling up the monkey
Deep inside
She’ll be crawling up the monkey
When she’s high
She’ll be crawling up the monkey
Getting a little funky
She’ll be crawling up the monkey
Up his ass
I pictured a day of lovely
Sweet and romantic poetry
Now we had fun with a nun
We had a fever with a beaver
We had troops of poops
and major smarts to out private parts…
can’t believe it’s been 10 months already! seems just yesterday you were in pseudo labor…and all those weeks of sleepless in storonto (hey, zip it)….congrats on that. and…safe journey.
Thanks SB. I have arrived and so happy to be home.
Happy to hear it. Now go enjoy the family. And the NOT florida weather! 🙂
First comes work. And oh yes, slacking off work by doing this instead.
atta boy
Dear Southern Belle you are failing to rhyme
Just pick a word and go with it, like “slime”
If you want to talk about nuns and moose that’s okay
But the monkey might get angry I have to say
Slinging his excrement from place to place
Even getting a turd all the way into space
I’m sure there are better things we could be doing
Like squatting atop this computer and pooing
But where is the fun in that I must ask?
We need you Southern Belle and all your sass!
I’m coming…just realized you’d all moved on.
In the forest I once had some fun
With a dirty dirty little nun
When I say little I mean she was short
And often farted in our blanket fort
When I asked what she ate to smell like that
She twisted my nipples and pooped in my hat
as defenses go that’s not a bad one
this hat pooping shorty, farting, and bad nun
but i dare suggest a nun she was not
when you were fiddling and faddling in your blanketed hot hut
but if she were truly a woman of grace
she’d have spared the hat and pooped on your face
I think she just set fire to your reindeer
The monkey ain’t the only one flinging poop in here
fly poop?
here’s the scoop
shit flies high here
but i stay dry dear
’cause i have a hat
in which NO ONE shat!
The cat in the hat had a hat most unshat
No beaver or nun above it ever sat
so good to know
that suess made it so
the cat in the hat
would brook no shat
but as beavers go
and nuns don’t you know
a lesson they could learn
don’t shit where you eat cause it makes your fur burn
A lesson learned
A pelt unburned
A stomach churned
A penny earned
word
Is the word turd?
Or is that too absurd.
too absurd by a measure of ten
but turds and birds of a feather must bend
the rules of ettiquette, decent or not
so that the likes of us can speak of it lots
But can we not climb from this pit
so smoother we not in a pile of shit
one could wish for a ladder of sorts
with rungs and rails for added support
but we both know it would be useless
this living in poo has made us ruthless
we scratch and claw and moan and groan
but in the end, are we not home?
Oooohhh that was deep… shit… ha…
hahaha
Dear Southern Belle my delicious pal
Bring all the poop you got gal
What a wonderful poetry selection
But Art already pooped in my general direction
It was not a pleasant way
To spend the day
I would prefer instead to visit the nun
She’s so full of slutty fun
But ho there’s a priest atop her now
Bending her over her own bow
She is making quite a raucous noise
Taking it from a former altar boy
well howdy doody
and tutty fruity
you sure as shite have done your duty
by the grace of God and all his minions
you screwed in pooch in my opinion
you let the father get your wench
the one bathed in black to hide the stench
of blanket farts and shitty hats
the priest, my son, is up to bat
I will have nun of that
pooping in a hat
farty forts
or nun too shorts
Orange.
Porridge.
Nuff said.
Fart on head.
If I had a dime for every time
A woman said that, and some other rhyme
you’d be rich or a broke bitch
which?
I like to switch…???
schwitchin is cool
saves the tool
from becoming redundant
and lacking in fun-dant
I have never been accosted
let alone been frosted
it would be such a wonder
to be frosted down under
i hear tell that the freezing
is best when it’s breezing
as icy winds flow over
the white cliffs of dover
not that i would know
of such things that blow
being a female
my parts being unmale
what breezes i would feel
are only if you kneel
and lips you pucker
and blow on the sucker
makes me tingle to think it
i now need a drink-it
and a smoke
All this talk of my nether regions
Not that they haven’t been viewed by legions
Is not the topic I would have chosen
Especially if they might get frozen
heaven forbid
for if it did
you’d have in your pants
a pop-dickle perchance.
Icepickle?
Not a nice pickle
rofl…you’ve got me there
HA!
The fat cat in the top hat can’t top that
That’s what she shat.
I’m aware of that
First comes work, then comes marriage
Then comes the baby in the baby carriage
First comes work
Then comes wank
Then comes little Hank
Ready to be spanked
Then comes more work
And my boss the jerk
And occasional marital sex
Lasts about two minutes I bet
Go enjoy your family
but only if you speak Doctor Seussily
i got the message the first time you said it
i went to the wall and actually read it
i’ve entered my rhyme in the space and the time
you allotted for such crap that doeth flow from my mind
This is harder than I thought it would be
But you are having no trouble keeping up with me
try hard i will
bet your last schill
but sooner or later
i’ll get caught by that gater
that eats little rhymers
in the rhyming time diner
til then it’s on art
ill rhyme til my brain farts
then you’ll have a mess
to clean up
My blog will be full
Of huge mounds of bull
I will need a hose or
a great big bulldozer
no OR about it
hose it or doze it
cause if you ignore it
it just build up more shit
I’ll be swimming or be sinking
In a pile richly stinking
pee eew and thank you
for forewarned is bound to
save me from stinking
which leads me to drinking
before noon!
