The Insomnia of Ransom Ripple
by Ulysses P. Crackbutter 

Ransom Ripple’s twisted nipples
kept him from his sleep.
The night was long,
as Ransom’s thong
straight up his ass would creep.

An incessant dripping
at his ears was nipping,
as it echoed from the sink.
“This noisy room
will be my doom!”
was all that he could think.

The words to a song,
like a clanging gong,
rang and jiggled his brain.
“This tune will be
the death of me!”
he was heard to complain.

He counted sheep,
then counted Jeep,
then counted jellybeans.
But then he remembered
once being dismembered…
“I wonder what that means?”

Ransom Ripple’s toe was crippled
and he had to pee.
His nose did whistle
like an incoming missile,
And he thought “God please kill me!”

But just when he’d conceded
that he’d get no sleep that he needed,
and resigned himself to silently weep…
the strangest thing happened.

He dropped off into a nap and
dreamt that he couldn’t fall asleep.

Nature
Lovely limping little lepers like to lick my Dr Pepper. Lice feel nice as honey-nuts buzz right up a buzzard’s butt.

Waiter!
A ball bearing wearing ranch dressing blessing Blanche’s wedding? Upsetting,” Ted grieved as he weaved his sleeve.

What Holds It All Together
I’m careful with my stapler-- I use it when I have to, but I try not to be wasteful, lest the staples disappear.