He Who Laughs Last…

If followers become immersed,

In your witty yet subversive verse,

And decide they don’t like the tone,

(Or accidentally hit unsubscribe on their iPhone),

A situation arises most appalling,

As you watch those statistics falling,

And your conscious may prevent the release,

Of a controversial masterpiece.

You wonder who might get offended,

Or leave your page most discontented,

But I just say of those folk,

Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.

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We Talk

We talk about our children potty training,
We talk about what they eat,
We talk about our day at work,
And what was on TV.

We talk about refi rates,
And economy and wealth,
We talk about politics,
We talk about our health.

We talk about the weather,
And how we spent our morning,
And as we talk I wonder,
When did we get so boring?

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Smithson Syndrome

When I began blogging, Sean Smithson was one of my first followers. In fact, even when my blogs were absolute crap, and almost no one liked them, there was Sean Smithson, among the brave few, giving validation to my pathetic publications.

But who was this Sean Smithson? Some creepy stalker? Well perhaps…

But actually, it turns out Sean had a great blog of his own where he would write sordid accounts of his pathetic love life, steeped in humor and self deprecation. Well, the truth is, pathetic may be not quite a strong enough word to describe Sean’s love life. Perhaps, it might be better to say that reading his blog was a bit like watching a car crash, you know, the kind of thing where you want to turn away but you just can’t. And, in case you are not quite getting the jist, if there was a behavioral or personality disorder for people who simply did not have the dating gene, it would probably be called Smithson Syndrome.

Anyway, every time Sean published a blog, it seemed as if the entire blogging community would come out to read what new, horrifically embarrassing episode Sean was ready to unfold, while trying to top each other with clever comments, all under some sort of ruse that they would actually win a date with the author; although why anyone would want to earn this distinction is beyond me.

Recently Sean published a book, “How To Lose A Girl In 10 Ways”. To return Sean’s months of dedication to my blog, I swore I would be the first to read and review the book, but it seems that it was rather difficult for me to get my hands on it, so many other bloggers beat me to the punch. However, after reading much of the book, I was inspired to write a poem in Sean’s honor:

I heard he was smart and soft spoken,
And even a bit of a looker,
Maybe it’s the liquor but here’s the kicker,
He can’t even score with a hooker.
But saved by a sense of humor,
Of which many have an appreciation,
He turns into gold the stories he’s told,
While wallowing in self deprecation.
A subject he’s quite fond of,
And perhaps they were trying to kid,
When told in effect, he could write a book on the subject,
But that’s exactly what he did.
And though I always root for the underdog,
And have a strong appreciation,
A change in luck might totally suck,
For where would he get his inspiration?

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A classic tale of boy loses girl, boy loses girl, boy loses girl…this book rocks!

Read Sean’s blog here:

http://seansmithson.com/

Buy Sean’s book here:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00L5OU2CQ/theoffiinbe-21

https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/how-to-lose-a-girl-in-10-ways/id891641102?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

http://www.troubador.co.uk/book_info.asp?bookid=2657

Evil Eve In Eden

It was in the Garden of Eden,
That Eve lay in repose,
But no need to bring an apple in,
To make her feel the need for clothes.

The snake, let’s call him Dior,
To her did appear,
And said, “That nakedness is nice,
But face it, it’s so last year.

Your figure so athletic,
I’d say that it just begs,
For a pair of Jimmy Choos,
To elongate those legs.

And now just so your look,
Can live up to your dreams,
Here’s what every diva wants,
Some bootylicious jeans.

A glittery rhinestone belt,
To make your waist look tiny,”
At this Eve was mesmerized
Grabbed it and said “Shiny!”

And then along came Adam,
Eve said, “Hey there handsome,
No more sitting in this garden,
You’re taking me out dancing!

But you better put on some clothes,
And get yourself looking right,
After all I ain’t gonna stare,
At that thing all night!”

So Adam put on a wife beater,
Some boxer shorts that weren’t too sweaty,
Took in Eve’s disapproving stare,
And said “What? I’m ready!”

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http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/in-the-beginning/

The Agony And The Ecstasy of The DMV

Here I stand at the DMV,
And I must say it’s a sight to see,
That under the sickly glow of fluorescent light,
All people of the world unite.

To create a lovely vision,
Of every world, class and religion,
Ages range from young to old,
As if a rainbow might unfold.

And though a sense of community could be thriving,
Based on this common skill of driving,
The bond that holds us here is this,
We’re all completely fuckin’ pissed.

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The Inexplicable Drama Of Me

Lately I have come to see,
My life as reality TV,
Where they might cue in crickets because,
I said something worthy of a long, awkward pause.

Where in a grocery store the camera might pan,
To show the audience I’ve forgotten the jam,
And if I do something really dumb,
It will not be overcome,
But rather will be front page news,
In my friend’s private interviews.

And if there’s drama or commotion,
It will be replayed in slow motion,
And a very popular feature,
Rock n’ roll supermom vs. some poor teacher,
As the world waits on the edge of their seats,
To see the results when they tune in next week.

And though I’ll be a huge ignoramus,
It’s likely I’ll be rich and famous,
Write autobiographies and have fat paychecks coming,
Based on the fact that I’ve done nothing,
And get recognition from the academy,
For playing the jackass that is me.

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