Thursday, November 17, 2016

Adios, MF

Pack up all your left wing crap
While Donald takes his victory lap
Bye bye, Granny
Your future just became your past...
And I'm so glad to see the last
Of your fat fanny
Good luck with your upcoming expedition
To a country that won't honor extradition
Do not weep and do not wail
Just be glad you're not in jail
Granny, bye bye!

Friday, March 25, 2016

Old Bill C

I queried Bill 'bout his sordid past
"What sort of gal do you like?", I asked.
Intellectual types, or those who sport?
Do you like them tall or love them short?
Do you prefer them silent, or verbose?
Bill said: "I like them comatose."

Sunday, March 6, 2016

A Day at the Laundromat

Oh hi me hence to the laundromat
bearing many a malodorous sock
As oftimes a shepherd would boldly go
To the babbling brook where clear waters flow
With a line of woolly beasts in tow
(or sometimes formed up in a row)
Which comprised his caprinaerious flock

A football jersey, meant for sports
relegated now to work
A dozen holed and yellowed shorts
which in the corner lurk
Some threadbare jeans and and faded tees
A brace of sweatpants lacking knees
And a woolen sweater, rife with fleas
I finds I must transports

As manly heart anticipates the finding of a laundromat queen
Perhaps a Vida Guerra clone
Or Jennifer Lawrence all alone
Or Charlotte McKinney, sans cell phone*
But it doesn't seem to be my day, none such are here, I ween.

When it comes to laundromatic love it seems I am shit out of luck,
For the only lass who toils within
Sports globular frame and trebular chin
And more body hair than Rin Tin Tin
Much like Rosanne bar with a silly grin, had her face impacted a truck.

*So she can't call for help.

Saturday, October 10, 2015

This load is definitely ready for the dryer


Hi ho for a day at the Laundromat, it's one of my favorite sports!
No wondering where the yellow went, it's there in my threadbare shorts.
My holy socks turn the water dark, and my whitish clothes as well,
I doubt that they ever do get clean but at least they no longer smell.

I spend the drying time hitting on the hot chick from Guatermeller,
But who is the dude with the machete blade, he seems quite an irritable feller?



Hey, calm down Bud how am I to know that the hot chick is your wife?
No need for thuggery, mayhem and gore nor all other forms of strife!

Well. In all my years at the laundromat I've learned to wash out mud.
Food stains and paint and litter box taint, and now I can tackle blood.
When next I visit the laundromat I'll leave Guatemalan chicks alone
Cause the blood I must wash from my tattered clothes?
All of it is my own.

Saturday, August 8, 2015


Man where does the time go?

Already, the fourth, yes I said FOURTH annual Best Butts in Buttzville Festival is hard upon us. All day and night, Saturday August 28th the sidewalks, streets, parks and by-ways of Buttzville will throng with resplendent rumps, puissant posteriors, gargantuan glutes, bodacious booties, titanic tushies and all around great asses!

Do not miss this world famous event!






Make your plans and buy your tickets, Best Butts in Buttzville comes but once a year!

Sunday, July 5, 2015

An Afternoon at Gannet Hill Park

What did ye see at Gannet, Janet,
Down there in the hollow?
A big old balding eagle, Janet?
Or was it just a swallow?
What saw you there, beneath the tree
When the little hand was on the three,
And the big right hand was on your knee?
And what consequence did follow?

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Prepare to Board!