Don’t drink from the hat
Once worn by the cat
laws no would never endeavor
to drink from the hat worn by someone unclever
enough to allow that ol stinker to pee
in the hat that the cat gave to YOU before ME
I chuckle as I say with a yawn
I will be pissed off, but never pissed on
touche
and hooray
douche and scaramouch
Yeah, whatever, so glad you are home
now answer in the form of a poem
I told you to use toilet paper…
I’m pretty sure that was for some other purpose.
It has many uses.
And even some marginal nutritional content. Could be handy in a pinch.
Besides, we must give this Art fellow the attention he deserves. He really does rip his guts out for our amusement. It’s sort of hard to watch at times, but it’s never dull.
Hara kiri isn’t supposed to be a spectator sport…
It’s a voyeuristic society my friend. Plunge that knife deep, we would appreciate it.
The first cut is the deepest.
Et-tu Bruti?
Will I pat you on the back
Or slice your sacroiliac?
Dear sir beware the ides of March
Wear your collar with abundant starch
For a knife is certainly coming your way
Carried by toga’d senators gone quite astray
And afterwards, dare I say an orgy in the park
Two senators and a nun carrying a carp
And there’s a Canadian beaver in the tree
Humping a crack squirrel hee hee hee
I’ve been stretching with yoga
Put on my iron toga
This battle will be easily won
Our senators don’t get anything done
As to the senators and the nun carpe-diem (HA)
Don’t worry, I can plainly see ’em
And if flaming beavers and crack squirrels breed
We might all of us end up treed
The natural offspring of squirrels and beavers
Are best despatched with very sharp meat cleavers
With a clever I would never trifle
I’m going with a sniper rifle
His own…
technically, i suppose that’s true.
I will have you know that Madame Weebles is crazy about me.
She is a perfectly acceptable blog entity with the very definition of average-minded responses. I mean this with the mildest respect.
Now you are just screwed.
No, I’m positive. Weebles is a neither hot/neither cold middle-of-the-road season-neutral day. In a decidedly pedestrian way, she has all the uniqueness of the letter “k” or the flavour vanilla when it comes to ice cream. All perfectly acceptable but with a fast-fading aftertaste. Beyond that, I quite like her.
The ways in which you call her bland
are getting a little out of hand
Weebles is the Contessa of the okay
A middling personality I must say
Possibly she will revolt and kick my ass
But beware my beavers hiding in the trash
With sharp gnawing teeth and pleasing fur
They can chew a Weebles to bits in a blur
If you call down this wrath upon your head
I wont be surprised to find you dead
Remember this, when you lose your crown
Weebles wobble, but they don’t fall down
Doth a Weebles not have feelings?
Doth she truly wear reindeer peelings?
Where oh where are you Weebles I ask?
Please tell me it’s not you behind that Art mask.
When one rhymes with Weeble
One must not be feeble
I say the more the merrier… like the hunger games…
i’m hungry..who’s hungry…we make a game of hungry…i never joke about food, except oranges and that’s lewin’s fault. never saw hunger games, but the weebs would fit in here. she’ll take over though, like our northern brother. she just will!
Okay… I can’t rhyme any of this… and I am in the middle of a thing… look at the newest post… unless you get this later, after I do a newer new post, and then look at the one behind that one… or below, I guess… then join in the fun…
if i can weave my way thru that…i’ll find it. 🙂
(it’s the one called… hey everybody… or something like that)
She has a kickin’ ass???
Yeah I went there.
That sounds obscene.
You should see how it looks. Lots of splurting and pulling and dangling and stomping and aimless walks in the countryside looking for my poodle.
You will find your poodle
down by the strudel
Actually sir a truth about the poodle
He is now the main ingredient in the strudel
It’s a little crusty and there are some chewy bits
Beware poodle hair and ground up poodle grits
I do not cook poodle
in a strudel
I put the whole kit and caboodle
In a sauce on a noodle
You should eat poodle
Dressed up in a strudel
While licking your noodle
What the hell is a caboodle?
They come in a kit
Holding hands with yourself might keep you out of some of that other trouble we were talking about.
I dunno. I’m pretty good with my toes.
………….
Case in point. I am not using my fingers to type right now. And, possibly, not my toes either…
………….
You could have at least included an exclamation mark. Lord knows I tried…
He may know, but the rest of us didn’t.
I give up… I relegate myself to perpetual third wheel status… I will be in the car…
oh no, please don’t go
I know when I’m not wanted. I will play no second fiddle to any man inside my own head!
i love the fiddle. can ya play me a tune?
I play the guitar… you can hear some of my songs by clicking on the button on the bar at the top of the page called something clever like: ‘my original songs’. There are even little video things with the words and everything.
love it! and, I too strum the strings. Have since I was knee high…write some too. Good for you, and glad to know it. 🙂
That better not be a euphemism…
nope. honest injun
Then strum away.
strummmmm. hang on, i’m outta tune. STRUMmmmmm…there. we’re good. let’s jam
Where do I stick the plug?
you really don’t want me to answer that
Ha
This is real life… more or less…
God I hope not…
My real life…
Who is cheating on who here exactly???
They were no help at all against the oppressors tiny robots…
Hey they tried! Give em a break, they had to travel a long way, and you were a bit stingy with the provisions.
I told you not to set them on fire until the last minute, but no….
I was looking out for you man! One second I was like relaxing by the igloo and the next I was screaming into the phone “flame on”! Man, nothing takes an order quite like a beaver.
Like suicide bombers who light the fuse too early… not as useful as they could be.
Um, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the controversial and political nature of your comment. The beavers, meanwhile, are incensed.
Like they burn like incense?
I don’t know where this is going at all…
nowhere fast!
You spend a lot of time with your bad thoughts, I can tell.
They keep me warm at night. It’s cold over here you know.
Flaming beavers keep you warm…
Some parts more than others.
That is how flame works.
