The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘Du Jour of the Week’

De Jour of the Week (1/28/10)

1/28/10

McDonald’s at my desk + constant document reading = this poem.

Acro-Maniac!

Hi, hello, how are you! – it’s my first day
This is my background, how bout the weather here … this is all I say
“Here’s some reading material, have fun figuring it out, mmmk?”

Sure boss, no problem, I’ll hop right on it
With my determination and desire to succeed I am equipped
I’ll give it the old college try and these documents will soon be whipped.

Wait, what’s that acronym mean?
Whatever the hell they’re talking about is TBR, TBD (it remains to be seen)
Am I supposed to remember all this? I’m not a machine.

A list, my list, and what a list
I’ll keep track of all the acronyms so nothing will be missed
But with each new entry the list goes from scary, to scarier, to scariest

Soon I’ll become some sort of acro-maniac
Which is sort of like a brainiac
But a very limited one because it’s mostly a painiac-in-the-neckiac

And, what’s more, it’s ruining my personal life, and that’s no lie
A girl walked by, she smiled and said “hi”
And all i thought was ‘Hawaii? high integration? hypervelocity impact?’, meanwhile the female goes bye-bye.

Alphabet soup in a bowl is delicious
Alphabet soup on a page is malicious
And my ‘uhs’ and ‘ums’ are getting vicious.

So don’t mind me, the new guy, sitting in my cube and having a cow
With my worried eyes, wrecked brain, and a ten foot scowl
What!, free cookies in the break room!?! I feel better now.

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Du Jour of the Week

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De Jour of the Week (1/20/10)

1/20/10

There will be more of these … later.

Just so you know, future me (i.e. the person who will find this most interesting and I’m writing this to remember it), I saw a few apartments today in Houston. One of them bordered a wildlife preserve. While taking the tour we went up to the fence – separating the apartments from the preserve – and there was a wild hog hanging out. Why wouldn’t there be?

A bit later my mom and I were driving around and we saw a sign that said, “Don’t Feed the Alligators – $500 fine.”

Oh boy!

If Tones Could Talk – Anger

Oh what have I just said
The room is suddenly ice, I’m dead.

Whatever I said wrong, I was joking
I take it back! I call my right to revoking.

You’ve just said my name, and slowwwwwlyyyyy
And now you’re staring past me/at me/through me.

That tone was all things threatening
My collar I’m loosening
My hands are sweating
My nervous laugh is too nervous to laugh, it’s gone into hiding
My lips I’m biting
My … my … my you’re intimidating.

Maybe you want dinner? Flowers? Candy?
(I’m looking around you to make sure there’s nothing heavy and throwable handy.)

My what a powerful word my name can be
When you say it so delicately/angrily/slowly.

I’m supposed to respond
You’re waiting for me to respond
Ok. Here we go. I’m going to respond.

“Um …”
Well, that was dumb.

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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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