{"id":4226,"date":"2021-11-29T14:42:18","date_gmt":"2021-11-29T22:42:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/?p=4226"},"modified":"2021-11-29T14:42:18","modified_gmt":"2021-11-29T22:42:18","slug":"211129","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/2021\/11\/29\/211129\/","title":{"rendered":"211129"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><img decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone\" src=\"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/images\/2021\/211129.jpg\" \/><\/p>\n<p>211129<br \/>\nI even checked my butthole<\/p>\n<p>I have a thing I cannot find<br \/>\nI think I&#8217;ve gone and lost my mind<br \/>\nThere was a time I had it here<br \/>\nBut it&#8217;s been gone at least a year<br \/>\nI&#8217;ve checked the closets and the drawers<br \/>\nI&#8217;ve checked the ceilings and the floors<br \/>\nMy mind is not inside my head<br \/>\nNor is it hiding &#8216;neath the bed<br \/>\nI&#8217;ve looked outside and under there<br \/>\nI just made you say underwear<br \/>\nI&#8217;ve searched around the potted plants<br \/>\nAnd in the pockets of my pants<br \/>\nMy Irish friends just laughed I swear<br \/>\n&#8216;Cause pants to them mean underwear<br \/>\nI really hope it&#8217;s just misplaced<br \/>\nA mind&#8217;s an awful thing to waste<br \/>\nBut if it&#8217;s gone, I will be fine<br \/>\nAs long as one thing&#8217;s always mine<br \/>\nI must keep it at any cost<br \/>\nMy sense of humor can&#8217;t be lost<\/p>\n<button id=\"listenButton1\" class=\"responsivevoice-button\" type=\"button\" value=\"Play\" title=\"ResponsiveVoice Tap to Start\/Stop Speech\"><span>&#128266; Listen to Poem<\/span><\/button>\n        <script>\n            listenButton1.onclick = function(){\n                if(responsiveVoice.isPlaying()){\n                    responsiveVoice.cancel();\n                }else{\n                    responsiveVoice.speak(\"211129 I even checked my butthole I have a thing I cannot find I think I\\'ve gone and lost my mind There was a time I had it here But it\\'s been gone at least a year I\\'ve checked the closets and the drawers I\\'ve checked the ceilings and the floors My mind is not inside my head Nor is it hiding \\'neath the bed I\\'ve looked outside and under there I just made you say underwear I\\'ve searched around the potted plants And in the pockets of my pants My Irish friends just laughed I swear \\'Cause pants to them mean underwear I really hope it\\'s just misplaced A mind\\'s an awful thing to waste But if it\\'s gone, I will be fine As long as one thing\\'s always mine I must keep it at any cost My sense of humor can\\'t be lost\", \"UK English Female\");\n                }\n            };\n        <\/script>\n    \n\n<div class=\"twitter-share\"><a href=\"https:\/\/twitter.com\/intent\/tweet?via=stickpersonpoet\" class=\"twitter-share-button\">Tweet<\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>211129 I even checked my butthole I have a thing I cannot find I think I&#8217;ve gone and lost my mind There was a time I had it here But it&#8217;s been gone at least a year I&#8217;ve checked the closets and the drawers I&#8217;ve checked the ceilings and the floors My mind is not &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/2021\/11\/29\/211129\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">211129<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[46,47,74,115,72,29,98,76],"class_list":["post-4226","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-rhymes","tag-bed","tag-calendars","tag-crazy","tag-deep-thoughts","tag-home","tag-ireland","tag-run","tag-time"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4226"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4226"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4226\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4227,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4226\/revisions\/4227"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4226"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4226"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4226"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}