Monday, February 20, 2017

Question: Peter Piper Pooped a Peck of Pickled Peppers.

Jesus. How many did he eat?


Because this question is one of the 'funny' ones, where I have to sit back and watch someone else make a joke at everyone's expense, allow me to divert my attention briefly.


I woke up to my alarm today, said aloud the newly-minted word 'ball-shit' then turned that fucker off and went back to sleep.


Now, to the task at hand.


It's funny that someone pooped, I'll give you that. But this isn't a question. Sometimes, not getting questions is okay, because they lead somewhere funny. In this case, the only thought I had, to embrace the setup, was to continue on with the poem. Problem is, this poem has the same words over and over again, leaving no room for jokes, just like the gargantuan width of my penis leaves no room for condoms. Sorry ladies; you're all pregnant. And this question is pregnant with lack of purpose and inspiration. Next time you want to replace a thing with poop, try your food. That's funny.


Short Answer: I don't mean to sound so harsh. I just get frustrated when inspiration doesn't come. So I'm blaming you. I think that's fair.

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