I will relay that comment to the beavers. Perhaps you can train them in advanced warfare. In fact, if they can pry you out of the tent, they would be happy to have you. Repeat after me: flame on, beavers! Eh eh eh!
I will use them to warm my feet and toast marshmallows…
As long as you don’t toast the beavers. That’s generally a no-no.
They taste good on toast?
You sir have gone too far. I hope the mounties toss you over Niagara Falls in a barrel.
A pickle barrel.
I’ll give you a half-full rum barrel. At least that way you’ll have some fun. Also, bring some barf bags. Indispensable in close quarters.
screw all these dam beavers and nuns, can I get a flaming cock-tail???
Shards come on! The man runs a family blog here! But you’re right, the nuns are getting irritating. That’s what she said. And by the way, he brought them up and then harrassed the heck out of them. How uncouth. Yes, there. I said “uncouth”.
I’m impressed! and I just wanted a drink…(eyes all innocent looking) 😉 you better warn him about harassing nuns…he’ll get nun in the morning and nun at night!
That sounds about right for him. He seems to enjoy straddling nuns… it’s an odd behavioral pattern.
You were the one who mentioned a nun that started this fun I just took it and run?
A nun in the sun
A bird covered in turd
A moose excreting a goose
A squirrel mutilated by Cyril
These are the things
That make me wear a penis ring
For better or for worse
I’ll be drinking whisky in my hearse
I have been doing this for twelve hours… you win…
ride a nun, save a choir boy! (oh my bad, I think I crossed a line there…teeheeeheee)
A line is crossed
a challenge tossed
I may need to go get sauced
just stay far away
from black dresses today
and toss whatever you may 😉
I will do what I can to stay dressed like a man
can’t believe you let that ‘toss’ comment go
I’m losing faith in your meaning and wit
I must return to the blog-of-de-ho
for he would never let that just sit
…he’s pop it like a pussy zit
If you think that he’s the boss
Then by all means, give him toss to toss
If now and then I seem at a loss
Then wipe your ass with dental floss
oh snap!
crackle and pop at me
your indifference is glaring
you’re turning green moment by moment
the boss would never disdain to comment
or lower himself to this sunblocked level
up my crack with a cornered bevel
Snap crackle and pop, that was just a filler
What are you, a cereal killer?
Or maybe you want to be Phylis Diller
Or a cornered bevel Dennis Miller
I’d rather be a Carol Burnett
or maybe even a Tony Bennett
but Phylis Diller is too classy for me
I’m more a twisted I Love Lucy!
If that is what you’d rather do
You got a lot of ‘splainin’ to do
Perfect! you’ve one upped me
I got nothin left, cept “Ricky!!!!”
That was really the best you could do?
Not even throw in one Babaloo???
“But Ricky, I didn’t mean to do it!”
Ya, ok, I blew it! 😉
……………
Shards has indeed crossed a line
A thing I never thought to view
She was once so pure and innocent
And now spends her time slinging poo
We have rode this horse right into crazy town… I can’t keep up…
I’m ashamed now, you thought me so pure
but unfortunetly, there is no cure
for a sick twisted mind like yours and mine
just blogging poo and a good glass of wine
I can only agree
You are so smart you see
Please bring large volumes of wine
Shards Shards you’re so fine
fine and sparkly especially after some wine
think I’ve had enough for a swine
it’s off to my cave for a night of deep sleep
with my handy tool and a bejazzled peep
sigh
I declare these proceedings to be a draw…
I like you better all the time
now can you say it all in rhyme?
oh please
your such a tease
I rarely get stuck in the muck
cause I’m truly a little ….!
4-wheel drive truck???
goose who needs a good pluck!
(I truly love that your shit eatin grin pops up
next to your comments…
they match your look and it cracks me up.)
That grin is not a little bit
The grin of one who has eaten shit
bullshit
Now whose wit is dipped in shit?
Impressing not one little bit.
oh but you try so hard to snag me
drawing me in with banter and poo
but your bullshit is deeper and much too wide
for me to fathom or attempt to ride
I am not sure how we have ended up here
I never meant to enrage you, my dear
My respect for you is immeasurably high
Now will you please eat shit and die
LMAO… you win!
I always do
It’s sad but true
I do not lure nice ladies into this den of iniquity so you can get your flirt on… I do it for my own selfish reasons… there are you happy? You made me so mad I forgot to rhyme on Dr. Seuss day.
Ah our most gracious host has finally exposed
That he has not the rhyming pattern that he himself imposed
I have been busted
by he I most trusted
in a cell I’ll be thrusted
and drink water encrusted
from a bucket most rusted
my chains wont be dusted
my privates unlusted
the winds of fate gusted
and now I’m disgusted
The poor man’s privates are unlusted
And thus he has been busted
Get him a woman who can’t be disgusted
And is okay with an inadequate thrusting
The cat in the hat can keep telling himself that
Hee hee hee hee… oh the madness. Well I have to retire and write something serious for a change. This has been delightful, an absolute highlight in my blogging experience, but I have a feeling that no amount of showering is going to make me feel clean for some time.
I need to scrape my tongue… and mop the floor
That sounds about right. But messy fun is always the best fun.
If you do it right
Of a flaming drink, you will be a receiver
But no more screwing the nuns or the beaver
I have a real aversion to beavers!! would much rather have a Cock-a-two!
