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04/23/25   
We love the ‘80s

Wet the Ted

by Danson Macrane
bio/email
August 4, 2003
Loosely Ted did wet the bed,
though none of the
neighbors could hear.
Not even when Teddy,
his day wrecked already,
wet the pillow with one salty tear.

The bedroom was silent
while in calculations violent
Theodore did ponder his fate.
Then spirit intravenous
did stoke up his genius
as he realized it wasn't too late.

He dressed in a flurry
as to indicate the hurry
and gathered his bed in a sack.
Then sneaking outside,
for neighbors he spied
as he hoisted the sack on his back.

He dashed to his Jeep
with the soiled wet heap
and flung it in the back with an grunt.
As it dropped with a slosh
nearby Ethel cried "Gosh!"
and Ted thought "I don't like that lady."

He drove to a Cliff
whose brother was Biff
and asked them if they'd stash this mess.
Cliff said no way
but he'd get the so say
of a far-away sister named Tess.

Instead Ted drove to The Dump,
which is the name that some chump
had given the neighborhood bar.
They turned Ted away
so he called upon Ray
who owned an abandoned old car.

Ray was too picky
to get his vinyl sticky
but he told poor Ted what to do.
"Write an email with the heading
'Please Help with Wet Bedding'
and sent it out to five million and two."

So Ted penned the Spam,
which was soon forwarded to Sam,
a copper assigned to the case.
The cops seized Ted's belongings,
which did satisfy his longings:
the peed sheets were removed from his place.


Quote of the Day
“To dream the impossible dream… to really step on my own bottom lip while being smacked on the ass by Gary Busey riding a unicycle. Yes, this is quite impossible.”

-Don Key Hoyt
Fortune 500 Cookie
Read a book today: It's like bran for your head. Hate music? Buy J-Lo's new album and really feed that feeling. You'll finally get over that hump this Wednesday; that dog's never coming back to you anyway. You finally get your proof you're an American institution when six inmates escape from your ass. Lucky numbers are all square roots of –1.


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