Rhyming rant of the week
It's Thursday morning and I'm stuck at work,
All too cheerfully greeted by the office jerk,
As he gets on with his tasks with a terrifying glee,
I'm desperately seeking something to occupy me.

With a shifty glance towards the bosses door,
And a fervent prayer against the dreaded 404,
All the while pretending to colleagues I'm making my desk a little neater,
My browser is directed to the QOTW at B3ta.

What wonders will await me there this week? I ponder,
What has Legless done now that'll help my mind to wander?
Can I shoehorn one of my unfunny tales to fit?
Or am I edging ever closer to being a boring old shit?

I hope against hope it'll be more funny names,
The hilarity of Cobbity Jobbins never wanes,
And so what if some of the stuff is a little made up?
It's better than, again, washing my coffee cup.

Not that the boss ever notices my work avoidance ploys,
He's always too busy with his executive toys,
I might work harder if they paid me alright,
Okay, its bollocks, I'd read b3ta till I went home at night.

But still you'd think he'd be more on the ball,
I mean, how tidy can a desk really get, is all,
Yet I digress; let's get back to the board,
Where the drunken disaster posts always strike a chord.

Okay its not perfect and some things just grate,
Like the urban legends that 'happened to a mate',
People write 'this isn't funny' then post instead of giving it a miss,
And still they believe we'll click on 'I like this.'

The van that played music when the ice cream ran out,
Bloody Loogabarooga and length/girth jokes that shout,
That you're making up for something cause you're world doesn't rock,
But for Christ's sake you didn't get chilli on your cock!

But I'm always certain this weeks question will be a blast,
Yet Teenage Poetry, I read out, aghast,
Is that bugger of a God setting me some kind of test?
To survive at work with B3ta not at it's best?

I hit refresh and hope my eyes had gone shitty,
But it still won't go away, more's the pity,
A quick check of the calendar, its not April the first,
And now I read Legless, doing his worst.

Where are the funnies? I need to shirk!
Oh dear holy Christ, I may have to work!
So the only way to relieve my boredom, I curse,
Is to half arsedly join in with my own little verse.

To plead with the overlords to make next week better,
To you lot as well as the de facto question setter,
For months on end you've asked us to suggest a topic,
We did so, now pick one, please Mr. Chthonic!
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Fri 12 Aug 2005, 11:46, Reply)