All The Same Type Of Lame!

The cat is back with his end of year attack. Hmm, maybe I'll forgo it this year. I'll let all give their cheer. That might be nice of me? Think I can do that at my sea?

Here we are,
Many at a bar.
End of the year.
Ready to cheer.

Swear up and down,
All across the town,
That this will take form,
And bye bye to the norm.

Fast forward a week.
What they said was Greek.
Or maybe it was French.
Could have just been a monkey with a wrench.

The day is still the same.
Out goes their flame.
They still sit like a twit,
Not getting fit.

Still slave at a job,
With poor old Bob.
Still hate the job too,
Giving a familiar moo.

Still whine every day,
That there's no time to play.
Still blame the world,
Their life hasn't twirled.

But that is okay.
They have another magic day.
Jan 1, 2017 is it.
Then they'll change that shit.

And if that isn't a perk,
Jan 1, 2018 will work.
There is always a day,
For "magic" to play.

Until one faithful day,
You remember what you say,
But it is far too late,
Because you're at a pearly gate.

Whoopsy, you're dead.
Died in your bed.
The magic day was lost,
Because you let yourself get bossed.

A cheery way to end the year from my rhyming rear. Don't you want to go out and wish on that "magic" day for all your cares to go away? Pfffffft to any of that shit, every little bit. More magic in the gas that comes out my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.