There are strange things done by conservative sons
As they scrabble and scrape for gold;
The blogosphere’s links are full-up with dinks
Who’ll worry their mother’s not sold;
The NRO’s Corner has liberal scorners,
But the dumbest they have on their roster*
Is the tubby green fright who smokes just for spite
The knee-jerker Daniel Foster.
*Good rhyme, but it just can't be true.
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11 comments:
That's like my fav poem ever.
The original...
but..uh.. yours is nice, too.
It was Veterans Day as we made our way over the Intar-tubes
Words from the dumb, they seem to come like sweat off of hairy moobs.
If the links we click, it would make us sick, with idjits screaming "No Quarter!"
So I made a note, stay in the boat and Always Trust The Shorter.
Good ol' Dan was a ranting man, he rants at NRO
About nanny states, his lack of dates and a prez named Barry O
And Muslims and Gays and all the ways society Accepts the Other
Daniel son, it sure was fun, last night when I fucked your mother.
I seem to recall mikey informing us that he has never Kipled.
I think Subby went with the one Robert Service poem that everyone knows because it's about a guy named SMcG.
Personally, I much prefer Jock MacPherson.
I hope Daniel Foster sees it.
~
Collins has noticed glowing, semitransparent light orbs in a series of photos he took at the Alamo. "It's paranormal energy," he explains, nothing that a psychic recently told him he fought at the fort in a previous lifetime. "I don't want to sound like a weirdo. I'm not Shirley MacLaine, but I'm prepared to believe. You've seen the pictures. You can't deny them, so therefore it's possible that I was there in another life."
Boy, that Phil Collins article is sad.
most of his time is now spent working on his gigantic collection of artifacts from the Alamo
Well.
Just because I don't understand what Phil Collins is thinking, doesn't mean that I want to find out any more.
Do you like Kipling, Miss Scarlet?
Sure, I'll eat anything
Kipple? Don't mind if I do:
You may talk o’Sailor Jerry’s
‘Anging out amongst the fairies
And you’re sent to penny fights wit’ apologists
But when it comes to smokin'
Liberals nanny state is broken
An’ I'll lick the bloomin’ boots of the oncologists
I'd like to call him Chunky Jonah Goldberg, but … somehow …
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