This has been sitting as a draft in my posts for years. It's time that it saw the light of day.

Oh, Sarah Please

Oh, Sarah Please

Run for President

I need a good, long laugh

Oh, Sarah Please

Run for President

Did anybody ever tell you

You look like the back side of a Giraffe

Oh, Sarah Please

Run for President

It has been such a long time

Oh, Sarah Please

Run for President

Katie has been waiting patiently in line.

Ode to The Three Stooges or GO MAVS!

The Three Stooges came into town but they couldn't take the Heat
Now they're choking on failure and defeat.

Now they will be the ones left cryin'
Now that they're Championships dreams are a dyin'.

The battle cry says 'wait tell next year'
But I can already see we have nothin' to fear.

The Three Stooges came to town and got shut down
Just like all those years in Cleveland he was a let-down

Now that The Three Stooges are done
We all know the real champs won.

Knock down the door

Oh, it's the feeling you get down below
Oh, it's the feeling of someone knocking at the back door
But you're out-and-about and can't let them in
People mistakin' that look on your face for a happy grin
God, I hope I never have this feeling again

So knock down the door and flip up the lid
Better sit down real quick
People knockin' to be let in
They can wait, time to bring back my happy grin

Oh, it's been so long on this lonesome road
Time to pull over find a tree
Them bushes could use some pee
Cars zippin' by like a streak of light
Hope this Cleavland steamer doesn't put up a fight

So knock down the door and flip up the lid

Better sit down real quick

People knockin' to be let in

They can wait, time to bring back my happy grin

Finally home what can I do?

I know someone up stairs who has been missin' my poo

So knock down the door and flip up the lid

Better sit down real quick

People knockin' to be let in

They can wait, time to bring back my happy grin

No, Sir, Not Me

If there is one thing that I never, ever wanted, considering my sizable fame and fortune, is to be is a politician. I am well known, after all, my material has gone un-published on many-a bathroom wall across the country. But still, even with all my fame and fortune and ignoring the fact that because of said fame and fortune I could easily rise to the highest echelons in the political arena, I simply have no desire too.

I don't know why I had the sudden need to put that out there? Maybe it was because I forgot my pen this morning while visiting the office and thus had some extra time to think about...stuff. Or maybe it's because the next election cycle is revving up and I just felt the need to let all my devoted followers out there know how stupid politics is? 

Politicians are notorious for not getting things done, or at the very least getting it done at a snails pace, and that is not what we need these days. Although I must say the new guy is a breath of fresh air compared to the other guy.

Here is a poem for you politicians out there looking to strike it rich next election day:

I turn on the TV to your lying face

You make me ashamed to be part of the human race

And now you want my money, my vote, and more

Even when we both know you are looking to get rich

By making the rest of us poor.

So this year when election time comes

I'll be sitting home snacking on my Tums.

The Second Coming

I know that there are at least two of you, possibly less, that have been coming here diligently for the past two and half years, awaiting for my return. Of those two, maybe less, one might think it's coincidence that I made my triumphant return only days before many believe Judgment Day is supposed to happen. No, I'm not saying that I am Jesus coming back to Earth to save my devoted followers and live life-eternal in Heaven...at least I don't think I am? But now that I think about it it is funny that I consider this blog to be a kind of positive re-enforcement meant to heal the wounds of the world and bring all of humanity into the light...O.M.G, I am Jesus!

I got to go, I need to write this down on a bathroom wall somewhere.

Swirly

The swirling water reflecting the crescent Moon

Don't be afraid when you hear the sonic boom

It is a sound that came from a heart felt place

Can't think of a word that rhymes except for mace

But a teary eye is to be expected

Now flush and life won't be so hectic.

-Toilet Bowl

Pee

Too Pee

Is to me

A way

To be free.

-Toilet Bowl

Fart

A fart

Is the start

Of a dart

Through the heart.

-Toilet Bowl

Eventually I plan on having quites from various poems that I have come across over the years from bathroom walls across the land - I may have invented the art, a fact that I am very proud of, but I am not vain about it. I do rather enjoy the commentary that I have read on many-a bathroom wall. If you take away the ones that are there for no other reason then to drop the f-bomb or to rip on an ex-girlfriend or ex-wife, then you are left with some pretty good stuff! So....

Flush the toilet
and slam down the lid
Pull up your britches
never mind the skid
Pull out a pen
and leave a note
Ryme it like P-Diddy
Make it dope

Broken Heart

So I bet you thought that I had died, or something like that? I wouldn’t blame you for thinking that, after two months of writing I up and disappeared. The truth is that I was doing a stretch up in Sing-Sing. For those of you who have no idea what the f-ing hell I am talking about – and that is probably most of you, since that joke was not very well constructed, but it was the best I could come up with under the circumstances – Sing-Sing is my little way of saying that for the past eight months or so I have been having to endure a prison of sorts; a prison that we have all – or least most of us - have visited at one time or another in our lives, willingly I might add. You guessed it – marriage!

It happens every now and again, even to the best of us. Like many poor saps and incurable romantic, I lost control of my senses and fell head-over-heel for some dame that said all the right things and had a nice rack. Before I knew what the hell was happening my tighty-whities were sharing their drawer space with a butterfly-embroidered friends made out of silk. Worse yet, my bathroom was transformed into a pink monstrosity, almost like a Flamingo had some how found it’s way in there one morning and then just exploded – pink frilly things landing on the toilet-seat cover and around the kleen-nex box and on the floor mat in front of the shower. My voice on the answering machine was also replaced by that of a women who proclaimed, giggly that “you have reached Sarah’s house, leave a message and I will get back to you as soon possible, tootles – hehehe.”

That was my first clue that my single story 1000 sq. ft. area that I once called home was mine no longer. My next clue would come when I came home and found my DVD collection – Aliens, Terminator, Battlestar Gallactica. . . Three’s Company, replaced with the complete series of Murder She Wrote and The Ultimate Collection of TV’s Golden Years: 1950’s – 60’s.” The last and final clue would be when I, again coming home, would find my house completely gutted – no furniture, no TV, no paintings on the wall, only divorce papers dropped carelessly on the floor for me to sign.

When all was said and done my wallet got a few hundred dollars lighter each month, but I did get to keep the house, and the TV and wife that I used to come home to each and every night was replaced by a two-gallon fish tank and a single gold fish which died last Thursday because I forgot to feed it.

That’s the story of my life there in one single sentence.

The lesson to be learned here, kiddies, marriage doesn’t work – for me it didn’t work the first time around or the second and it certainly didn’t work the fourth time around.

And yes, Sarah is her real name, not that you will have any idea who she is by such a simple and common name like Sarah, but if you ever shack up with a women with eyes as blue as glacial ice and skin a smooth as a freshly blown snow drift and with a heart just as cold, it might be her. The only warm part of our brief time together was her hair; the color of the sun after a long days drift across the sky and the warmth that it brought just before it set.

If I will miss anything it will be her hair, but that’s it – her hair.

Work will resume around here Monday with some new material.