Thursday, July 27, 2017

Not There By A Hair!

The cat has had it done and then I have a little fun. Some are just so lazy, but that isn't something any find hazy. Except maybe for the brain dead and the lazy crew. So I guess there may be quite a few.

It's not there.
Nope, not at all.
I checked at my lair.
I followed the bouncing ball.

It lead me nowhere.
I could not find it.
I had time to spare,
But it never showed a bit.

A site, information or even a pic.
Nothing was there as I went, click!
Is there some trick?
You can do it slick.

Why don't you do it?
I'll settle for that.
You make it a hit.
Come on, rhyming cat.

Do it for me.
I can't find it.
You'll cause me glee,
As here I sit.

I searched and searched.
I tried and tried.
As here I'm perched.
Oops, I lied.

I wanted easy.
I wanted you to do it.
I won't get cheesy.
But you're a hit.

Do it for me.
I declare it now.
You'll love such a spree,
It will just wow.

Then send me the link.
Send me what you know.
I'll read as I drink.
I've also got a lawn to mow.

Feel free to do that too.
You are just the best.
I haven't a clue.
But you pass the test.

Pfffft such idiots put more work into not doing it themselves than the collective work of Santa's elves. Some can't use a search engine worth a damn. Others have a brain of spam. Ever get asked to do it for someone instead of them giving what they needed a run? The cat will screw with them and then give sass. That is the best the lazy sobs will get from my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Look What I Own At The Tone!

Now we all know about the Jones's type nuts. That has been said at many huts. Been there, done that. But there are more Looky Lous that chew the fat. They want you to be so impressed. Frankly, I'm surprised they can even get dressed.

Look at me.
Share my glee.
I've got stuff.
Can't get enough.

Not a hoarder.
All is in order.
You've been there?
Hoard to spare.

What we want,
Sure does taunt.
It allows a touch,
Or fame and such.

I've got Will Smith's trash.
Stole it in a flash.
Isn't that great?
Won't you be my mate?

I've got so dead celebrities hair.
Her name I can't share.
I don't want you to steal it.
But she had many a hit.

I've got her toe nail clippings too.
Want to see a few?
They are in pristine condition.
But it's paid only admission.

I've got Elvis's mowed grass.
I have it in mass.
It's all frozen in the freezer.
Sure to be a people pleaser.

I even got...shh don't tell.
This one is really swell.
It's Harrison Ford's used condom.
I used the force to bond them.

But that's not all.
I've got a whole wall.
Such things are totally rare.
Like...shhh..hair from down there.

Other stuff I've sold.
These things are pure gold.
Don't you want to view?
Maybe even make an offer on one or two?

Pfffft and pfffft some more a sadly such things are considered "collectible" at many a human shore. Really? Hair and trash and many many other weird things in a stash? That just scares the cat. Less impressive than my scat. Do you have any such "collectible" items like bottled Luke Skywalker gas? Best not to tell my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

A Little Age Change Wage!

The cat hears humans say they don't change even if life were to rearrange. For some that may be true, as they whine in mommy's basement all the day through. But for others we shall see. Change sure comes, for better or worse, to thee.

Add a day.
Add a year.
Much will play.
Cheer or fear.

Each an add.
Each a loss.
Change is had,
Comes like moss.

Grows more cold.
Grows more happy.
Truth be told,
May get more yappy.

Less is more.
More is less.
Damn the chore,
Leave the mess.

More days behind.
Less days ahead.
Some mean, some kind,
Time has sped.

The less you care.
The more you do.
Either way you're aware,
What others think of you.

More grumpy, more bitter.
Less selfish, less about me.
Can sure take to Twitter,
Or just let it be.

A decision here.
A decision there.
Change is near,
Whether or not aware.

A little more of this.
A little less of that.
Could be bliss or hiss,
Or some extra fat.

Change shall grow.
Change shall come.
Unless, you know,
You just sit on your bum.

I suppose it will come then as well. For you may get wide as Hell. That is some sort of change, right? Change sure happens whether or not we want it to take flight. Age brings it along and we may sing a new song. May not always be a good one and could hurt the ears a ton. But I'll leave that to the singing bass. Now I have to get Pat to change the litter of my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.