MOBLEYC57
01-22-2005, 10:24 AM
HOW WOMANTIC!
Entries to a newspaper competition asking for a rhyme with the most romantic first line, and
the least romantic second line.
Love may be beautiful, love may be bliss
But I only slept with you because I was pissed.
I thought that I could love no other
Until, that is, I met your brother.
Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you.
But the roses are wilting, the violets are dead, the sugar bowl's empty, and so is your head.
Of loving beauty you float with grace
If only you could hide your face.
Kind, intelligent, loving and hot
This describes everything you are not.
I want to feel your sweet embrace
But don't take that paper bag off of your face.
I love your smile, your face, and your eyes
Damn, I'm good at telling lies!
My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife
Marrying you screwed up my life.
I see your face when I am dreaming.
That's why I always wake up screaming.
My love, you take my breath away.
What have you stepped in to smell this way.
My feelings for you no words can tell,
Except for maybe "go to hell!"
What inspired this amorous rhyme?
Two parts vodka, one part lime
THE TAX POEM
Tax his land, tax his wage,
Tax his bed in which he lays.
Tax his tractor, tax his mule,
Teach him taxes is the rule.
Tax his cow, tax his goat,
Tax his pants, tax his coat.
Tax his ties, tax his shirts,
Tax his work, tax his dirt.
Tax his chew, tax his smoke,
Teach him taxes are no joke.
Tax his car, tax his ass,
Tax the roads he must pass.
Tax his tobacco, tax his drink,
Tax him if he tries to think.
Tax his booze, tax his beers,
If he cries, tax his tears.
Tax his bills, tax his gas,
Tax his notes, tax his cash.
Tax him good and let him know
That after taxes, he has no dough.
If he hollers, tax him more,
Tax him until he's good and sore.
Tax his coffin, tax his grave,
Tax the sod in which he lays.
Put these words upon his tomb,
"Taxes drove me to my doom!"
And when he's gone, we won't relax,
We'll still be after the inheritance TAX.
IRS WARNING!
PLEASE READ IMMEDIATELY!
THIS IS SERIOUS!
If you get an envelope from a company called the Internal Revenue Service," DO NOT OPEN IT! This group operates a scam around this time every year. Their letter claims that you owe them money, which they will take and use to pay for the operation of essential functions of the United States government. This is untrue! The money the IRS collects is used to fund various inefficient and pointless social engineering projects. This organization has ties to another shady outfit called the Social Security Administration, who claim to take money from your regular paychecks and save it for your retirement. In truth, the SSA uses the money to pay for the same misguided make-work projects the IRS helps mastermind. These scam artists have bilked honest, hard working Americans out of billions of dollars. Don't be among them!
A CRACKHEAD MAKES A POINT: They say that guns don’t kill people, people kill people. Well I think the gun helps.If you just stood there and yelled BANG, I don't think you'd kill too many people. -- Eddie Izzard
Entries to a newspaper competition asking for a rhyme with the most romantic first line, and
the least romantic second line.
Love may be beautiful, love may be bliss
But I only slept with you because I was pissed.
I thought that I could love no other
Until, that is, I met your brother.
Roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you.
But the roses are wilting, the violets are dead, the sugar bowl's empty, and so is your head.
Of loving beauty you float with grace
If only you could hide your face.
Kind, intelligent, loving and hot
This describes everything you are not.
I want to feel your sweet embrace
But don't take that paper bag off of your face.
I love your smile, your face, and your eyes
Damn, I'm good at telling lies!
My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife
Marrying you screwed up my life.
I see your face when I am dreaming.
That's why I always wake up screaming.
My love, you take my breath away.
What have you stepped in to smell this way.
My feelings for you no words can tell,
Except for maybe "go to hell!"
What inspired this amorous rhyme?
Two parts vodka, one part lime
THE TAX POEM
Tax his land, tax his wage,
Tax his bed in which he lays.
Tax his tractor, tax his mule,
Teach him taxes is the rule.
Tax his cow, tax his goat,
Tax his pants, tax his coat.
Tax his ties, tax his shirts,
Tax his work, tax his dirt.
Tax his chew, tax his smoke,
Teach him taxes are no joke.
Tax his car, tax his ass,
Tax the roads he must pass.
Tax his tobacco, tax his drink,
Tax him if he tries to think.
Tax his booze, tax his beers,
If he cries, tax his tears.
Tax his bills, tax his gas,
Tax his notes, tax his cash.
Tax him good and let him know
That after taxes, he has no dough.
If he hollers, tax him more,
Tax him until he's good and sore.
Tax his coffin, tax his grave,
Tax the sod in which he lays.
Put these words upon his tomb,
"Taxes drove me to my doom!"
And when he's gone, we won't relax,
We'll still be after the inheritance TAX.
IRS WARNING!
PLEASE READ IMMEDIATELY!
THIS IS SERIOUS!
If you get an envelope from a company called the Internal Revenue Service," DO NOT OPEN IT! This group operates a scam around this time every year. Their letter claims that you owe them money, which they will take and use to pay for the operation of essential functions of the United States government. This is untrue! The money the IRS collects is used to fund various inefficient and pointless social engineering projects. This organization has ties to another shady outfit called the Social Security Administration, who claim to take money from your regular paychecks and save it for your retirement. In truth, the SSA uses the money to pay for the same misguided make-work projects the IRS helps mastermind. These scam artists have bilked honest, hard working Americans out of billions of dollars. Don't be among them!
A CRACKHEAD MAKES A POINT: They say that guns don’t kill people, people kill people. Well I think the gun helps.If you just stood there and yelled BANG, I don't think you'd kill too many people. -- Eddie Izzard