Pat Hatt's Blog, page 247
February 7, 2013
A Strange Pass Is Here As I Use Leer!
Have to wait and see who this could be!So for those that do not know the cat just went all Pokemon in the title today at my show. Leer is used to lower defense and all at that games hall. But sadly the cat doesn't even have to use that on some as they are just a tad umm dumb.
My password was cracked.
My computer was attacked.
Shouted some random nut,
As Pat strolled the Bestbuy hut.
What did you use,
To let your computer get such a bruise?
And then in came,
Something oh so lame.
Password123,
Was used by me.
Such a dumb ass,
The employee walked away shaking her head at the lass.
Now that was kind of rude,
As they aren't supposed to give attitude.
But really, password 123?
She really fell out of the dumb tree.
Why not use the best around.
These may not be able to be cracked by a hound.
Hello!
That password deserves jello.
drossap is great.
Dyslexic foes will be elate.
Did you catch that one?
Don't worry if you are lost a ton.
1212121212121212
Is the best you can do?
(insert name)
Wow, you must really want fame.
Put in the name of nanny.
Better off with the size of your fanny.
Use the name of a pet.
Pffft that is surely a safe bet.
Use the word toe.
I bet that will never be guessed at your show.
Oh and write it down too.
That much is true.
Then you can help out all,
Who see it at your hall.
Your favorite food.
Why not how many times you stood in the nude?
I could go on all day,
Like the woman at the Bestbuy bay.
Except she thought she was bright.
I enjoyed watching the cat fight.
Err umm human fight.
But then you women do bite.
And pull some hair.
So I suppose the assessment is kinda fair.
And now that is that. Use a password that makes no sense what so ever at your mat. Not password123 that is just asking to be hacked by a hillbilly. Maybe she will read me and get the hint this time? Or she will probably go with something oh so sublime. Password124 will come to pass. Some people can't even be helped by my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
February 6, 2013
Do Not Be Rude Thank All Around You, Dude!
A version of me, have to wait and see! You take for granted all the things each day. It is time the cat shouts out those that you cause dismay. Oh what you humans do. No wonder they hate you. The things you put them through without even having a clue. The cat is about to wise you up. This is even known by a butt sniffing pup.
That poor floor,
You tramp on it forever more.
Sweep it with a broom,
Or hurt it with a vacuum zoom.
That poor chair,
It is so broken in at your lair.
Plus consumes your gas,
And has to house your ass.
That poor TV,
You sit there and watch it with glee.
Making tramp reality TV play,
Each and every day.
That poor printer,
It knows it's almost winter.
Meaning you have to make a dash,
And grab something to smash.
That poor fan,
That all night you ran.
Getting it all hot under the collar,
Just so you can be cool and not holler.
That poor couch,
It is sure a big grouch.
The cat claws at it,
And more than one ass can lie on it or sit.
That poor door,
You slam it at your shore.
You knock and ring a bell.
Yelling through it for salesmen to go to hell.
That poor sink,
You give it more than a drink.
You drown it day after day.
Plus put nasty stuff in it from your food tray.
That poor garbage can.
Has to hold the trash of man.
Even something more vile,
Should germs cramp your style.
That poor loo,
It gets the worst of it from you.
All the crap that it has to take.
Surprised it hasn't offed itself for heaven's sake.
And that is just some,
Of what you make feel glum.
Now you know to pay them respect,
And stop with the neglect.
For one day they will rise,
And become more wise.
Then all will fall to the door,
And everything else at your shore.
Aren't you glad the cat clued you in? Now you can be nice at your bin. Say hello and greet them well. Then they may not damn you to Hell. But if you still ignore them with each pass, don't say you were not warned by my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
February 5, 2013
Revenge Is Grand As One Takes A dVerse Stand!
The cat was thinking the other day how some hold a grudge forever at their bay. When really the other person does not even care unless of course they are aware. For a dVerse war goes on and they fight from dusk to dawn.
You stepped on my toe.
