1 down 11 to go

31 drawings
And poems to match
End of the month brings
Us to the next batch
I hope you’ve enjoyed
This challenge so far
If you’ve been annoyed
I’ll say au revoir


And she went adios

There was an old man from Cayucos
Who never had sex, but he came close
A chick was willing
To do some drilling
But his derrick was too grandiose


Hawk haiku

Sitting on a pole
Hawk tightens his grasp on crow
One dies while one dines


I draw better than Rob Liefeld

Never ask a comic book fan
If Thanos could kill Superman
Is Quicksilver as fast as Flash?
Don’t make me angry or “Hulk smash!”
Fate or Strange – who’s the best doctor?
Could Wonder Woman beat up Thor?
Does MJ love Peter Parker?
Could Batman get any darker?
Is Jordan the best Green Lantern?
Can Human Torch get a sunburn?
Nerds and geeks adore these topics
That’s what sells so many comics


We don’t need roads

The Road Not Taken
By Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


Stole my whole damn face!

If I listen to
Truckin’, U.S. Blues,
Deal or Morning Dew
Happiness ensues
If I feel hateful
Jerry and the rest
Make me so grateful
Because they’re the best.



The once was a man from Nipomo
Who drove to the village of Pismo
He looked at a clam
And shouted “Hot Damn!”
And wondered why this made his dick grow.


I do this everyday

Have you ever taken a lunch ride?
That’s when you get in your car and hide
For sixty minutes from the bullshit
That is work, because you want to quit
But you can’t, so you do this to cope
With a job that has stomped on your hope.


Do centaurs go neigh?

It’s cloudy today
The sky is all gray
Rain is on the way
So, inside I’ll stay
And Guild Wars I’ll play
The goal is to slay
Mobs of easy prey
And bake a souffle
Believe it or nay


Pope Hip Hop II

If Sean can be Diddy
And Curtis is Fiddy
Then they’ll both have to cope
That I call myself Pope
I can’t rap worth a shit
But they’ll have to admit
I can rhyme like the Game
Yet my drawings are lame


That’s my dream

Why should a racist jerk
Enjoy this holiday?
Shouldn’t they have to work
To honor MLK?


Noah blew it!

The Unicorn
By Shel Silverstein

A long time ago, when the earth was green
And there was more kinds of animals than you’ve ever seen,
And they run around free while the world was bein’ born,
And the lovliest of all was the Unicorn.
There was green alligators and long-neck geese.
There was humpy bumpy camels and chimpanzees.
There was catsandratsandelephants, but sure as you’re born
The lovliest of all was the Unicorn.
But the Lord seen some sinnin’, and it caused him pain.
He says, “Stand back, I’m gonna make it rain.”
He says, “Hey Brother Noah, I’ll tell ya whatcha do.
Go and build me a floatin’ zoo.
And you take two alligators and a couple of geese,
Two humpy bumpy camels and two chimpanzees.
Take two catsandratsandelephants, but sure as you’re born
Noah, don’t you forget my Unicorn.”
Now Noah was there, he answered the callin’
And he finished up the ark just as the rain was fallin’. He marched in the animals two by two,
And he called out as they went through,
“Hey Lord, I got your two alligators adn your couple of geese,
Your humpy bumpy camels and your chimpanzees.
Got your catsandratsandelephants — but Lord, I’m so forlorn
‘Cause I just don’t see no Unicorn.”
Ol’ Noah looked out through the drivin’ rain
But the Unicorns were hidin’, playin’ silly games.
They were kickin’ and splashin’ in the misty morn,
Oh them silly Unicorn.
The the goat started goatin’, and the snake started snakin’,
The elephant started elephantin’, and the boat started shaking’.
The mouse started squeakin’, and the lion started roarin’,
And everyone’s abourd but the Unicorn.
I mean the green alligators and the long-neck geese,
The humpy bumpy camels and the chimpanzees.
Noah cried, “Close the door ’cause the rain is pourin’–
And we just can’t wait for them Unicorn.”
Then the ark started movin’, and it drifted with the tide,
And the Unicorns looked up from the rock and cried.
And the water come up and sort of floated them away–
That’s why you’ve never seen a Unicorn to this day.
You’ll see a lot of alligators and a whole mess of geese.
You’ll see humpy bumpy camels and lots of chimpanzees.
You’ll see catsandratsandelephants, but sure as you’re born
You’re never gonna see no Unicorn


