…and then some

Posts tagged “randomness

Random Poetry

I’m really not sure what to say
For the first “Random Poetry” today
But I’m sure I’ll find a way
To get it done anyway

I’m trying to come up with a creative post
Y’know, the kind that people kinda like the most
Something I can be proud of, but not so I can boast
So far my posts are as entertaining as cheese toast

Cheese toast is actually really pretty great
I like it with garlic, and served on a plate
Making it is fun, but I sure hate the wait
If I were a fish, you could use cheese toast as bait

Lucky for me, I’m not really a fish
Otherwise I might be served on a dish
With tartar sauce made from mayo and relish
No matter the case, I’m sure I’d be delish.

I guess this will be my last stanza
You might as well go watch reruns of Bonanza
Or Seinfeld, the show featuring George Costanza
Just make it a syndicate rerun extravaganza


Random Mobile Photo Post

Do you think it’s weird that i took this picture while sitting on the toilet? Haha…


Random Mobile Photo Post

So tough on stains, it must be made from a mother’s spit.


Brainstream

Hard earned cash and a box of stinky cheese.  Virus alert!  What’s in my pocket?  It’s a bag of chips.  I don’t understand what gives a cent.  Happy to be here, though not so trying.  The unified district of official poop.  How’s your mom?  I don’t get it.  What’s a story like me supposed to eat a pencil… when?

Lovely and a bored triumph.  Eats a hog, but never again in my life.  Don’t be a menace in the pool of lollipops.  I didn’t think a marker of phone cords stamping with the mouse of nothing and a sack of acorns.  MONKEYS!

Oooh, it’s a zombie of desktop wallpaper and a three eights inch duck.  Lots of ducks, actually, since diamonds are biting me in the fingernails.  I’m not sure I understand.  Do you hear what I hear?  Speak of the devil, it’s a mouse pad!  Wait a minute, don’t 72 the orange crayons.

Phony calls of monstrous disaster.  I believe i can fly, but nevertheless and hithertoo therefore whence begone the blorch.  I hear a lot of messin’ around!  Try another website.  Tons of stuff about Abraham Lincoln logs.  Logitech equipment.  Flatulance and a spatula for the win!!

Put yours in there.  Did you know?  Tell us about it.  No, oh no.  Yes, we have a queen.  You can’t print, you guys.  Gonna make some copies.  What did you need help with?  Who are you doing?  I think I’m a clone now.

Envelopes and office space.  Magazines and dairy.

What do you see when you look at this?  Are you afraid?  Draft saved!  Please read the accompanying stuff.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  Scurry, flinch, sniff… repeat.  All teachers return.  Shortcut to New Setup.  Role as first lady.  Pfft.

All hail the pansies!  Except for Joel.  Boink!  What’s in a name of not letters to the editor?  Some professional development is making a sound like chalk on a spiral staircase to heaven.  Drinking with the president on weekends and staying out late talking to aliens can have a negative impact on your constitutional marriage.

Forks, sporks and seven spoons ago.  I have seen the pursuit of happiness, and it looks like Chewbacca.


Feed the Children… To the Sharks (revisited)

Once upon a time there was a mustard with three legs and a bad habit.  Underneath his house lived a piece of furniture we all like to refer to as “George” and the pelicans always make us laugh.  “Green fur!”, exclaimed the platypus with covered eyelids.  I saw how tired the air was, with nothing left to spoil but my feet and a bag of dried onions.  Can we possibly tell what might cough louder than a mongoose?  “Left of the tree?” asked the dwarf. “Left of the tree?”

I googled a mushroom cloud before Thursday and the safety restraints went ‘boink’ all over again.  It occurred to me that every button on every lizard is made of glass, and should one be seen as fluoride, I might just correct myself.  Nonetheless, we sit like doves on a floating lawnmower.

“WHY CAN’T WE JUST EAT THE BLUE JESUS!?” he complained, shaking his fists and throwing birdseed at the passing vehicles.  Nobody thought his thumbnails would amount to such a fine young lad, with a ladder made of pasta and nothing to look forward to.  Henceforth and hitherto with the flakey bakes all a flutter, and it all happened at once.  Thus.

Last week I went to a conference and wouldn’t ya know it, Santa Clause made the best macaroni & cheese salad I’ve ever wiped my butt with.  “Fancy a tiny spoon made of wood chips?” asked the old man with three arms and a neck longer than Kentucky.  Nobody responded, probably because the room was filled with colored streamers and a giant goldfish named “Bobby”.  Florida has one, I believe… and so does Frank.  It doesn’t matter, really.  Ever since the the Giant Potato Scare of 1937, my ankles haven’t been the same.

One day you will be like me, swimming across the window panes and waving “goodbye” to Auntie Anne as she sings the Lacrosse Lullabye to a miniature horse affectionately referred to as “Poop”.  Until the ducks pass, you’ll be no more than a twelve inch subwoofer with a collar.  Come back later.  It might do you some good to eat chili dogs with the president.