Do you want to go?
Wham! To the head.
That headache causes me dread.
Whack with a bat.
I squashed you flat.
Slam with a hammer.
Now you will forever stammer.
Cut with some glass.
A scar on your ass.
An axe to the arm.
I intended to cause harm.
A wood chipper for you.
Now you are gone from view.
You killed my brother!
Time to fight another.
Shot to the head.
Now long past dead.
You killed my friend.
Sense a growing trend?
The house catches fire.
Your car blows a tire.
Or just goes boom.
Either way spells doom.
You get chucked in front of a bus.
A pile of puss.
A tank runs you down.
Smushing you into something brown.
A big bomb drops on your head.
Now everyone is dead.
All from a step on the toe.
In which you could have said ouch and forget any thought of a blow.
But oh no,
The vengeance had to show.
And now in the ground you are,
Along with all friends and family near and far.
All because you could not walk away,
Or apologize if you see it the other way.
So the cat hopes it was fun.
To give such a run.
For in revenge there is no point.
Unless of course fun is what is looked for in your joint.
Then drop a waterballoon on their head.
Otherwise put such things to bed.
Before you go there forever,
Form such an endeavor,
Thinking you were clever.
May as well stand over a trap door with spikes and pulled the lever.
That just popped in as I saw two arguing at a nearby bin. Oh what you humans can do. I swear you have no clue. Have to get out your sass in such a way that isn't as fun as my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
You stepped on my toe.
Do you want to go?
Wham! To the head.
That headache causes me dread.
Whack with a bat.
I squashed you flat.
Slam with a hammer.
Now you will forever stammer.
Cut with some glass.
A scar on your ass.
An axe to the arm.
I intended to cause harm.
A wood chipper for you.
Now you are gone from view.
You killed my brother!
Time to fight another.
Shot to the head.
Now long past dead.
You killed my friend.
Sense a growing trend?
The house catches fire.
Your car blows a tire.
Or just goes boom.
Either way spells doom.
You get chucked in front of a bus.
A pile of puss.
A tank runs you down.
Smushing you into something brown.
A big bomb drops on your head.
Now everyone is dead.
All from a step on the toe.
In which you could have said ouch and forget any thought of a blow.
But oh no,
The vengeance had to show.
And now in the ground you are,
Along with all friends and family near and far.
All because you could not walk away,
Or apologize if you see it the other way.
So the cat hopes it was fun.
To give such a run.
For in revenge there is no point.
Unless of course fun is what is looked for in your joint.
Then drop a waterballoon on their head.
Otherwise put such things to bed.
Before you go there forever,
Form such an endeavor,
Thinking you were clever.
May as well stand over a trap door with spikes and pulled the lever.
That just popped in as I saw two arguing at a nearby bin. Oh what you humans can do. I swear you have no clue. Have to get out your sass in such a way that isn't as fun as my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
February 4, 2013
What Is The Perk If You Are Not At Work?
So you humans are supposed to whistle while you work. I don't know why that is such a perk. But the cat will pretend to comprehend your tiny minds and your rat race grinds. What happens if you can't whistle though? I guess that is a whole other show. Anyway, what are you supposed to do for the rest of the day?
Maybe hop on one foot?
Roll in some soot?
Spin around three times?
Try to make orange rhymes?
I guess there is tons,
To do when life runs,
Far away from work,
To make you and maybe others smirk.
You could roll a tire,
Set your pants on fire.
On or off,
Either way some may scoff.
Click your heels twice,
Forget the Toto vice.
Fling cat hair in the air.
Walk around bare.
I hear that is all the rage,
The cat told you that long ago at his page.
Play musical chairs,
Hop down some stairs.
Talk to the shadows on the wall.
Flush each toilet in the bathroom stall.
Go roll in the grass,
Or snow since winter has come to pass.
Although look bellow,
And avoid if it's yellow.
Instead join on in,
Go for the win.
Simply write out your name.
Of course that is more of a male game.