…………………I got nothin
I win!
sigh
oh to hear the crack squirrell sigh
as he uses a pinch of tp
after he shat in his hat there he sat
fondling his hairy monkey with glee
This rhyming is crazy, no ifs ands or buts
A crack squirrel just ran off with my nuts
what will you do
without your nuts
you’ll be so blue
between your if and or buts
It’s been so long since I even see’d ’em
My wife will give them back if I really need ’em
oh! lol
sigh
After spending a half an hour reading the comments…I’ve completely forgotten the poem!! Lewin, you’ve hijacked this page, don’t you have a home of your OWN? 😉 Okay, where was I? Oh yeah, the poem…hang on, I’ll be back. Must go back to the top to read it again. Save my place?
SB, welcome to Trent Lewin’s new home in virtual land! I’d offer you a drink but the landlord is a little cranky and he doesn’t like my music. He also seems to have a fascination with incomplete poetry and nuns. It’s an odd combination.
Then it works…all things being odd that is!
I am not cranky… and I will beat the snot out of anybody who says I am…
Hey, who you calling odd? Just look at the guy who runs this place. Actually, don’t. It may do some damage.
oh please NB…I’d say you “blend”. wouldn’t you?
No, I don’t think I’m his caliber of weirdness just yet – but I may be approaching fast.
road runner comes to mind.
Seriously, you two… get a room…
s’ok…will just snuggle in the corner of yours. 🙂
My mind has no corners or sharp edges, so good luck with that.
okay, will just crawl into an empty box then…you must still have some empty surely….you can label it any way you like…
You still don’t get how this works… you can dance with other inmates… uh… I mean guests, but only in a circle around me, the maypole of all focus, the great golden spider in the center of this sticky web of intrigue, the central pillar holding up the roof of this establishment.
the warlock tied to the post? okay….deal. i’m dancin
I can see why you have become falsely enamored with our Canadian friend. And by all means feel free to hang around his blog making puppy eyes at him. but when he is on my turf, bear in mind that he is just bouncing his random cleverness off of my delicious and delightful madness. Do you want to be captivated by the warmth and mysterious dancing light of the fire, or do you want to stare at the burning logs… it is up to you…
Oh great one..the Lewin pales by comparison, at least while on your turf! As much as I do LOVE a good sit down stare by the fire…I’d much rather dance.
You try my patience. I was merely trying to point out that he is merely the fuel in the fire that is my searing awesomeness! I use him as the fire uses the log. But when the dance is ended, I have spread my thoughts to the winds as the smoke rises… while he is consumed to a small, sooty pile of ash.
HA! Nobody does false shameless pomposity like me, because nobody cares as much as I do!
He is taking the advanced course… I have high hopes…
Count me as your number one disciple. I even have a badge saying so – but I don’t wear it where anyone can actually see it. Honestly, it’s a bit painful. The things I do for mindless adoration…
It isn’t mindless… but I don’t mind all that much.
You have me there. I am clearly in full possession of my mental faculties.
sure
Hey man you started this.
Did I?
I’m relatively sure, unless something really weird has happened, that this is in fact not my blog.
It is so hard to tell sometimes.
I did bring my sleeping bag and I will certainly toast marshmallows with you, but I draw the line at beavers.
I have heard that said about you… HA!!!!!
I totally gave you that one. Just trying to keep you engaged my man.
How very kind
Kiss my behind
Sir, I bid thee come over for sup
And when you do, please pucker up
Be careful where you plant those lips
I wouldn’t aim below the hips
Well my most famous bodily bit
Actually reaches well above the hip
oh my
sigh
I think it’s more of a frappe then a blend… or maybe even just a stir…
not a shake then? damn
I was trying to think of speeds on a blender, but I drew a blank and was too lazy to walk into the kitchen.
nut crusher? oh, sorry…..ice crusher?
We don’t serve nuts in here… HA!!! Now that is some bad-ass irony right there.
hahaha…you don’t serve them because that would be cannibalism.
When you finally get around to exploring the depths of this swamp rather than lurking around in the lobby, you will find that cannibals are the least of your worries.
oh ho…I have been warned. And you call this LURKING? What do I have to do to become a full fledged member? jeez
People have been here for months and never even been noticed. I give you credit for jumping in with both feet. Unfortunately, those feet landed square on the head of the Trent, and that set you back a bit.
I am just running an open-mic comedy club… go ahead… do your whole act…
Who’s acting?
Is that stand up comedy, because I am sitting down.
I’m just glad you’re not lying down.
I do that after I read your comments.
I am suitably disturbed. And a little intrigued. But please – again, no nudity. You have not stumbled to that level as yet – resist your inner nudist my man!
I am always naked inside my head.
I bet you’re wearing tight jean shorts though. I always pegged you for a never-nude.
I was born naked!
I have seen no proof to that effect.
Why would you want to???
Call it scientific curiosity? Sick depravity? Intellectual instability? Does it really matter?
No.
The Mother Superior
can kiss my posterior
There we go with the nuns again. This is an unhealthy obsession I’m afraid. Nuns are our friends you know. And generally they don’t lay their lips on the posteriors of strange males. Ok, this is getting weird…
You started the nun thing… I just made it rhyme… and be funny…
Nuns were funny long before you came along, you know.
I never caught the habit myself.
Ah crap, I’M MELTING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Good one. Now get the frock out of here.
Sure… but I should tell you that there are two kinds of people in this insane asylum… the staff, which is me… and the crazy people…(shhhh… that’s them)… If you spend too much time with them, you can no longer be allowed into the outside world.
No… I’m just kidding. I am the crazy person and they all keep an eye on me to make sure I don’t do anything not crazy.
Must say I like your style…fucking nuts is the legal term. I’m already a lost cause in the ‘crazy’ department…have you read Lewin? Just sayin’
Read him… I discovered him.
ah ha! now it makes sense….HE doesn’t…but IT does. lucky for us you troll the swamps…would have hated not knowing the fella. oh, and btw….nice to meet ya!
