Beneath Many Layers

There have been many very good days in my life; like the time I got out of paying traffic tickets by using the “Ghost Cop Defense”, and the day they started putting nipples on mannequins. Those were good days alright but yesterday was a better than good day, it was an awesome day, a Mad Magazine Super Spectacular Day for two reasons.

1- The Republican Party no longer controls both houses of Congress. Sure they control the executive branch and the Supreme Court is packed with conservatives but don’t rain on the parade, this is progress. Plus, Donald “The Devils Sidekick” Rumsfeld has resigned. The smart people are rejecting the Bush/GOP agenda (although here in California we re-elected the co star of Jingle All the Way). Now let’s hope the Democrats don’t blow it.

2- I met the Slackmistress last night. I’m not sure that I can describe her in a way that does her justice, because she’s just delightful. For a while I have read her site and been aware of her through the internet but that doesn’t come close to painting the picture. Imagine for a second that you’re a kid again and it’s a holiday. In the morning you see a big present with your name on it but you can’t open it until it gets dark so you wait all day and wonder what it could be. Well if when you open the present it’s everything you wanted and more, your present would be the Slackmistress.

Last night we discussed the important things in life: Crime, committing crimes, dating criminals, murders and attempted murder, dogs and bad poetry. I made a promise to write an awful teen angst style poem for her so here goes:

Early and in an empty room
I watch SportsCenter with the sound off.
Will she get here?
I hope she gets here.
The Knicks are going to be terrible this year.

She makes it on time.
I thought I was prepared for her,
I’ve seen pictures and glanced at the text.
In person it’s a whole lot of hot charming.
She’s smiles and eyes and boots

Tell me about your family, your job
and where you went to school.
Tell me that you know what it feels like too
and before you say goodnight
Tell me we’ll do this again.

This dear reader is likely the first and last time you’ll ever see poems here. There’s areason why we were discussing bad poems but it goes many layers of joke deep so I won’t bore you with the details, but it’s as hillarious as the Slack is hot.

Also I promised her a creepy version of the bad poem so here it is:

Seeing you is better when I don’t have to use binoculars.
I don’t need a reason to be on your street when you invite me.
You look wonderful,
like when you went to the gym yesterday
Restraining order is such a harsh word.

Tell me all about you
And I’ll pretend I haven’t heard it
From the private investigator
I hired to show you I care.
Why must you keep me at a distance
Of at least 500 feet away?


1 Comment

Filed under General Tomfoolery

One response to “

  1. My ex-boyfriend once wrote me a poem in which he said his brain was like so much overcooked oatmeal.

    I like yours better.

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