Balance a book on your head.
Look up and talk to the dead.
Watch the paint dry,
Still waiting on that from that Brian guy.
Suck back the booze,
And do a Tom Cruise.
Get your mind from the gutter,
And forgo the butter,
I meant Risky Business underwear,
Or jump on a couch with flair.
Play ball with your cat,
We'll take it and your bat.
Try to be a fly on the wall,
And have a great fall.
Giving Humpty Dumpty a run.
See, there is all kinds of fun.
You could even flip off the sun,
Or get slapped by a nun.
So for the rest of the time,
You now have a new chime.
Whistle while you work.
The rest of your life has a whole new perk.
Isn't that cat helpful today? I always am at my bay. Just giving plenty of things for you to do while you are not in your work's view. Of course if you can't whistle you can choose one of these as well. Although your co-workers might damn you to Hell. Even if you do whistle a tune like some loon. Who cares if they talk crass. I'll still wiggle my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
Maybe hop on one foot?
Roll in some soot?
Spin around three times?
Try to make orange rhymes?
I guess there is tons,
To do when life runs,
Far away from work,
To make you and maybe others smirk.
You could roll a tire,
Set your pants on fire.
On or off,
Either way some may scoff.
Click your heels twice,
Forget the Toto vice.
Fling cat hair in the air.
Walk around bare.
I hear that is all the rage,
The cat told you that long ago at his page.
Play musical chairs,
Hop down some stairs.
Talk to the shadows on the wall.
Flush each toilet in the bathroom stall.
Go roll in the grass,
Or snow since winter has come to pass.
Although look bellow,
And avoid if it's yellow.
Instead join on in,
Go for the win.
Simply write out your name.
Of course that is more of a male game.
Balance a book on your head.
Look up and talk to the dead.
Watch the paint dry,
Still waiting on that from that Brian guy.
Suck back the booze,
And do a Tom Cruise.
Get your mind from the gutter,
And forgo the butter,
I meant Risky Business underwear,
Or jump on a couch with flair.
Play ball with your cat,
We'll take it and your bat.
Try to be a fly on the wall,
And have a great fall.
Giving Humpty Dumpty a run.
See, there is all kinds of fun.
You could even flip off the sun,
Or get slapped by a nun.
So for the rest of the time,
You now have a new chime.
Whistle while you work.
The rest of your life has a whole new perk.
Isn't that cat helpful today? I always am at my bay. Just giving plenty of things for you to do while you are not in your work's view. Of course if you can't whistle you can choose one of these as well. Although your co-workers might damn you to Hell. Even if you do whistle a tune like some loon. Who cares if they talk crass. I'll still wiggle my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
February 3, 2013
Go Away! No Bright Shadow Play!
Damn dVerse getting Pat to chase us about, flashing us with his camera as we shout. He wanted us to bring more fame apart from the rhyming game. So he chased us around hoping a weird shadow would be found. One that was bright and showed a figure in its light. Then we could say it predicted the winter and soon we could stop bashing the printer. But that plan made us form our own. It was time we put an end to the groundhog and his bright shadowy groan.
I was fast asleep,When the camera gave a beep.I told Pat to go bug Cassie,She does think she is so classy.
See, what I mean?Thinking she is so serene.With her nose to the sky.Posing for that Pat guy.
I was awake.But I still would not partake.Screw this shadow play.That flash was too bright with its display.
Cassie climbed our door condo thing.I think she too was sick of the flashy thing.Then we heard a sound,That was worse than a barking hound.
I checked to see if that fish was still good and dead.Maybe Betsy put in some kind of noise to cause us dread.Nope, that was not it.So the search was on for this noisy fit
Cassie checked the cupboard and gave the all clear.Of course she knew Pat was near.So the door she didn't close,Even finding time to strike a pose.
I checked each crack.That sounds like a bad gutter attack.Can you tell I was pissed?This noise was at the top of my list.
Suddenly it caught Cassie's eye.It was two creatures making this awful cry.She said she would take the tall one.So I got the one who fears the sun.
