The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Archive for the ‘Du Jour of the Week’ Category

De Jour of the Week (1/4/10)

1/4/10

Boise State and TCU and … poetry! What a night!

My Supreme Intellect

I can tell by my supreme intellect that you’re mad at me,
I can tell because your middle finger is held up so clearly.

Aha, once again my might brain comes to my rescue
I can guesstimate with some amount of confidence that I’ve just had a miscue
When you asked me ‘do I look fat in these jeans?’ that was my cue
And I think my choice of saying, “did you seriously just ask me that?” and then laughing was a choice I’ll rue.

Once again my mind is hard at work –
I knew something was bothering you the second you stopped swearing and foaming at the mouth and finished your rant with the word ‘jerk.’

My mind is wonderous, wonderful, and wondering
When will my phone ring?
Sure, I broke the ice by saying I liked your wedding ring,
But I just felt like we really had something …
I’m waiting for your call with baited breath my ho-on-the-side darling.
But my intelligence tells me it may not work – that slap did sting.

Here is an educated guess
It was a faux paus when I said, “kiss more, talk less.”

I’m even good at logical deductions
I’ve learned from experience that fortune cookies are hardly cookies, and even less so fortunes
Still, I shouldn’t have taken yours and said ‘you could do with smaller portions.’

Even though I don’t know you, I am thinking you’re miffed,
Could it be because when I cut you off I barely missed?

I’m no less than gifted at learning by observing patterns
From experience I know that I should listen to your concerns
And not respond by saying “blah blah blah” (last time you threatened to feed me your parents’ urns).
(And the time before that I learned just how hot hot chocolate really is … fyi, it really, really burns.)

Yes, my supreme intellect is something to be marveled
But please, resist temptation, I hate being ogled.

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De Jour of the Week (12/27/09)

12/27/09

I read this to my mom and she said “that’s scary.” And I said, “why’s that scary?” (I was going for funny, not fear.) Her response ended up making her “that’s scary” statement make SOME sense – but I honestly can’t remember it. Besides, who doesn’t love a good mystery?

Please Don’t Contradict Me When I’m so Clearly Wrong

Please don’t contradict me when I’m so clearly wrong
Just nod your head, say ‘mmhmm’, and play along

I’ve had a long day and I’ve thrown logic out the window
And if I say I want ice cream for dinner you say ‘let’s go’

I’ve mixed this up with that other thing
Don’t point out my error while smiling, grinning, smirking

You know darn well what I meant
Don’t point out the facts, your time could be much better spent

But don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m wrong often
I’m not, this is a hypothetical poem for that situation that’s if/when

In fact, now that I start to think about it – you’re wrong!
Who is so dumb as to not know by now to play along?
Sure, yes, I’m so clearly wrong
But you could’ve, should’ve, WILL HAVE TO learn to play along

Why aren’t you nodding your head and playing along?
CLEARLY I am once again spewing out falsehoods, fuzzy logic and all other things wrong

You’re smart at work, you’re smart at home – but maybe a little too smart
One plus one can equal three if I want it to, I know it in my heart

You remember that time I came home fuming and said ‘my boss is a jerk’?
And you said ‘well dear, last week you said your boss is the best part of your work?’
I mean really, honestly, your obliviousness was cute when it was a quirk
But if you don’t get with the program I’ll drop the q-u and it’ll just be an irk

Ok fine … I admit it … I’m sommmmmmmetimes wrong
And … I’d appreciate it if you could play along

I know your knowledge and corrections I should probably embrace
But honestly, I’d rather punch you in the face

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De Jour of the Week (12/20/09)

12/20/09

I wrote this a while ago (right after my parents’ visit in early October) so I want to go ahead and use it.

My parents were in town (sort of, we were more in San Francisco, and as part of the trip we wanted to do some good tourist activities. One of these activities was a visit to the De Young Museum, located in Golden Gate Park.

The main exhibit we went to see was a traveling one about King Tut.

Yes, the King Tut. You may have heard about him from Steve Martin.

Going through the exhibit I noticed a lot of things – how amazingly well kept a number of items were that were buried with King Tut (3200 years old!), the amount of effort and money that went into making these items, a cute girl going through the exhibit (I told her, “I’d like to explore your exhibit,” she said, “I’d rather be embalmed.”), a woman looking at the exhibit while holding the leash of her guide dog (that seriously happened – think about how little sense that makes), and the following phrase mentioned several times to explain items: ‘cosmic cow.’

Just what is the cosmic cow? Well … you look it up. (I tried and couldn’t find anything, but it really was there, it was mentioned in the Book of the Dead or some sort of cool sounding thing like that.)

If I’d seen something about a cow mentioned in the Book of the Dead I would’ve thought, ‘whatever, everyone digs a good burger.’ But a cosmic cow? You can’t eat that! It’s cosmic, man!

It got me thinking, though, what other common things would sound much more impressive by adding the word cosmic? This is a short list of just such things:

Cosmic Monkey (they’re adorrrrabllllle!)

Cosmic Ass Hole (you know the type)

Cosmic Diarrhea (side effect? Cosmic shame – and that’s a lot of shame)

Cosmic Erectile Dysfunction Disorder (no comment)

Cosmic Pimp (Looks good on a business card)

Cosmic Hangover (this makes you puke so much you puke childhood memories)

Cosmic Booty Call (tra la la, baby)

Cosmic Booty Call (don’t get me started)

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