Oh come sweet Five thirty!
So I may traipse off home
instead of penning a dirty
'I fucked Jeff's mummy' pome

For far I long to wander
from this air-conditioned hell
Myth Busters, mayhap, to ponder
put my feet up for a spell

At home, perhaps, is lovely beer
and maybe fish and chips
While here, alas, it is so drear
just tea I drink in sips

At least a minute I can waste
In writing awful verse
with rhyme-scheme bad and lacking taste
and scansion getting worse
( CQ Knows the truth, all of it., Fri 27 Apr 2012, 16:35, 1 reply, 13 years ago)

What's with all this Jeff hate?
*sobs*
( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Fri 27 Apr 2012, 16:37, Reply)

You pooch-pounding loon
Don't be a buffoon
you mum I've not had
no need to be sad

I'm just mucking about
let there be no doubt
We remain bestest friends
I hope any enmity ends.
( CQ Knows the truth, all of it., Fri 27 Apr 2012, 16:43, Reply)

You stood on a bridge at midnight
Your legs, they started to quiver.
You gave a cough,
Your 'tache fell off,
And floated down the river.
( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Fri 27 Apr 2012, 16:47, Reply)

There was a young man called "Jeff"
What Roota would call a meff
quite quick with a pun
which wasn't much fun
it quite made you wish you were deaf.
( CQ Knows the truth, all of it., Fri 27 Apr 2012, 16:51, Reply)

Do you read with your ears?

( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Fri 27 Apr 2012, 16:52, Reply)

...and sing everything you see

(Quintno EXPERIMENT RUINED CANCELLED, LEFT 4EVER, Fri 27 Apr 2012, 16:54, Reply)

Not much rhymes with your name
for poetry this is a shame
But I do my best
as all can attest
Can anyone else say the same?
( CQ Knows the truth, all of it., Fri 27 Apr 2012, 16:56, Reply)