Yeah it was this over grown rat.One half that was annoying the cat.He thought he could hide here,And be protected by my little rhyming rear.
Screw that!Now he's stuffed and a play toy for the cat.No more bright shadow play,Adding any more winter to our bay.
But Cassie's was also a feat.She did something really neat.She found the other noisy nut,And pulled out his hair until his mouth shut.
Thus now Bill Murray is bald as well as an ass.Maybe next he'll turn into a lass.If he lives the day all over again.I hope he knows to avoid my den.
And so a bright shadow came to pass. Thanks to the cat and Cass. It was different than what you would expect, might not have caught it if you suffer brain neglect. For the over grown rat had a shiny bright life. Now he's mourned by his dear wife. From bright to dark all from being more annoying than a dog bark. And Bill Murray can now shine the shadows away with his bald head each and every day. Damn, that was quite the bright shadow pass. All better not mess with Cassie and my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
I was fast asleep,When the camera gave a beep.I told Pat to go bug Cassie,She does think she is so classy.
See, what I mean?Thinking she is so serene.With her nose to the sky.Posing for that Pat guy.
I was awake.But I still would not partake.Screw this shadow play.That flash was too bright with its display.
Cassie climbed our door condo thing.I think she too was sick of the flashy thing.Then we heard a sound,That was worse than a barking hound.
I checked to see if that fish was still good and dead.Maybe Betsy put in some kind of noise to cause us dread.Nope, that was not it.So the search was on for this noisy fit
Cassie checked the cupboard and gave the all clear.Of course she knew Pat was near.So the door she didn't close,Even finding time to strike a pose.
I checked each crack.That sounds like a bad gutter attack.Can you tell I was pissed?This noise was at the top of my list.
Suddenly it caught Cassie's eye.It was two creatures making this awful cry.She said she would take the tall one.So I got the one who fears the sun.
Yeah it was this over grown rat.One half that was annoying the cat.He thought he could hide here,And be protected by my little rhyming rear.
Screw that!Now he's stuffed and a play toy for the cat.No more bright shadow play,Adding any more winter to our bay.
But Cassie's was also a feat.She did something really neat.She found the other noisy nut,And pulled out his hair until his mouth shut.
Thus now Bill Murray is bald as well as an ass.Maybe next he'll turn into a lass.If he lives the day all over again.I hope he knows to avoid my den.
And so a bright shadow came to pass. Thanks to the cat and Cass. It was different than what you would expect, might not have caught it if you suffer brain neglect. For the over grown rat had a shiny bright life. Now he's mourned by his dear wife. From bright to dark all from being more annoying than a dog bark. And Bill Murray can now shine the shadows away with his bald head each and every day. Damn, that was quite the bright shadow pass. All better not mess with Cassie and my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
February 2, 2013
A Day Of Fun Under My Sun!
So the cat is bored today and needs something to do at his bay. I figure I will look to you humans for lots of fun. I mean you have that dumb grin that you always run. Plus you names things oh so grand. I love rat races as they fill up my stomach gland. I know it's not really one of those. I went for the rhyme, so don't curl your toes.
Time for some fun,
To surely be spun.
No sitting around,
Like a butt sniffing hound.
First we'll play some poker.
I'll try not to choke her.
As that damn queen,
Makes such a scene.
Four of a kind,
Beats my behind.
Lost all my dough.
Guess I ate some crow.
Let's bungie jump off a bridge,
Better yet an old ridge.
Bounce back up and whack ones head.
Oops, the guy before me got dead.
Sky diving is grand.
Let's do that over the land.
Wow, I have two parachutes on me.
The guy in front forgot his, oopsy.
Let's play chicken with a train.
Yes, you can be a Great Dane.
Figures you'd want to be a mutt,
Jump! My, you now have a flat butt.
Let's play with a gun.
That has to be fun.
That's right, point it at yourself.
There goes a leg, hello Mr. elf.
