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10/3/26   
Draw, huckleberry

Popular Road

by Sampson L. Hartwig
bio/email
February 7, 2005
I rode a horse on a winding path
And saw before me, though I'm bad at math
The path became two roads ahead
One rocky and coarse, a bitch to tread

The safer course, apparent to sight
Was clean-cut and easy, a porridge "just right"
With either path my choice to choose
I took the path less apt to bruise

Yes, I took the road well-traveled
And my seams kept sewn, my sweater stayed raveled
My shoes suffered no pain or remorse
Nor did my steed—just ask my horse



Sure, it was crowded, and baked by the sun
And assholes surrounded by whole metric ton
Paved by cruelty and sadness and greed
And it smelled like someone had been toking weed

Maybe I got there two hours later
And missed the buffet of free steak and taters
But anything's better than being some jerk
Who brags about taking the path of more work


Quote of the Day
“My love is like a red, red wiiiine… go to my heaaaad… make me forgeeet… Wait. Sorry. My love is like a red, red rose… just like eeeeevery night has its daaaaaw- awawaaaan… Just like eeeevery cooowboy… Fuck.”

-A.D.Dobbs
Fortune 500 Cookie
Clowns don't hate you, they just feel sorry for you. Your "Don't Worry, Be Slappy" series of self-help books finally broke the five-copy sales barrier this week, and just got you sued by the estate of Slappy White. This week's lucky strikes: Clover-Workers' Union, ump didn't see ball careen off batter's jock and through strike zone, killed them all while they were dreaming about killing you, threw your ex-wife's severed head down lane on accident.


Try again later.
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