The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘Poem’

Let’s Hope it’s the Thought that Counts

It’s time for me to get you a gift

And it’d better be good if I don’t want a rift

But …

(A word for which I am such a glut)

What about that certain phrase

That we relied upon in younger days

Presenting to a parent a glob of paint

Which would then be praised like a patron saint

Now adulthood is here

(I say with a 3-weeks of vacation a year-sneer)

The glob of paint just won’t do

So now what am I supposed to get for you?

You’re beautiful, you’re wonderful, and I can’t hold you close enough

It’s just I don’t know how to say that with “stuff”

I promise I’ll try though

Until the point where I give up, grab something shiny and angrily say “geez like I know!”

There’s a chance you’ll see my gift and want to pounce

So let’s hope it’s the thought that counts

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Du Jour of the Week

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Attn: Ellen (9/14/11)

Front


Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

The text of the postcard is:

Dear Ellen,

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Kisses are sweet
HOLY FU**ING SH**
THERE’S A FU**ING
TIGER!! RUN!!!!!

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com

P.S. Awww!

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Attn: Ellen

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You Can’t Buy Happiness

I’m sitting in my room alone
So alone,
With my as-yet unreleased to the public smart phone.

I’m sitting on my couch alone
So alone,
Deciding which game to play of the many video games that I own.

I’m sitting in my bed so-so alone
So alone,
In my king-size bed with bazillion count sheets that were hand-sewn.

I’m sitting in my kitchen, you guessed it, alone
So alone,
I’m full of lobster and that cake is tempting me but first I’ll eat that scone.

I’m sitting in my luxury car so very alone
So alone,
With my foot on the pedal (tickets are chump change) I’m speeding through this low-speed-limit zone.

I’m sitting in, what room is this, have I been in here before?, alone
So alone,
This mansion was maybe too big for me – the fourteen bedroom villa I should’ve been shown.

I’m sitting in my yacht theoretically alone
So alone,
Minus the crew, and the chef, and the masseuses, my loneliness makes me groan.

Well I’m listening to someone with way more money than me say ‘you can’t buy happiness,’ and I feel alone
So alone,
Because yes, I can’t buy happiness, but at least you can try you marone.

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Du Jour of the Week

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