CREEEEEPY!!

?

I dinint like eireish poetaetoes, but on the muddley Sunday midnoonish at the fairpark, the poetaetoes beckoned to me. It was all bubblyish and brownish, and I just had to have it. It seemed to have sum prefound meaning that my minsy human brain just could not underhend. Did you no that der eireish worship poetaetoes? Danny O’ Bryan (I just made him up) is eireish. Tinkle Tinkle.

a rambl n

Once upon a magical timera, in a wonderful place idealized in multiple B each B oys songs, there was a communist evile dictarobey, Who ruled a place called Californa. He did want walk to a magical fivendime store, andddddd he had a writing comeover. His name was not Roderick Bodman. He is very much a drug dealer (in a second life). One fine rainy day, he decided to… go back to sleep, for he decided that the day was rainy.

Jumpy Gyn

Jumpy Gyn wanted to be a cosmonaut (in case you didn’t know, that’s communist for astronaut). Not that Gyn was a commie, but she always thunk the Queen was up to no good. What a shame that Gyn was a trout fisher that worked the wilds of Detroit (the sewertrout are in season). One fine sewer trout midnoon, Gyn came upon the granddadafather of sewer troutmutants. Its name was Puffin, and there was no other puffin before this puffin, even though it wasn’t a puffin, its name was Puffin, thus inducing its puffiness. Gyn gazed up lovingly at Puffin’s multiple eye sockets, for Gyn thought moronically that Puffin would be her bestest friend for all eternity (Gyn didn’t have much of a social life). Quite unfortunetly, Puffin just had eye sockets, and gobbled up Gyn. And no, Gyn never became a cosmonaut (commie for astronaut.)

Ode to Gene Krupa

Thumpa Thumpa CRASH ratatatatatata Boom Takataka CRASH CRASH CRASH Thumpa Takatakataka CRASH Thumpa Boom Boom Tap Tap Tap CRASH Takataka ratatatatatata Thumpa Thumpa BOOM Thumpa CRASH CRASH BOOM tsk tsk tsk

Library Books

A library book is an old man in a rocker
Dusty and unattractive
Creaky and falling apart
But can tell stories for years

Yew

I apoligize for the following post. It was never intended to suck so much. If you have little tolerance for things that are executed badly, I advise you to leave the room. Thank you, good night.





...and good luck.

Editors Note

Dear reader: all of the previous writing and its authors should not be held liable for any fraudulent or faulty claims, in the fact that I am clearly stating that everybody in this blog except for Jessica Knudsen is not a real person, including Cinder Janet in section 4a. However, the author may or may not be liable for liabilidy claims, but you would have to find that out in court.



SUCKERS!

Black Hole Poetry pt.1 and 2

I am a black hole for poetry
When ideas come near me, they explode
I am a black hole for poetry
When people come near my poems, they explode

I am a blackhole for poetry
When ideas come through me, they come out mutated
Demented
I am a black hole for poetry
When people read my poems, them come out mutated
Demented

An Instance in Nevada

On the contrary to the popular belief that God does not exist, there was one time where a man was about to shoot another man in the head, when the bullet froze in midair, turned around, was about to hit the shooter, when it froze again, seemed to consider its options, turned upward, where it was about to hit a purple dove, until it curved to the right just in time, and was headed straight for an atheist pedestrian, where it penetrated the skull, and killed him instantly. It was all caught on a nearby security camera. Many religous scholars have concluded that God hates athiests, but they are challanged by others who say it was simply a possesed bullet that hated athiests. But the main question is: What was it possesed by? Most say it was Almighty Himself, where others say it was a peculiar pink jelly bean named Bob that rides in a golf cart. The world may never know.

Joe

Joe did not understand why he existed. When Joe went to the shrink, he said he was a pink hefalump. Joe did not know what a hefalump was, let alone pink hefalump, so he looked it up in the encyclpedia; it was not there. Then Joe was sad. He called his mother and asked her what a hefalump was. She said that Joe should read the childrens book Winnie the Pooh. Joe did not see why this would help. Then Joe went on google images, and all he could find were funny looking pink elephant type creatures. Joe thought this was too silly for him to be one. Joe was mad. Then Joe killed himself because he still did not understand why he existed.