I have been considering turning this blog into a singles bar where people can just hook up and ignore me entirely… but good save at the end there.
hahaha. well, i’m in the market for a good singles bar hooking up kinda place….so if you ever change your mind (and promise not to ignore the bartender)…lemme know.
Welcome to Pouring My Beer Out…
Liquor in the front
Poker in the rear
PERFECT! I think. hmmmm. lol
I hate to settle for just perfect.
UberR perfect then?
Close enough.
I shall endeavor to find the perfect phrase then…don’t give up on me!
It isn’t about blind groveling! It is about being able to tell how awesome I am without being told. You will come to realize it all in the fullness of time.
oi…not groveling. (more like shoveling if ya know what i mean)
Well, Trent did leave a mess… and someone has to clean it up…
i’m your man…grew up in shit, married shit, can handle shit. and i don’t mean those in a bad way…just a literal one. wastewater treatment plant builders….that’s what i come from and what i married. yikes. you wanna talk rats the size of horses? i can do that!
You really did end up in the right place.
haha…no shit. oops!
The rest of us are moving on
this post is now dead and gone
ouch.
Sorry for the ouch
I am not a grouch
But I’m stuck writing in verse
so I sound a little terse
completely on board
now that i’ve scored
a new place
a fun place
where one’s never bored
Your brain is like a steel trap
That snaps its jaws with an awesome snap
As long as it doesn’t snap where I sit
Or on my dangling naughty bit
oooh bits and bobs
and handles and knobs
are favorites of mine
most all of the time
so keep yourself tucked in
so you don’t get sucked in
to my little trap
that snaps
I will try not to dangle
Or do it an angle
so I don’t get bit
in the part where I sit
or get tetanus or rabies
down where I make babies
that’s very enlightened
you had me a bit frightened
don’t want to come visit
and see your nobwizit
stuck to the bar
near the pickled egg jar
that would be most gruesome
that unlikely twosome
green eggs and ham
are better than spam
but even spam’s better
than pickled eggs a la peter
Oh wait….I’ll have a Hiney
Is that another crack at my disappearing butt???
men! noassatall syndrome. the lot of ya! makes me SicK i tell ya….just S I C K mad
See… it is a real medical condition.
it is! no doubt about it! just wish it was contagious!
There is such a thing as too little of a good thing…
BUT….pun intended…there is sucha thing as TOO MUCH! I suffer for too much of a good thang
It is all about balance… which makes me wonder what would happen if we each ended up with one of the other’s butt cheeks… not both… just one… wouldn’t we be a sight.
hahaha….i’m falling over, literally, laughing.
must be the imbalance.
Sitting down wont help.
now you tell me
Shhhhhhh… There are a lot of crazy people in here. Duck low and save up the biscuits. Also, cook some biscuits with a duck. Deeeeelicious…..
It pays to have these sorts of survival skills…
I learnt it from the beavers. They are experts.
Self cooking.
Beavers are terrible cooks. You west coasters… you need to come up to the wild and spend some time in nature. Please bring matches. And Ovaltine.
We have some wilds.
I understand. Buffalo has many interesting people. And amazingly enough, many interesting people have killed all the buffalo – coincidence? I think not.
The tongues and humps were supposed to be mighty tasty.
Dirtiest comment to date. Congratulations.
And historically accurate.
That is a clear bonus.
The best kind.
As long as never a tongue shall meet a hump, I’m okay with it.
Not even on hump day?
What will Quasimodo say?
The hunchback came from a place called notre dame
Couldn’t get a girl, so in that he and Art are the same
Maybe you guys should go out on a double date
Two repulsive beasts trolling the alleys, just great
In the first place, women adore me
In the second, you now bore me
In the third place, a drink you should pour me
While you figure out how to ignore me
I have been ignoring you the whole time
This entire exchange is purely in your mind
WwWwWwWwWwWwWwW
Wear a suit by Bill Blass.
You are too classy for this joint… I have always said so.
Oh whatever
Slumming?
Ghettoing
That was Frank of you.
Louise a jolly good fellow
Robespierre to pay Paul.
King to knight 6
You sank my battleship.
Connect 4
If you have a monopoly.
you’ll long for my sweet sassy ass
I like where this is going!
Sweet mother… this is my favorite yet. Um. Does anyone long for my sweet sassy ass? I thought not! Come on, I’m feeling a bit left out here.
Mine is receding… but I still have my hair… so…
I’m sorry: what exactly is receding? Should we be worried?
My butt is slowly vanishing into the sunset… where the sun never shines… whatever…
Most people would consider that to be a problem – but you don’t seem particularly alarmed. I find that mildly curious. Here, I will buy you a dozen donuts to help with your disappearing posterior. Seriously, that is one strange affliction, but what was I expecting really? Fruit arrangements and wheat fields?
It isn’t uncommon at all for men in my age group.
It’s not the age that’s the issue my man.
They either get big or they start to vanish… all part of natures plan, I guess.
You’ll read about my murders mass? *insert Vincent Price laughter* j/k. Of course…I just wanted to be different.
You have achieved your wish with flying colors.
Of course!
Ha.
I really hope it wasn’t gas…
I like it… short, sweet and a little disgusting.
just your style right? lol
Just how I like my women… ha!
lol
The party’s over break out the hash.
Are we all going to smear each other with greasy, chunky corned beef … oh wait… I see what you did there.
When and where is dinner this I ask?
Good one. It never hurts to bring food in. Extra bonus points for that.
How about – “I’ll bet it was from last night’s dodgy beef madras”.
Yes, I think that fits pretty well, what with the sweat and tears.
Plus – checking out on Indian food – that’s practically Zen is what it is.