#1 reason we live here

We walked 4 miles along a river bed
We saw bunnies and hawks and an eagle
Where we walked today, few have even tread
We have so much fun, it should be illegal


Is that why I’m balding?

The power went out
We all scream and shout
The reason we rave?
We should have hit save!


Did she fake with him?

Te’o had a fake girlfriend
Is it so bad to pretend?
I wonder what’s the big deal
So what if she wasn’t real?
Don’t condemn his phony broad
When he still believes in god


Even the logo was full of ’em!

It started while watching Bewitched.
Was thrown when the Darrins were switched.
Samantha had some magic tricks.
None better than doubling of Dicks.
Dick Sargent filled in for Dick York.
But Darrin was still a big dork.
So much phallus as evidence.
Obsession or coincidence?
Last fact to stuff the ballot box,
Dick Sargent’s birth name was Dick Cox!


Like it’s never happened to you

If you can’t trust a fart
Be prepared for a shart
Give your ass cheeks a squeeze
Or find fudge in undies
To the bathroom you streak
To prevent a brown leak
You leap onto the bowl
And applaud your control


Why do they do that?

Cat puke on the new carpet
It’s not there when I come back
Did Raven nom on vomit?
When I think of that I yack


Snicker snacks are my favorite y’all!

By Lewis Carroll

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought —
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.


Only 346 days until Xmas

It’s time for the lights to come down
This time of year, lessens the cheer
And turns my smile into a frown


New adventure

I have some sharpies in hand
And a composition book
Mixing rhyme and sticks is grand
So pretty please take a look.


I put it on my pancakes

Why does cough syrup taste so gross?
Perhaps to prevent overdose?
When it’s on my tongue, I’m morose
No other yucky meds come close


Limerick me right there

There once was a couple from Lompoc
Who hiked up a hill by a scrub oak
They played in the sun
And had lot’s of fun
Then finished their day with a nice poke


Haiku pour vous

Two sweater puppies
Skirt clings to curvy butt
Tightness in my pants


7 pounds in 7 days!

Don’t wait
To lose weight
Get sick
And lose quick


There are strange things done in the midnight sun.

The Cremation of Sam McGee
By Robert W. Service

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam ’round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he’d often say in his homely way that “he’d sooner live in hell.”

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see;
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and “Cap,” says he, “I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I’m asking that you won’t refuse my last request.”

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
“It’s the cursèd cold, and it’s got right hold till I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet ’tain’t being dead—it’s my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you’ll cremate my last remains.”

A pal’s last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: “You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you to cremate those last remains.”

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows— O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the “Alice May.”
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then “Here,” said I, with a sudden cry, “is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked”; … then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.


2013 is sick

Sick still
Friggin’ flu
Do detest
Being blue
Chilly chest
Pop pill


You suck!

It’s Friday, and I’m sick, yet I’m here at work
There’s not much to do, and I want to leave here
Inevitably someone acts like a jerk
Last minute orders; I want to disappear.


I <3 @monkeecat68

Last night I sounded like a lion roaring
It must have seemed like you were on safari
My head cold caused some cacophonous snoring
You were up all night and for that I’m sorry



A man from the County of Orange
Tried rhyming some colors like silver
Writing his opus
He found his rhythm
But nothing would sound just like purple.


West Wing

Seeing Martin Sheen
While playing a slot machine
Means that 2013
Will be peachy keen.

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