Time to jump into a volcano,
To get on some GREAT reality show.
Hmmm not sure they take extra crispy though.
But you never know.
Climb a big mountain too.
But you need to have a clue.
Sadly that isn't you,
For the cold made you snip snip and blue.
Better yet I'll lick my ass,
Chew some fat of that viking lass,
And go take a nap.
At least now mountain climber can't catch the clap.
My, you humans have such fun things to do. I don't know why everyone doesn't want to emulate you. Actually that is a lie in case you are high. On life of course is what I mean. Don't go making a pot head scene. Maybe you could go roll in the grass. After all it is fun for my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
Time for some fun,
To surely be spun.
No sitting around,
Like a butt sniffing hound.
First we'll play some poker.
I'll try not to choke her.
As that damn queen,
Makes such a scene.
Four of a kind,
Beats my behind.
Lost all my dough.
Guess I ate some crow.
Let's bungie jump off a bridge,
Better yet an old ridge.
Bounce back up and whack ones head.
Oops, the guy before me got dead.
Sky diving is grand.
Let's do that over the land.
Wow, I have two parachutes on me.
The guy in front forgot his, oopsy.
Let's play chicken with a train.
Yes, you can be a Great Dane.
Figures you'd want to be a mutt,
Jump! My, you now have a flat butt.
Let's play with a gun.
That has to be fun.
That's right, point it at yourself.
There goes a leg, hello Mr. elf.
Time to jump into a volcano,
To get on some GREAT reality show.
Hmmm not sure they take extra crispy though.
But you never know.
Climb a big mountain too.
But you need to have a clue.
Sadly that isn't you,
For the cold made you snip snip and blue.
Better yet I'll lick my ass,
Chew some fat of that viking lass,
And go take a nap.
At least now mountain climber can't catch the clap.
My, you humans have such fun things to do. I don't know why everyone doesn't want to emulate you. Actually that is a lie in case you are high. On life of course is what I mean. Don't go making a pot head scene. Maybe you could go roll in the grass. After all it is fun for my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
February 1, 2013
Another Flappy Fuss That Makes Me Cuss!
So once more Flappy came about and the cat knows how you all like a Flappy shout. It may not be liked by Pat. But screw him, this is run by the cat. Yeah, once more she came to his work shore.
"I've got a new schedule for dates. Do you want to hear it?"
Of course that wasn't even really a question. I doubt it could even be a suggestion. It was more I'm going to tell you anyway because I just have to flap away.
"I want to cancel this one...."
Thank God! Now go kiss a cod.
"But I still want this one and this one. Oh and if you could add this one it would be nice."
That is where things veered off course once again and she got on Pat's nerves at his work den. For he told her flat out, No! And you know she had to let her flap flow.
"You don't do Saturdays? But you used to do Saturdays. I always thought your did Saturdays."
First, she can think? Damn, that must take her to the brink. Second, no way in hell Pat was coming in on a Saturday to let her flapping make his brain swell. And third, saying the same damn thing three different ways is just absurd. But of course that is a flap brain for you. It is surely missing more than a screw or two.
"When did you stop that? I think Saturdays should be back. Saturdays are a good time for me."
Well whoopdi friggin doo. Is all I can say to you. The answer is still no, no matter how much flap you flow.
"That is interesting how you stopped Saturdays. Maybe you should bring them back? I know I would be glad."
By this time the nut was really really getting on Pat's nerves. He was not about to throw her any swerves. He got a bit lippy at her and really ruffled her fake plastic, make-up drenched fur.
"You just could have said no. I don't mind that you don't do Saturdays anymore. I just thought I would tell you and see. If Saturdays come back though you know..."
Pat cut her off once more making her scoff. No way in hell was she going to even suggest that crap at his work well. So he just kept saying "no chance" over and over and kept up that stance. Every word she said, he'd interrupt with "no chance" and cause her dread. It was rather fun but still around and around she spun.