That was zen… but this is now!
(Say it out loud and it’s funny)
I don’t have a line but am LMAO at all the hilarious responses 🙂 Keep posting.
Phew! Because as a comment, this one rocks, but as a line at the end of the poem, I would have to say I think you could do better.
Uh… I mean thanks.
Or “This ship’s no longer tied to the mast”
You lost me on that one.
How about – “F*ck economy baby, now I’m travelling first class!”
Please spell your profanity in full in the future.
I certainly funkin’ will do next time, no motherfuppin’ doubt about it, I will flippin’ profane like I’ve never profaned before. Oh and balls too. Are kicked around a field if you’re playing soccer. Just being specific.
Excellent.
Kickin’ it up a notch.
In the pantheon of things that flow downhill…
And to one side.
I am patently uninterested in the orientation of your anatomy. Although I could be persuaded otherwise I guess…
You got that patented???
It was a lot of work and I got many odd looks at the photocopier.
You are the man.
I am totally dedicated to my very important work – just like you are.
No doubt.
Yes I concur. Gwen Stefani is quite attractive.
No… she isn’t… she scares me… and I Conquer… not concur.
Look man. I ain’t your hollaback girl. Quite the contrary actually. And the reports that I had back from my army of flaming beavers did not paint you out to be the grand conquering hero that you are claiming. They said something about finding you in a woodshed gibbering over a hunk of goose meat… seriously, what’s that all about?
Your beavers are drunk and or stupid…
Them’s fighting words. This time I’ll send the moose too. Along with a legion of nubile nuns. That will show you.
A legion of nuns riding on their flaming beavers, shooting moose out of giant crossbows…
You have obviously never run your car into a moose. Up here, it’s a right of passage. I highly recommend it. When you see one, merely speed up and make quacking sounds. As for the nuns riding the flaming beavers… that may be slightly blasphemous. I’m okay with mild blasphemy but I did want to point that out in case other people were in here. Why would other people still be in here? I’m not sure. I would worry for them, but as I said before, you started this seemingly-endless trail of wrecked half-thoughts and unfortunate nuns.
Unfortunate thoughts and half wrecked nuns.
Stop wrecking nuns! And I meant to write puns, but well, this works.
It’s better.
Down with nuns? Is it okay to say that? I sense some lightning stirring in the clouds above.
So are you joining in on my plan for tomorrow or what?
There’s a plan?
I did a post…
I drank a toast
I announced it from coast to coast
As a Canadian I must inform you dear host
That we actually have the bigger coast
Your announcement, did it come north of the border?
Or are you some kind of bigotted canuck picker and sorter?
I love out neighbors to the North
When off to war we sally forth
Fighting foes both week and strong
We always let you tag along
I hope a beaver gnaws your anus
For your insults are completely baseless
We Canadians are a fighting force unsung
Just don’t expect us to bring any guns
Unsung indeed
You are hard to heed
Sweet… that was tightrope walking on the sharp edge!
Absofeckinlutely!
The rope is wobbling…
The rope can go fu….lcrum itself. Whew. Nearly fuddled it there.
Good mental image though…
No… family show… mind the children, Richard.
THIS is a family show? THIS? Did you read your post the other day where you used a number of highly questionable terms meant to solicit web traffic? Exactly what family was that intended for? There, I think I have exposed you utterly (don’t take literally – no nudity please, for, as you’ve noted, this is a family show). I repeat. No nudity please. Not even a little bit.
A family show for the Addams family.
Freaks are people too you know.
Yeah we are.
A little raw, perhaps, but I like the sentiment… or is that sediment?
the sediment settling over you two is slightly brown and chunky! maybe darker, with a hint of nun. and Trent, quit standing next to that phallic shaped symbol, it’s a lightning rod! 😉
Your wit I admit, is more than stunning
That Trent I think, I’ll take to shunning.
oh no,
the Trentster is cunning
I’m still just running
and you my friend like a good groaning
while both of you need a good boning!
Can we back off a little from the sex
and try not to make this rated X
I am trying to run a family show
It’s not my fault that Trent is such a ho
my bad! got confused with all the other references…lol
It seems I might have lost control
And been invaded by a troll
I know we are all trying to have some fun
I never should have let in that nun
lol never once imagined a trolling nun…
you win! I can’t quit laughing!
He shoots, he scores
Those nuns… what whores!
you’re going to hell
quickly I can tell
riding on a black dress
landing in a fecal mess
I might very well end up visiting Satan
But most likely from excessive masturbatin’
you’ll meet him crosseyed
but he’ll be too
don’t worry about your visit
Trent will be there too…. 😉
I look forward to seeing him once I expire
He’s saving me a seat, right by the fire
I can see you two playing scrabble
or checkers or maybe chess
you’ve both been horribly ornery
have made a wicked wicked mess
so once you’re there, make friends fast
you’ll need a good daddy if you’re gonna last
You underestimate us at this point
In a month we will be running the joint
that I can clearly see
the poor devil won’t know what to do
he’ll be overcome by nonsense and fear
you two will be there year after year
I don’t even have a good retort
we are turning hell into a fun resort
my bad
you’re had
due to a tad
bit mad
’nuff said
I’m dead
Melted my head
I’m off to bed
I’ll be floating on a cloud, naked, en mass
I am legion… I am en mass! Awesome.
Unless you were just calling me fat in French… then forget it.
Shards would never do that! She is way too polite, fat man.
I am not fat. I wasn’t really even that fat before I lost the 50 pounds.
It’s okay. I have never seen you in person. And you may be quite skinny. But in reality – you are fat, my friend. Or is that phat? I never quite get it right.
Me neither.
