Thursday, April 19, 2018

2803. Froggy went a' courtin'

My date one night seemed really hot
I was hoping to get in her twat
She allowed me to take a
Look at her cloaca
But that was as far as I got.

Monday, April 16, 2018

2802. Disturbance in the force

For at least fifteen years, without fail,
Each weekend has brought "AWADmail"
I know I've been spoiled
By the way Anu's toiled,
Shame on those who've decided to rail.

For more than 20 years, Anu Garg, head wordsmith at A.Word.A.Day, has been emailing out a weekend newsletter with selected comments from readers.  As of 4:40 pm CST on Monday, 4/16 it has not yet been published.

I'll let you know when I hear why.  Hopefully, it isn't due to an illness or accident.

Saturday, April 14, 2018

2801. My colorful e-friend

I once met a woman named Claudia
Few women have acted much bawdia.
And with blue, mauve, and puce
Intermixed with chartreuse,
Her clothing could not have been gaudia.

Sunday, April 8, 2018

2800. N'Awlins ballin's

A Storyville hooker named Valerie
Liked to sip lemonade on her gallery
'Til a man came along;
Then she'd suck on his dong,
And fuck him right out of his salary.

Here's a picture of a wraparound gallery.  Click to enlarge.

Saturday, April 7, 2018

2799. An orthographical oops

Writing an email while watching The Masters golf tournament, I misspelled 'emperor' as emporer.  The recipient pointed out my flub and I wrote back, blaming it on my trying to simultaneously type and follow the golf.  She's from Atlantic City and replied with this syllogism:

Guys can’t multi-Tasso.
Phil is a guy.
Therefore Phil can’t multi-task.
(I'm guessing Tasso was an on-purpose misspelling of 'Task.')  Anyway, I replied,

I had not ever heard the word 'tasso'
So I used Google just like a lasso
Learned it's some cut of pork
(Is it said in New York?)
And this final line rhymes 'cause I sasso.

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

2798. But will the stepdown be a step up?

OU hired a new prez who's named "Gallogly"
It is time David left (though not all agree.)
Merit Scholars (thanks, Boren!)
Raised SAT scorin'
So step down with pride, not apology.

David Boren has served as president of The University of Oklahoma since 1994.  He had formerly served his state as governor and US Senator.

In Fall 2017, he announced a retirement date of June 2018 --- contingent on the hiring of a successor.

Under his leadership (and multiple times) OU attracted more National Merit Scholars than any other college, public or private.

Tuesday, March 27, 2018

2797. Shake and bake flake

An addict makes meth in a beaker
Of the best recipe he's a seeker
Each batch he does cook
Has a different look,
No wonder they call him a tweaker.

Monday, March 26, 2018

2796. AWAD for 3/26/18

A girl in the 'hood had cute sister eyes
On a date, one young homeboy had kissed her thighs
To avoid feeling louche
She concocted a douche
And then lib'rally used it to listerize.

Thursday, March 22, 2018

My foot! (It has changed)

I was president of my high school graduating class.  As such, I've kept its members in touch via email and reunions thru the years.

In 2014 I wrote a long, summary poem for our 50th reunion.  Its meter is trochaic rather than anap├Žstic and the lines per stanza are irregular, ranging from two to seven.

I hope you enjoy the nostalgia and the temporary break from 5-liners.

by Phil Graham, Ada, OK Class of 1964

Memories begin in ’50,
What a decade!  It was nifty!

No one had a TV set,
Too few stations on air yet.

We kept love birds in a cage,
On the radio, Patti Page,
Baby Snooks and Our Miss Brooks,
HiYo Silver, Dragnet’s crooks.

Ozzie and Harriet, David and Ricky,
Dime Dell comics, Donald and Mickey.

Movie serials, really thrillin!’ 
Lives saved thanks to penicillin.

Play yells of “Geronimo!”
Or “Bombs away over Tokyo!”

Telling Little Moron jokes,
Playing cards stuck in your spokes.

Friends with bunk or trundle beds,
Buster Browns and US Keds.

Milk in bottles on the stoop,
Could your yoyo loop-the-loop?
Join Cub Scout or Blue Bird troop.

Dick and Jane taught us to read
Once we caught on, it did lead
To Bobbsey Twins, the Hardys, too,
Cherry Ames and Nancy Drew.

Adjustable roller skates tightened with keys,
Holes in britches?  Mom patched knees.

Girls played jacks and boys spun tops,
Many backyards still raised crops.

Fast food joints were yet to come,
Dairy Queen™ sufficed for some
But served just ice cream for your tum.

Late in 1954,
Came a TV from the store!
Guess my dad was poor no more.

Bald Phil Silvers starred as “Bilko”
We watched on our 12” Philco™.
Mickey Mouse Club would arrive
Every weekday, four ‘til five.

Antenna required adjusting
Any time the wind was gusting
Shows were wholesome, zero lusting.

Petticoats of crinoline,
“The Thing” raised our adrenaline.

Nineteen-nine for gasoline
Every child got Salk Vaccine.

We advanced from, “Number, please”
To dialed digits with FE’s
Now those letters are two 3’s.

Rock ‘n Roll excited us
But scared our parents, made ‘em fuss
Meanwhile, some kids learned to cuss.

Sputnik caused much awe and fear,
Space Race found us in the rear
Fall-out shelters for the rich
Khruschev was a son-of-a-bitch.