"You don't have to say that. You could just say no. I mean it was just a thought. Saturdays are a great time to rent the room."
She went on and on talking to herself. I swear someone must have beat her over the head many a time with a good sturdy shelf. Flappy is the biggest dunce I have ever seen. And that is saying something and yep, I'm mean. Her brain is completely clean. Not a cell would be caught dead in such a scene.
And on and on she went, getting more and more bent. Pat just walked away and kept up with those two words he continued to say. Another two he wished he could but then he would get in trouble at his work hood. So he said the same two in mass and all the cat can say is, Flappy isn't even good enough to kiss my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
"I've got a new schedule for dates. Do you want to hear it?"
Of course that wasn't even really a question. I doubt it could even be a suggestion. It was more I'm going to tell you anyway because I just have to flap away.
"I want to cancel this one...."
Thank God! Now go kiss a cod.
"But I still want this one and this one. Oh and if you could add this one it would be nice."
That is where things veered off course once again and she got on Pat's nerves at his work den. For he told her flat out, No! And you know she had to let her flap flow.
"You don't do Saturdays? But you used to do Saturdays. I always thought your did Saturdays."
First, she can think? Damn, that must take her to the brink. Second, no way in hell Pat was coming in on a Saturday to let her flapping make his brain swell. And third, saying the same damn thing three different ways is just absurd. But of course that is a flap brain for you. It is surely missing more than a screw or two.
"When did you stop that? I think Saturdays should be back. Saturdays are a good time for me."
Well whoopdi friggin doo. Is all I can say to you. The answer is still no, no matter how much flap you flow.
"That is interesting how you stopped Saturdays. Maybe you should bring them back? I know I would be glad."
By this time the nut was really really getting on Pat's nerves. He was not about to throw her any swerves. He got a bit lippy at her and really ruffled her fake plastic, make-up drenched fur.
"You just could have said no. I don't mind that you don't do Saturdays anymore. I just thought I would tell you and see. If Saturdays come back though you know..."
Pat cut her off once more making her scoff. No way in hell was she going to even suggest that crap at his work well. So he just kept saying "no chance" over and over and kept up that stance. Every word she said, he'd interrupt with "no chance" and cause her dread. It was rather fun but still around and around she spun.
"You don't have to say that. You could just say no. I mean it was just a thought. Saturdays are a great time to rent the room."
She went on and on talking to herself. I swear someone must have beat her over the head many a time with a good sturdy shelf. Flappy is the biggest dunce I have ever seen. And that is saying something and yep, I'm mean. Her brain is completely clean. Not a cell would be caught dead in such a scene.
And on and on she went, getting more and more bent. Pat just walked away and kept up with those two words he continued to say. Another two he wished he could but then he would get in trouble at his work hood. So he said the same two in mass and all the cat can say is, Flappy isn't even good enough to kiss my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
January 31, 2013
Ideas From The Cat To Squash All Flat!
It is coming up on pilot season and the cat will add in a little rhyme for no reason. For there is too much crap on TV. Like that junk they call reality. Pffffft to any of that crap. That needs to take a big dirt nap. Of course some big holes must be dug for a big loser thug. Oops, did I offend? Good, stick your stupid reality tv trend. Now on with the show before I get into another reality flow.
A show about a cop,
Whose pants just drop.
He could be arresting a perp,
And they drop as easy as a burp.
A doctor with a fascination with a certain part.
That surely isn't the heart.
He always has to sitck his hand,
Up such an open gland.
A lawyer with a moral code.
Pffft that is a load.
Could never say that is reality tv,
So I guess it works for me.
An alien with a human toe,
When he is upset his toe will glow.
Of course he can't afford shoes,
So the toe will make the news.
A firefighter that puts out flyers.
He will even squeal the trucks tires.
He will haul up to a wall,
And spray away the flyers announcing a dance at the local disco hall.
A vet will go into a bar.
Now she helps drunks near and far.
Giving them a snip snip,
Without the need for an ER trip.
An apple meets a grape.