Great. We have something in common – we are both tragically unhip.
Sure… now…
you as a fat little cherub! lmao
I may have to Photoshop that.
lol
Tear up my gig ticket and break out the backstage pass
A little long, but I like the whole metaphorical party after death vibe.
Thanks. I just thought of another one just now, I’ll pop it on there.
You may fire when ready, Gridley!
I plan to skid out on my arse.
Now that totally works for me!!!
Reblogged this on Trent Lewin and commented:
All right friends. Contribute if you can. I will give mad props to those who are actually funnier than me. Then I will come after you. Mercilessly.
I don’t have a nut wrench, and the bowel movement I bought was a P!
You can get help for that. Trust me.
where? the hardware store? Ace is the MAN with the helpful hand!
Oh boy…
oh boy? No joy. Didn’t rhyme… not sublime
Well pull my ear and immerse my penis in brine
For apparently I have committed a terrible crime
We have been hung out to dry
Left swinging in the breeze
Whilst girls with snippers
Dance between our knees
thats what she said
sigh
Shards!
Better than lard!
Funnier than bards!
But sucks at cards.
Trent
you’re spent
now shut up
and go grow a tent
Shards I have regained my mojo
And admit heartily to being a bozo
But that time of year thou mayst in me behold
We get a little weird when it’s always cold
And where is our precious Art with his wit and swagger?
Did someone finally dispatch him with a dagger?
It was not I, cries Trent with a great shout
The beaver army at my back ready to pounce
I sense a mystery here that needs to be met
This is likely a job for my feces-slinging monkey pet
I can’t play anymore… my family is gathering… for a momentous event… I need to help with things…
Family first my friend.
if you hadn’t spent all your energy in bed
you wouldn’t need a monkey to sling poo at his head
your army is formed hiding behind your behind
don’t bend over in the cold, for once be kind
Arts hanging around, maybe dangling a bit too
but not for long, his bits aren’t important to you
Rhonda’s tired of his non stop sack-ro-lidge
and getting a ziplock baggie to tuck ’em in the fridge!
ha
If you need help, I think you’ll see
That Trent will help you personally
Trent is a man amongst men and boys
Who has a delightful selection of helpful toys
His time is effective and really quite cheap
But prepare to drool and possibly bleat
That sounds a little gay
I am forced to say
Not that there’s anything wrong with that
But where are you sticking that cat in the hat
The cat in the hat is getting a marvellous ride
He is curled up in a savory spot deep inside
But don’t worry about him or the nun
They’re one big movement away from seeing the sun
sweet
I forgot… it’s rhyming day… what a stupid game to play…
Oh my God why am I wasting time on this useless trash?
That don’t rhyme 🙂
Say whaaaat?
Ha…
You just blew my mind.
That’s all I ever wanted.
It’s nice to have goals.
Do you mean “foals” by any chance? I like foals.
Me too… but no… I didn’t.
In which case I have no idea where this is headed. I’m hoping you do. Enough comments yet, or what? My fingers are getting tired. Must be the rash.
I could move on to the next important thing in my life, yeah.
Ah. Best of luck with that. Like really, as though we have anything better to do…
You got me there.
Please bring ointment for this scaly rash?
I knew you would get to the rash sooner or later.
More like it got to me.
Good point.
That’s actually sort of a sore spot. If you take my meaning.
I think I do.
I was afraid you might.
Me too.
Suck it grandpa and keep the sheep?
Now you are just reaching.
That’s kind of dirty.
Depends where you are reaching I guess.
And what tools might be involved.
A nut wrench… ha!
OUCH! That hurt!
What did you expect.
Something other than a nut wrench? Is that too much to ask?
Obviously.
Trent will steal your website and your delicious bass?
It’s salmon…
No. It’s definitely Napoleon Dynamite.
Your dam is diverting your flow.
Vote for Pedro?
Jose can you see.
Are you like the only guy at school who has a moustache? Please download Napoleon Dynamite and watch it. Prepare to be… something.
I will never be something!
Napoleon says otherwise. Please get a bike and make a ramp. Try to do a wicked jump.
I did that when I was kid.
It’s better after you’ve had some time to cure.
I bet it isn’t.
Wooka wooka wooka – so so sash?
Succotash? Flabbergast? Bangers and mash? Gravitas?
Stop making up words.
I will let you in on a secret… they are all made up.
Quanto-kay?
That was a quanto leap.
I don’t think we’re speaking the same language here.
Not even English.
An alien stole my donkey – alas!
That happened to me, and it is no laughing matter.
I understand. Sorry, don’t mean to be unsympathetic. Just being a dumb-ass.
Wait… was that the last line to the poem? Because it’s a little long, but it does rhyme.
Just trying to work in the alien donkey actually. You seem to have some experience with such critters, so I thought I’d toss it in – for free no less. It really does pay to shop at Trent Lewin’s Word Emporium. The discounts are awesome but the service is a little naughty.
I bought a vowel movement there.
You are consonantly a source of amusement.
It’s a gift.
Maybe this puss-filled wart will pop at last?
Now you are just making me nervous.
Imagine how I must feel…
Many is the long, cold night where I lay awake, feverishly imagining how you must feel……… ha….
Now that’s just mean. I just had a virtual wart pop – have some sympathy already.
I had some… it was delicious…
Your culinary standards are very low. And likely illegal.
And your point is?
Still sore?
It was a wrenching experience.
Thanks for hammering that home.
Nailed it!
I think you may have some screws loose.
Best straight line in history… it boggles the mind…
You have got to stop doing that to yourself. It’s definitely unhealthy.
You are talking?
Whaddya mean? I haven’t said a word in hours.
I can hear you thinking.
