Today's poems [6.15.07]

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There was an old maid in Van Nuys 
               Who went crazy from making mud pies. 
                    She would fill them with farts 
                    And pickled beef-hearts, 
               And bake them between her fierce thighs. 

Something  --  by Beatles
---------
Something in the way it fails,
Defies the algorithm's logic!
Something in the way it coredumps...

I don't want to leave it now
I'll fix this problem somehow

Somewhere in the memory I know,
A pointer's got to be corrupted.
Stepping in the debugger will show me...

I don't want to leave it now
I'm too close to leave it now

You're asking me can this code go?
I don't know, I don't know...
What sequence causes it to blow?
I don't know, I don't know...

Something in the initializing code?
And all I have to do is think of it!
Something in the listing will show me...

I don't want to leave it now
I'll fix this tonight I vow!

There was a young lady named Alice,
Who used dynamite for a phallus.
They found her vagina
In North Carolina,
And part of her asshole in Dallas.

The Night Before Christmas



Twas the night before Christmas, 
And all through the house, 
Everybody felt shitty, 
Even the mouse.

With mom at the whore house
And Dad smoking grass,
I'd just settled down 
For a nice piece of ass.

When out on the lawn 
I heard such a clatter,
I sprung from my piece
To see what was the matter.

Then out on the lawn,
I saw a big dick,
And I knew in a moment
That it must be Saint Nick.

He came down the chimney 
Like a bat out of hell,
And I knew right away
That the fucker had fell.

He filled all our stockings 
With pretzels and beer,
And a big rubber dick
For my brother, the queer.

He rose up the chimney
With a thunderous fart; 
The damn son of a bitch
Blew the chimney apart!

He swore and he cursed,
As he rode out of sight,
"Piss on you all,
And have a hell of a night!"

Father



 Father, don't I have to work?
 No, my lucky son.
 We're living now on Easy Street,
 on dough from Washington.

 We've left things up to Uncle Sam,
 so don't get exercised.
 No-one has to give a damn.
 We've all been subsidized!

 But if Sam treats us all so well,
 and feeds us milk and honey,
 please, Daddy, tell me what the hell
 He's going to do for money?

 Don't worry, Bub, there's not a hitch
 in this-here noble plan.
 We merely soak the Filthy Rich
 and feed the Common Man.

 But, Daddy, won't there come a time
 when they'll run out of cash?
 And we'll have left, then, not a dime
 and things will go to smash?!

 My faith in you is shrinking, son,
 you nosey little brat!
 You do too damned much thinking, son,
 to be a Democrat!

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