how about a poem contest? they have to be short and funny to make you smile and wind away the hours between trippies.
THIS IS WHY FEB IS CRAP
there once was a man who was exceptionally bitter
and he liked wind and rain and freezing temperature
he got satisfaction watching other peoples misery
and when he died god made him the boss of febuary
so if mr febuary is getting you down
wrap up warm and take a stroll into town
go to the bank and take out a ridiculous loan
and piss off to somewhere nice and hot on your own
mr febuary will be pulling out all his white hair
cos youll be lording it on a beach somewhere
and dont worry about bank manager bill
just pass the debt on to your relatives in your will
Ode to People Who Leave Work at 4:30
It woudn't be so bad,
if you hadn't come in at 9:30,
or if you didn't take 2 hours for lunch,
or if you hadn't spent an hour in the hallway
talking about your kid's potty-training schedule,
or if you didn't make the same mistake on every project,
or if you got off the phone long enough to actually see -
once and for all -
that "thought" requires a "g" in the middle
like I wrote on the mock-up
and now I see
you've stuck the bloody thing
between the "o" and the "u".
Rant about only one glass of wine left:
Oh woe is me
The bottle is empty
The offy is shut
The glass is slowly emptying
There is no wine left
Oh woe is me
Once upon a time in Illinois
there was a girl and there was a boy
who couldn't stand the thought of snow
so they decided to move to Buffalo
They should have know it snows there too
but were blinded by the snowplow's ooze
of melting white stuff thrown their way
and they are in it up to their asses...
You all seem a bit glum,
sitting on your bum.
The computer monitor glow-
making you feel low?
Get up off your ass,
pour a drink in a glass,
drop down your pants,
and have a little fun!
pause for dramatic effect
Da dum dum!
an ode to robert kilroy silk
kilroy! kilroy! your perfect white hair!
the king of all things domestic despair!
lets have a fight on daytime tv!
lets all watch and join the melancholy!
because your show has shown quite clearly
that like the chavs who have marital rows on your settee
that any kind of relationship is doomed from the start
argument, sadness; a form of art
reserved for shows like eastenders and yours
where sadness is like a drug available for
anyone who accidentally watches a clip
of something that seems curious like
"today; a woman who has sex with her bike!
her husband barry is about to find out!
WILL HE KICK HER OUT?"
and so you smile as robert kilroy silk
the nice man off telly, hair white as milk
offers you a taster of his nice tv show
with his fatherly hair all white as snow
But you, robert kilroy sneak
pretending to be democratic and meek
are like a thug, a crook, a stealer
if depression was crack cocaine, you are the dealer
you let us have a bit; you get us hooked,
and we watch and watch and before we know
were entranced and arguing along with your show
hair as white as snow
hypnotised by the despair,
unable to tear
- then, free...
the adverts... when we realise
its easier to be unhappy than happy
and easier to argue than to get along
but in the knowledege that kilroy silk
is a metaphorical crack dealer punk
we can break free, and know that hes is wrong
were not depressed, we were fine all along
kick the habit; kick kilroy silk-
in the face
nice and hard.
Sitting in work
Wondering what to do
I know l'll surf on TP
And then pop off to the loo!
i need to massage my brain with consistant to do's
but time drags on and work is work
i wish i had a genie to whisk me off someplace today
or a time traveling machine that will do as i say
i realize now that i am not a poet
there is no ryme to my maddness only TP to ease the day.
he he. i tried.
I dedicate this to my work in Northern Alberta:
O sweet ironey,
how doth thee tempt they soul.
Vile temptress that shall be named Work.
For not great trial did I brave the GreyHound,
through misfortune and misadventure.
Waking before the Day Star in attempt to catch my privey.
Ye dids't make my flight to the Mc of the Mac's. I hailed ye old
taksi cab for non of Komex bee's could attend. I travelled the concrete expanse of McMac to arrive to where I was to meet.
Upon entering the dwelling a harsh ring could be heard aloft,
the peircing sounds of the telemaphone penetrated my inner ear.
Whom ever couldest it be? For it was Tannis,
Bee of Work.
Concluding a breif but sorrowful message I infact was not
to be picked up at the condo of Mac. Nay! For I was to have
my leave to wait. To wait.
I am to wait doth the sound early morrow for my ride.
O sweet ironey, and temptress of evil,
why not let thy original Day of Sun be my travel?
Why not let thy days of rest and revelry be complete?
Why not let thy Day of Sat be filled with joyous eating
and Nintendo playing.
O sweet life, you suck me dry of my will.
Worry not, for now I spend my eve in the hallow pit that is McMac.
I hail more of the cabs taksi and find my way to a new abode.
I shall lie in wait 'til morrow's light for the truck of Work to beckon.
I bid you adu.
Brendan O'Brien of the Clan O'Brien.
Its the weekend - yippee
No work for me
Just potter about the house all day
Then meet the girls for tea