’58 brought Junior High,
Scared to death but do not cry
All these new kids!  Will they like me? 
I’m so dorky, please, God, strike me!
Everyone thinks I’m a geek
(Truth be known, they’re just as meek.)

Football hero?  Johnny U.
Baseball?  Mantle, Campy, too.

Boys’ hair had lots of goop,
Everyone tried Hula Hoop™
45’s -- our choice in vinyl,
Buddy Holly’s flight was final
Elvis always topped the charts,
You weren’t cool if you liked arts.

Clearasil™ for all our zits,
Girls were shaving legs and pits
Maybelline™ went on their lashes,
Boys were running gym class dashes
Meant to combat hormone flashes.

Radio was now "Top 40"
Some kids started getting courty
Parent drove you on your date
Ten p.m. considered late
Didn’t want you ‘going steady,’
“Play the field until you’re ready.”

Cushman Eagles™ were the rage
Begged for one, my folks were sage,
“No!” insured that I would age.

Every Sunday we were churched
Other options were not searched
Lest the family name be smirched
So there in our pews we perched.

School dress code (to prevent sin?)
“Boys, your shirts should be tucked in
Girls, your skirts must reach the shin.”
Else they’d call your next-of-kin.

Girls all had black bucket purses
Large enough for tomes of verses
Shiny penny in your loafers
Office aides were used as gofers.

Blue jeans were a boy’s main pants
Worn except to church or dance
Just conform, don’t take a chance,
Later, they’d to slacks advance.

Football ruled Fall Friday nights
We aspired to reach the heights
Of being down there, under lights,
Cheering or in moleskin tights.

Autumn of our ninth grade year
Nixon sweated, seemed to sneer
Debating, JFK kicked rear.

Classes now not always easy,
Algebra made many queasy
Cafeteria rarely pleasy
Some sneaked off for lunches greasy.

Junior High School years were ending
We were ‘Freshmen,’ soon ascending
To our final years of tending.

Sophomore school year tried your soul
Back to bottom of totem pole
Popularity still the goal.

Mostly filled with purity,
We verged on maturity
But we lacked security
For when you cannot drive a car
You are stuck right where you are
And turning sixteen seemed so far…

World History, Leif the Viking,
Frog-dissecting few were liking
New Math had us all quite puzzled
Between classes, lovers nuzzled.

Old enough?  Took Driver’s Ed
Finally, you got “street cred”
Walking?  Rather be caught dead!

Junior year arrived and went
Dragging Main is how we spent
Many nights – don’t get a dent
In the car your daddy lent.

Braved the Cuban Missile Crisis
No inflation, real low prices
Smoking was among our vices.

Chubby Checker did The Twist
James Bond came and topped the list
Of movies that should not be missed.

Motown girl groups sang in trios,
Boys shot snooker out at Leo’s.
While we learned vulgarity,
Negroes marched for parity.

Summer brought Bermuda shorts
We’d cruise by the tennis courts
Some (I heard) drank liquor snorts!

“Runaway” and “Walk, Don’t Run”
Beachboys sang of surfin’ fun
One more school year ‘til we’re done.

Seniors finally!  Weren’t we cool?
Some were picking college school
Others knew a job would rule
To keep from being called a fool.

On November 22nd
Future bright no longer beckoned
How can we forget the day
That Oswald murdered JFK?
All the U.S. wore a frown,
Camelot had been brought down.

Three months later, naught seemed tragic,
Liverpool lads brought their magic
What chord changes!  First time ever
Rock and roll had been so clever
Some folks focused on their hair
We knew so much more was there.

Late in May, the day arrived,
That which for twelve years we’d strived
Wait!  Should that verb form be “striven?”
Oh, don’t sweat it, you’ve been driven
Hard enough, now just relax,
Enjoy the moment to the max.

Mortar board hat, flip your tassel,
Yes, it was worth all the hassle!

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

2795. Staff decision

There once was a woman named Judith
Who was forced to stop being a nudith
Said the camp's judge and juror,
"You're causing a furor
'Cause when you walk by, guys protrudeth."

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

2794. Two "swell" guys

Seems like ev'ry day Trump has to twitter us
His sparring with Jong-un does jitter us
A war seems ignitable.
Like organs excitable
Our guy is a prick, theirs a clitoris.

Monday, March 19, 2018

PD348. From a new reader

Michigan friend Bob Webb supplied this one:
I'll always remember when Fred
Found me screwing his wife in their bed.
I was too pooped to run
When he went for his gun
Which is why, for ten years, I've been dead!

I'm reminded of the definition of savoir faire.  That's when your best friend finds you in bed with his wife and says, "Go ahead and finish."  And you can.

Thursday, March 15, 2018

2793. Trump's unstable stable

This week Don's staff went through more shake up
Which the press had no reason to fake up
The total's now twenty
Who've left, that's a plenty!
These happenings you cannot make up.

Monday, March 12, 2018

2792. Blue balls I understand, but pink?

There once was a homo factotum
Possessed of a real itchy scrotum
This jack-of-all-trades
From the tribe of gay blades
In some calamine lotion did float 'em.

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

2791. Stool before school

A teen-aged boy went in the loo
For to do what all horny guys do.
Mom called out in voice humming,
"It's school time, you coming?"
"I am... just a sec, almost through."