I’m on the edge.
I’m on the edge of the middle.
It’s a constant food crusade.
I eat Doritos from the wrong end.
Eating them the hard way isn’t necessarily bad.
Real men eat Doritos the hard way.
Real men aren’t afraid of a challenge.
Real men blah blah blah.
My jokes aren’t funny.
When I perform them for people nobody laughs.
While I smile no one snickers, not even a grin.
I wrote a story that I thought was creative.
It was boring and the plot didn’t make sense.
I wrote a screenplay that I thought was hilarious.
I showed it to an actor who was perfect for the lead.
He dropped it in the shredder.
I gave a presentation.
A few people looked at their watches, others slept.
I wrote a poem. I thought it was clever.
My husband got mad when I recited it.
I was standing in front of the television
And my poem didn’t rhyme.
WHY did I write this crap????
English Pd 6
I never knew you could do that with an ordinary paper clip! I watched in amazement as Julia bent the silver paper clip and shaped it into a round globe. The globe actually resembled the eukaryotes we learned about in biology, but no one else seemed to notice. A moment later, Julia had bent the clip back into its normal shape and her audience cheered. What really surprised me was Julia’s putting it into a casket which she placed in her minivan. Oh well, spies will be spies. Her Eskimo dog, Frisker, jumped out and ran over to me, knocking me over. “You’re off sides,” the football ref called from a nearby field. Anyway, Julia was on a mission: to find a chunk of moldy blue cheese. She had to travel to Russia and disguise herself as a sumo wrestler. Her story was that she was lost. Okay. Well I don’t really understand the relevance. Spies must be from a different planet. I watched as Julia confidently walked to her car and drove to the airport.
There once was a blond spy named Julia,
Had to go empty the basurea.
Travels to Russia,
Hope the sumos don’t crusha,
A crazy life she lives, Julia.