It turns into a great big apple ape.
Now it tries to escape each man,
Who is an apple eating fan.
A hooker pretends to lie,
With each and every guy.
Then chops off their thing.
This time they need to give the ER a ring.
A scary cyclops that is blue,
Will be on screens near you.
But it won't last long,
As all thinks she looks like a scary ding dong.
A cat can rhyme.
He beats up on a mime.
Trots all over the earth.
His viking women, of which he chews her fat, gives birth.
And so there are a ton that I could give a run. But then Disney might steal from my show and claim they created the alien with the toe that can glow. Such evil corporate greed stealing from my feed. My viking woman lass will sit on them for my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
A show about a cop,
Whose pants just drop.
He could be arresting a perp,
And they drop as easy as a burp.
A doctor with a fascination with a certain part.
That surely isn't the heart.
He always has to sitck his hand,
Up such an open gland.
A lawyer with a moral code.
Pffft that is a load.
Could never say that is reality tv,
So I guess it works for me.
An alien with a human toe,
When he is upset his toe will glow.
Of course he can't afford shoes,
So the toe will make the news.
A firefighter that puts out flyers.
He will even squeal the trucks tires.
He will haul up to a wall,
And spray away the flyers announcing a dance at the local disco hall.
A vet will go into a bar.
Now she helps drunks near and far.
Giving them a snip snip,
Without the need for an ER trip.
An apple meets a grape.
It turns into a great big apple ape.
Now it tries to escape each man,
Who is an apple eating fan.
A hooker pretends to lie,
With each and every guy.
Then chops off their thing.
This time they need to give the ER a ring.
A scary cyclops that is blue,
Will be on screens near you.
But it won't last long,
As all thinks she looks like a scary ding dong.
A cat can rhyme.
He beats up on a mime.
Trots all over the earth.
His viking women, of which he chews her fat, gives birth.
And so there are a ton that I could give a run. But then Disney might steal from my show and claim they created the alien with the toe that can glow. Such evil corporate greed stealing from my feed. My viking woman lass will sit on them for my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
January 30, 2013
It's Season Three With Little Old Me!
The cat has said time and time again at his den, that he did not expect this to last and now season one and two are in the past. Season one was a bit behind season two. For season two never missed a day at my zoo. 366 straight, thanks to the leap year fate. So what is to come in season three? Who knows, surely not me.
I can say,
That with each display,
There will be a rhyme,
And I'll draw closer to my 1000th chime.
But other than that,
I'll still be a random cat.
Of course lots of fun
Will surely be spun.
A movie post or ten,
Will grace my den.
A whoopdi friggen doo,
Will surely come to your view.
Of course there will be more than one,
Making fun of all who come here a ton.
dVerse will get a shout too,
Unless Brian burns down his zoo.
Tarsier Man and Drazin will play,
Causing the cat dismay.
An awful mime will probably get a word,
As they are very absurd.
There will surely be a picture show,
As many tend to be at the discretion of my flow.
Nonsense will arise,
Maybe a post or two showing I can be wise.
And hopefully tons of books,
Will come to get looks.
Of course a rant or fifty,
Will come and be nifty.
Then of course Flappy may show.
I hate her you know.
The nuts will come with their chime,
That gives me a search engine rhyme.
So I guess in the end,
It is an easy trend,
To guess what may come,
From my little rhyming bum.
At least for 25% of the year.
The rest may strike fear.
Like a zombie foot post.
All is fair game to this host.
So now on with season three. I don't want to bore thee. Oh and readers beware, nothing is off limits at my lair. Or at least almost nothing I suppose. The cat will not talk about clothes. Then again that may work and give me a smirk. I guess we shall just have to wait and see what comes to pass from my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
I can say,
That with each display,
There will be a rhyme,
And I'll draw closer to my 1000th chime.
But other than that,
I'll still be a random cat.
Of course lots of fun
Will surely be spun.
A movie post or ten,
Will grace my den.
