Deep Thoughts Concerning Life, the Universe, and Everything
Created | Updated Jan 28, 2002
The candy cane custodian
Is seizing secretaries,
But when you ask the reason,
You will find it often varies.
Catch the jumping eyeball
Between two folding chairs;
A blood bank on the hoof should not be force-fed Gummi bears.
Crunchy Western music
In a stanza compromise
Is flying with the Slinkies
On a pair of freckled eyes.
The cult of the dead cow
Passionately kills
All who drive diesel trucks
Filled with dollar bills.
The daily tribulations
Of maleficent hedge-pruners
Are nothing when compared with those
Of syncopated schooners.
The diabolic duo
(Who were bent on not being found)
Went a-rolling in the cosmos
Where the fishy freaks abound.
The freaky pocket people
Are molding mental clay
And power-twonking madly
While the verses run away.
The frogs are zenning loudly
At a punctuated bear,
So if mangoes taste like supermarkets,
Who the heck should care?
The giant green bean parasites
Have landed on the steeple.
They're holding cows with parachutes
To please the pointed people.
A huge conglomeration
Of proprietary queens
Was suffocated Thursday
By exploding mondegreens.
I'm a mean hot dog
Raised by millionaires,
But I always slip on cheese
When going down the stairs.
I was sitting eating ice cream
When a puppy ate my gun,
And I now have spent a lifetime
Being haunted by a nun.
The last why not is walking smack;
I hope you realize
That it could turn from red to black
And float before your eyes.
Some hibernating penguins
In a flying arrow zed
Are encountering a question
That just yesterday was dead.
Svengalian tsunamis
Are propelled by open flame,
Which is why tomatoes quiver
At the mention of my name.
Take, O take the quad cow
To the land of headless phones,
For the masquerading mimics
Are demanding buttered scones.
A watermelon ran me over
Coating me with poison goop,
But when the kangaroos are howling,
All that glitters is not soup.
When the overzealous frosting
Raids the change bear for a pickle,
Since I've got my own this chicken,
My veganity is fickle.
When you see a helicopter
Swinging on a vine,
The suitcase may be totaled
But the egg, of course, is fine.
The wizard windows propagate
Where wire dares not go,
For bleeding is a minor technicality, you know.
(More will be added on a more or less daily basis; see my home page for further information.)
Is seizing secretaries,
But when you ask the reason,
You will find it often varies.
Catch the jumping eyeball
Between two folding chairs;
A blood bank on the hoof should not be force-fed Gummi bears.
Crunchy Western music
In a stanza compromise
Is flying with the Slinkies
On a pair of freckled eyes.
The cult of the dead cow
Passionately kills
All who drive diesel trucks
Filled with dollar bills.
The daily tribulations
Of maleficent hedge-pruners
Are nothing when compared with those
Of syncopated schooners.
The diabolic duo
(Who were bent on not being found)
Went a-rolling in the cosmos
Where the fishy freaks abound.
The freaky pocket people
Are molding mental clay
And power-twonking madly
While the verses run away.
The frogs are zenning loudly
At a punctuated bear,
So if mangoes taste like supermarkets,
Who the heck should care?
The giant green bean parasites
Have landed on the steeple.
They're holding cows with parachutes
To please the pointed people.
A huge conglomeration
Of proprietary queens
Was suffocated Thursday
By exploding mondegreens.
I'm a mean hot dog
Raised by millionaires,
But I always slip on cheese
When going down the stairs.
I was sitting eating ice cream
When a puppy ate my gun,
And I now have spent a lifetime
Being haunted by a nun.
The last why not is walking smack;
I hope you realize
That it could turn from red to black
And float before your eyes.
Some hibernating penguins
In a flying arrow zed
Are encountering a question
That just yesterday was dead.
Svengalian tsunamis
Are propelled by open flame,
Which is why tomatoes quiver
At the mention of my name.
Take, O take the quad cow
To the land of headless phones,
For the masquerading mimics
Are demanding buttered scones.
A watermelon ran me over
Coating me with poison goop,
But when the kangaroos are howling,
All that glitters is not soup.
When the overzealous frosting
Raids the change bear for a pickle,
Since I've got my own this chicken,
My veganity is fickle.
When you see a helicopter
Swinging on a vine,
The suitcase may be totaled
But the egg, of course, is fine.
The wizard windows propagate
Where wire dares not go,
For bleeding is a minor technicality, you know.
(More will be added on a more or less daily basis; see my home page for further information.)
