You need a newer browser.

02/16/26   
We love the ‘80s

The Visitors

by Eli Snaubertzen
bio/email
December 10, 2001
Snooty bugle-playing burglars
Why do you bother me?
Go to hell, you naked buglers
Cease your melody.

Who invited uncooked hamhocks
All these pigs I see?
Go away, freeloading pork pies
Get out my Christmas tree.

Get out Santa, get out Elvis
Get out Sandra Dee.
I don't recall inviting anyone
To share my ginger tea.

Mister Walrus, Miss November
Tell me did you see
A sign hung from my door that said
"Please come and bother me"?

Were my windows not shut tightly?
Did my door not lock?
Was the hint too vague and subtle,
When I threw that rock?

Go on, get out! Every last shrew!
Every last motorcycle cop!
And I will surely lose my patience
Unless those bongos stop!

Clear out my house! Get out the door!
Leave my city block!
Don't come back here even if
You forgot your sock!

No more mastiffs, no more lawyers,
No more mimes or cows
No more microbes selling Amway
Leave and I mean Now!

What now? What's that?
No, my pills ran out.
Goodness, you're right, call the doctor!
Thank you, Mr Trout.


Quote of the Day
“Be always on the phone, so that when the devil calls, he will get your voicemail.”

-St. Jerry
Fortune 500 Cookie
Just because you don't like the message, don't waste your time killing the messenger. John of Lancaster already took care of that for you 500 years ago. New scientific breakthroughs now make it possible to wash your hair while it's still attached to your head: no more tedious cutting and re-attaching with naval knots. Try to remember: Chex are for breakfast, checks are for paying bills. You will mix those up again this week. This week's lucky dogs: Lassie's offspring still living off residuals, all Irish breeds, and the two-legged one-balled variety.


Try again later.
Top Missing Work Excuses
1.Challenger Flashback
2.Too Fucked Up on Meth
3.It's Pretty Outside
4.Thought it Was Nuked
5.Didn't Really Miss It That Much
Archives
Distraction
Fifteen phantom penpoints All under my control I move them deftly, swiftly smearing ink upon a single slice of paper. Sixteen sweatered titties Distracting me so simply from my fifteen phantom penpoints Nothing worthwhile written, once... (11/26/01)

Shuns
Who has been flushing your worldly possessions? Replacing your wardrobe with out-of-date fashions? Making your schnauzer do Nixon impressions? Squeezing your neighbors for seedy confessions? Coating your lips with pre-cancerious lesions? ... (11/12/01)

The Waistland
April be the month that's meaner Than a shot of carburetor cleaner Or an icy, uncooked wiener Said the raven: "Ned's a Whore". "Ain't my lookout," said the genie, in a voice so tiny, teeny Ned thought it a baby, beanie And burned down the... (10/29/01)

more