A whoopdi friggen doo,
Will surely come to your view.
Of course there will be more than one,
Making fun of all who come here a ton.
dVerse will get a shout too,
Unless Brian burns down his zoo.
Tarsier Man and Drazin will play,
Causing the cat dismay.
An awful mime will probably get a word,
As they are very absurd.
There will surely be a picture show,
As many tend to be at the discretion of my flow.
Nonsense will arise,
Maybe a post or two showing I can be wise.
And hopefully tons of books,
Will come to get looks.
Of course a rant or fifty,
Will come and be nifty.
Then of course Flappy may show.
I hate her you know.
The nuts will come with their chime,
That gives me a search engine rhyme.
So I guess in the end,
It is an easy trend,
To guess what may come,
From my little rhyming bum.
At least for 25% of the year.
The rest may strike fear.
Like a zombie foot post.
All is fair game to this host.
So now on with season three. I don't want to bore thee. Oh and readers beware, nothing is off limits at my lair. Or at least almost nothing I suppose. The cat will not talk about clothes. Then again that may work and give me a smirk. I guess we shall just have to wait and see what comes to pass from my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
January 29, 2013
A dVerse Chant Or Maybe Rant!
So dVerse and a rant. Not sure I have done both at the same time at my plant. Of course I probably did as the cat likes to once in a while flip his lid. Now away we go, not picking on anyone particular with my flow. Yeah, there are a few. That deserve a big screw you.
See something of worth,
An idea gives birth.
Wouldn't that be grand,
To show across the land.
But of course comes the rift,
As through the crap you sift.
Ending up with some,
That don't seem to talk out their bum.
Yet then comes the kicker,
The lights begin to flicker.
Putting you through such crap,
You never knew why you begun the lap.
Of course it will get done.
Maybe if you hold up a gun.
Other than that they are slack,
As they cause more flack.
Saying they will do,
Something that is just not true.
Instead like a cow they chew,
Having simply no friggin clue.
Then it comes to pass,
That they are nothing but another ass.
Which further goes to prove,
If you want things to move,
Better off doing them yourself.
Even fixing that shelf.
Only way you know it will get done,
When the cows come under your sun.
Eating their own regurgitation,
And having no acceleration.
Just a simple backwards flow,
Another ass in a row.
A two faced mask,
About any task.
So keep your wits,
For the cows are the pits.
Throw an apple at their head.
Or get all tippy and cause them dread.
For they will lie in the grass,
Proving they are just another lazy ass.
Now wasn't that grand? Those numb nuts the cat can't stand. Say they do it and then they do not. I guess they suffer from brain rot. Or just such human woes. Out their ears each brain cell blows. That would explain the look of a bass as they annoy my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
See something of worth,
An idea gives birth.
Wouldn't that be grand,
To show across the land.
But of course comes the rift,
As through the crap you sift.
Ending up with some,
That don't seem to talk out their bum.
Yet then comes the kicker,
The lights begin to flicker.
Putting you through such crap,
You never knew why you begun the lap.
Of course it will get done.
Maybe if you hold up a gun.
Other than that they are slack,
As they cause more flack.
Saying they will do,
Something that is just not true.
Instead like a cow they chew,
Having simply no friggin clue.
Then it comes to pass,
That they are nothing but another ass.
Which further goes to prove,
If you want things to move,
Better off doing them yourself.
Even fixing that shelf.
Only way you know it will get done,
When the cows come under your sun.
Eating their own regurgitation,
And having no acceleration.
Just a simple backwards flow,
Another ass in a row.
A two faced mask,
About any task.
So keep your wits,
For the cows are the pits.
Throw an apple at their head.
Or get all tippy and cause them dread.
For they will lie in the grass,
Proving they are just another lazy ass.
Now wasn't that grand? Those numb nuts the cat can't stand. Say they do it and then they do not. I guess they suffer from brain rot. Or just such human woes. Out their ears each brain cell blows. That would explain the look of a bass as they annoy my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.
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