When I'm feeling particularly deep, I pull out a pen and write poetry. Tonight, I wrote when I DIDN'T feel particularly deep. Hey, at least it's a post.
Three movements in the key of dumb:
---
Whether she laughed because she farted,
Or farted because she laughed,
One came from her bow,
The other from her aft.
---
Sally made the bed one day
And in it, she found fleece.
And that's the only way she knew
That Sam was screwing sheeps.
---
"How large do you normally grow 'em?" Jane asked
The cucumber farmer through the fence.
"You'll find them just right for a salad," he said,
"But too small to use in a biblical sense."
---
I should keep my day job.
7 comments:
Wow.
Mary had a little lamb, it ran into a pylon. 2 million volts shot up its ass and turned its fleece to nylon.
Just going with the whole fleece thing.
Ooop--there's the phone. Gotta go.
::Hallooo, oui?::
No. Don't give up your day job but you MUST moonlight doing poetry. These are brilliant, Dave! Still chuckling here, which means in about 30 seconds I'll need the toity. Let's see if I can't put one out in that length of time.
Mary had a big ol' ram
and screwed him till it stung
The next day she could hardly walk
'cause boy that ram was hung!
Sometimes? I sicken myself.
I am impressed! Very valiant effort. Seriously, you might just have the knack there :)
Hope you have great weekend.
Truly inspring, Dave. Now you need to use your magical voice, record them, and post them here. I would appreciate that.
I am dying to actually hear your voice sometime, assuming I haven't already heard it somewhere.
Have you ever posted an audio anywhere?
What do you mean those weren't deep?
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