I was going to whinge about my lack of home internet, but that's gotten old. It's yesterday's news kids. And instead of sitting here thinking about how to structure (and then not proofread) a post on catapults as a perfectly viable method for transportation (which I'm sure they could be), I'm going to do a rhyme.
Because, you see...
Doing a rhyme,
Takes up so little time,
It's easy, you see...
Not like 13x14x3
You can make it up in your head,
Or make it up on a plate of red,
Whatever, I'm still tryings to recover,
From a drunken night with colleagues, I find it an amazing stat
That in a group of eleven not one potential lover.
Makes it easy to keep the rule,
Don't mix sex with work, nor with school.
I love silly poetry,
It amuses the crap out of me.
But sadly this one must end for I cannot countenance,
Staying awake much longer, this picture of awesomeness needs sleep maintenance.
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3 comments:
Damn. And here I am writing novels while sober...
Wasn't even drunk, just hangover. Sad.
You can check the local library
For a friend between the sheets
See your local shoe store
And check the size of feets
Trust the short blond in the mailroom
Not the cart girl but the bag
The ones most worth a shag
are the blind men with a blag
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