That’s mega-creeeeeepieeeee. But be careful. This may be a two-way street. Admittedly strewn with garbage and littered with homeless turtles, but I’m pretty sure that’s a faded yellow line down the middle nonetheless.
Teenage mutant homeless turtles???
Please don’t make light of a genuine social problem. Mutant turtles are people too you know. Just like nuns.
bwahahaha I give this one a 10!
Shards – I adore you.
sick and twisted ’til the end….lol
………….
You are such a dirty dog
stop cruising for chicks inside my blog
Shards is a chick I most greatly admire
She is actually a hobbit fresh from the Shire
Yes, she is short and a little bit furry
But she is never ever even a little surly
And mostly she is into wizards and middle earth ass
And last I saw you were clearly no Legolas
I am not elfin forest hider
I always considered myself to be Strider
Before he had to hang around with kings
And live in a palace and other things
Living a life of constant danger
As a roaming, noble ranger
As a fellow blogger deeply concerned for your health
Please stop making poetry about elfs
I just follow where other lead
Occasionally I end up treed
This place is all class…
I am not hairy
although I’ve been call Sasquatch
my x husband used to love
to forage for daily and catch…
but you’ll never catch me in a thong
made of diapers and pins
and you’ll thank God for this
cause nobody wins!
I thank you for your lack of thong
I find those garments to be just wrong
To walk around with an eternal wedgie
Is like a steak made all of veggie
I also thank me for no thong
strung up like a ham is toothepickin’ wrong
I’d rather go free and easy breezy
just stay way back if I’m a bit sneezy
A string up there, it just ain’t right
It would make me feel too uptight
If someone gave me a wedgie just for a laugh
It might cut me right in half
a piece of string and two tiny patches
doesn’t cover up any of my hatches
so I make sure not to have any holes
anywhere you might find a few moles
seeing what I wear you’d likely sieze
but I always enjoy an ocean breeze
its freeing and covers up where I went
masking that horrible fishing scent
Full coverage at eleven
As long as you cover the doorway to heaven
oh no, don’t go near that skirt
you’ll die of thirst in that desert
nothing can survive the rolling dunes
the dry and echoing canyons of lunes
I can not promise that I wont do it
All it need is a river to run right through it
not one in sight for miles
give up, these are dried up piles
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
The rains will come when they must
we need a monsoon
its been way too dry
hopefully by noon
a flood will try
It never rains but it pours
He shoots, he scores
I’ll have to go to Jesus class.
That is so existential.
Please cover my erection – fast!
Hey, if I die like that I might as well let the world know…
I agree. And remember, size is irrelevant. Just trying to be nice…
Size is irreverent!
That’s what she said.
Who… the naughty Nun???
Wait. There’s a nun????? Hang on, I’ll grab the olive oil and a wad of newspaper.
ummm……
That’s what she said.
uh uh
That’s what he said?
No he didn’t.
Are you sure? And don’t call me No.
Doctor No?
Doctor Who?
Nurse What?
I’ll have nun of that.
You say that now.
I can’t argue with that statement.
Then I win.
Your blog, your rules. What do you win? I’m not actually sure anyone wins on this one.
Let it be on a Yoda-shaped cloud of burning hash?
I like the imagery and the idea better than the actual poetry.
Jesus – there was poetry there?
Mary and Joseph, there sure was, and sure and it’s a livin’ saint you’re after bein’, so top o’ the mornin’ to ya.
Apparently you misunderstood my comment to infer that I was directing it to Jesus. Now that I think about it…
Not that again…
Well. He did sort of have a knack for coming back.
True.
PS. This is a great idea.
I have those now and then.
We are so fortunate that you do.
Life would still go on.
But it would not be quite so entertaining, would it?
I hope not.
Let me be sitting on the lap of a lovely lass?
Getting warmer… HA!!!
Warmer? I don’t even know her!
To know her is to shove her.
Um. Homie don’t roll that way.
Good for Homie.
Beware a sudden expulsion of gas?
They should do that while I’m still alive…
You could be a form of renewable energy. Kind of like pigs and salmon streams… see how I worked in the salmon?
I want to be re-knowable energy… see how I worked in my self-absorption there?
It’s painfully clear.
It has to be… that’s how it works.
I’m sure I will be totally gassed?
Just so you know, some of these poems will have easy to rhyme words, and some wont.
I can’t do better than “be sure to scratch and sniff my ass”. All props to the hiddinsight person.
It is good to know when things don’t need to be improved.
Be sure to scratch and sniff my ass
Okay, if you’re into that… HA! Oh… wait… I get it… that’s the line… phew!
phew? Are you calling me stinky?
I don’t know, I haven’t done the scratch and sniff test yet.
How about I save you the time: It can’t smell good.
It might.
Not likely.
You never know.
All you haters can kiss my ass
HA! That is exactly the one that I wrote in my head!
Great minds think alike, obviously 🙂
Not many words rhyme with pass. I though about “Cremate my body so I’ll be gas,” but that ain’t very poetical and I couldn’t figure out how to get “passing gas” to work at the end. Surely someone else will offer a solution…
I hope so, but I like the way you think.
Have a huge wake and break out the grass!
Now we are getting somewhere!
Sex in the nursing home, grass at the wake- Free Bird, man.
We need to design a line of Victoria’s Secret support garments and adult diapers.
You are advertising a million dollar idea!
I do that all the time.
Sexy support stockings… not-so-sensible shoes… But I can’t figure out how to make an adult diaper into a thong without causing a mess.
You’ll have to create a thong look- there will be the usual little colored triangle at the top of the back the full coverage in a flesh color- it can work.
This is getting way into creepytown.
you can all just kiss my ass