All the numbers that I just copied,
Say “This info furnished to the IRS.”
That’s so nice and easy.
The Feds don’t have to guess.
If they have the info already,
And they design the forms to fill.
Why don’t they just do our taxes?
Then just send us out our bill.
Weekends should be restful.
A time to recharge and relax.
This weekend, my schedule is not.
I have mentoring, a funeral,
A birthday party and more mentoring.
Plus, homework and taxes.
Can’t I just go to work instead?
Someone once said that
The two most common elements
Were hydrogen and stupidity.
This person did not have a Chihuahua.
If he had, the phrase would have been
The top three elements, and the
Most prevalent of all would have been
lovely, shedding Chihuahua hair.
I went to Peoria, Illinois on business.
It was far away from hearth and home.
I had my computers and my clothes,
And in my suitcase, Chihuahua hair.
My wife is having a midlife crisis.
She dyed her hair purple and blue.
The crisis was just a cover story.
She just wants to know which hair is hers.
If my wife had replaced Neil Armstrong,
The quote for history would have been
“That’s one small step for man …
Dammit! Where is all this hair from?”
Really?
Do you need to ask?
Editor’s Note: This is from a non-scientific study, but results are interesting.
Dogs sleep 19 hours a day (or so.)
They’re really not very active at all.
They will show up for all mealtimes,
Or sometimes, just to catch a ball.
So, eighty percent per day asleep,
A vast amount of total time spent,
Yet, when I take a one-hour nap,
That hour will be in the twenty percent.
A grandmother wants control of her title.
Choosing what she is called seems vital.
Some will never be “Grams” or “Granny.”
They want to be called “MomPlus” or “Sammy.”
Grandfathers don’t really seem to care.
Since we get called random terms here and there.
I have been “Grandpa”, “Papa”, “Grampy”, so to speak.
All of those were just in the past week.
Next time, I’ll have another name.
I will probably have myself to blame.
I said my name was King Frank-Bob.
We’ll see if that’s accepted by the mob.
I answer to the term my grandkids choose,
Either good or bad, win or lose.
Call me a saint or call me a sinner.
Just don’t call Grandpa late for dinner.
I will see a mansion on a hill.
I wish my house remained there still.
Some unnamed Yuppie came to town.
He bought my house and tore it down.
I haven’t lived in it for years,
Which doesn’t seem to stop the tears.
It was the place where I grew up.
It sheltered me, my Mom and Dad and pup.
I knew someday it would be gone.
I just didn’t want to play along.
I wanted to be able to just drive by,
And see it standing beneath the sky.
Yesterday, it was an empty lot.
It’s now a place that time forgot.
I will miss my happy (former) home.
Now, I’m feeling even more alone.
I know that everything must die.
I just hoped to see my past survive.
I understand that times will change.
I just thought my past remained the same.
I’m sleepy.
Every night,
Another hour lost.
This is why you
Can’t go home again.
Still, sleepy beats
Jet-lagged.
Coffee doesn’t fix
Jet-lagged.
Floating out at sea,
Searching every deck,
Exploring every corner.
Seeking out the Poop Deck,
Damn Furosemide.
My name is Bob,
And I’m a can.
Just an aluminum tube,
That distributes stuff.
I’ve carried good beer
To Germany and Australia,
I’ve carried weak beer
All over the USA.
I took sweet tea to Raliegh,
I took wine to San Jose.
I took soda everywhere.
So, lots of good contents
Went to lots of places.
It’s basically the same job,
But adapted to changing needs.
But my new bosses hate recycling.
They’re allergic to all old cans.
They only want new aluminum,
And they like imported, not domestic.
So, I’ve been trashed.
Kicked to the curb.
I can still carry things,
But I’m not good enough anymore.
It was fun while it lasted.
I just don’t understand.
If your customers are in the USA,
Why are your cans in India?
Almost broke again.
I look a bit green.
The only thing paying off
Is the soda machine.