Sunday, July 23, 2006

A poem for the ages...

I can't believe I said I can't write poetry.....

This is a semiautobiographical diatribe in four stanzas and a tinkle.

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I appreciated your calves,
But now I think you're gay.
Don't put your diva-man hand up in my face
Just turn and walk away.

No sex in 312 months
(You, not me, I say).
I should've known right from the start,
You're motherfuckin' gay.

There's nothing wrong with that, you see
Nothing wrong at all.
But when it means a dry spell for me
It affects not one, but all.

So skip through flowers,
Tow the line,
Push some brown,
That's fine.
But I'll be boinking your best friend
Until the end of time.

(Or next week.)

8 comments:

  1. You're the shit. Is there a part 2?

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  2. brilliant!!

    good stuff.

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  3. that is great...

    reminds me of an inside joke but its a rhyme so its catchy: he's so gay gay gay in a metrosexual way way way!

    I would explain the joke but I could get busted by my metrosexual looking jackass.

    but your poem made me laugh my ass off!

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  4. excellent. I say we start our own greeting card line full of sarcasm and bitchery. ;) We could call it Snarkmark

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  5. LE, *bow*

    Blitch, I freakin' love that you made reference to your jackass. I love your jackass stories. And I'm glad someone appreciated the humor because I think I made 99% of the audience just a little uncomfortable.

    Amanda!! Snarkmark!!!! You're brilliant. Hurry, let's get things rolling. I don't wanna miss out on this money mine like I did with toe rings.

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  6. Twenty-six years without sex?

    Cool. I still have a ways to go to hit that mark.

    ReplyDelete

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