#pants
here's what it taught me about B2B SaaS sales.
1. poopy pants stinky
2. peoplw no like stinky man
3. no like stinky man = stinky man cant sell SaaS
solution: dont **** pantz
Oct 27, 2024
Oct 27, 2024 at 12:02 AM UTC
UH OH!!
you were
TAKEN BY SUPRISE.
We can't BELIEVE
our EARS,
or WHAT we
just seen with
our own EYES.
We know WHAT
they SAID, and
WE know
what we HEARD.
YOU were
CAUGHT WITH
YOUR PANTS DOWN,
and we didn't
hear this from
NO LITTLE BIRD.
You were
CAUGHT WITH
YOUR PANTS DOWN,
don't try to DUCK AND HIDE,
We know ALL about you so,
don't act ALL SUPRISED!!
WE KNOW ALL OF YOUR SECRETS,
Your BUSINESS is
OUT THERE NOW!!
SO, DON'T TRY TO COVER UP,
Just stand there,
and TAKE A BOW!!
Your PERSONAL BUSINESS is
like a BIG SHOW!!!
You are known
ALL AROUND, and
everywhere YOU GO!!!
People be KNOWING
WHO YOU ARE!!
your PERSONAL BUSINESS
just made you
a 🌟BIG STAR!!!🌟
You are SO BIG,
Like in ENTERTAINMENT,
POPPERAZZI is
CHASING YOU,
Even your HOME is
NO CONTAINMENT!!!
Its like YOU'RE in the
ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY,
You are no longer a MYSTERY,
IT'S BEEN SOLVED,
your LIFE is DISSOLVED.
ALL BECAUSE YOU WERE
CAUGHT WITH YOUR PANTS DOWN!!!
B.R.
Date: 07/9/2023
Aug 24, 2024
Aug 24, 2024 at 1:34 PM UTC
"Dry Clean Linen Pants"
A note, a promise
a then-future, now-past version of someone I wanted
to be.
it all seems so silly now
dry cleaning and linen pants belong to generation I haven't grown
into
these things belong in the routine of my grandmother, muttering her to-do list as she wakes. A woman of rhythm.
a note on a whiteboard underneath the word "thursday"
it reads: *dry clean linen pants
more of a promise
to take care of yourself
or at the very least
maintain your
armor.
Nov 29, 2023
Nov 29, 2023 at 5:17 PM UTC
The traveler's wife?
I get it! You showed
that movie in the
magazine pages
long before the movie
came out
Pt, I finally did
watch it each time it rains
and when the sun shines
i search for you still;
shoes shirt and pants on hand
place them behind the bushes
in search of you and amidst
pine tree branches too
thinking of you dearest
darling
How i love you.
Not a day goes by
I do not seek you.
Please don't go hunting
but if you do I shall run
to hug you beg you to stay
traveler dearest
twin soul divine.
I love you.
~~~~
By: Karijinbba
And Mrs and Mrs Andrews.
Jan 14, 2024
Jan 14, 2024 at 9:02 AM UTC
Patience, fate
Trees and treasures of kind
The tale of inclined sate
Has a sunny disposition, as if time
Care for a threshold of dissuasion another day?
Real regret, is the purpose behind our musings
Anger and delves of uniqueness, are to begin with may
A choice of shoulders, save itself for what patience looses...
Salt, is a final run to safety, a hug in the wind?
Curious speed, the irony of candor, to exist
Bred upon balance and the common, the tone of a new voice
That was a care, the towardness of you, an embarrassed list...
With no man's land, came the wish of potential
Sulking and denoted to be, the vice of remembering
The otherwise certain specific, the tongue of quintessential
Looks of responsibility for a question to guidance, sometimes humbling...
Will you marry me?
Places of blossoms, and the callous through and due, today
Of a quiet simplicity, for the anecdote of when boding is anarchy
Isn't a world of itself, the only reason a challenged voice, was anyway?
Persist and pout
The devil and the deed of the bluesy's...
Right to contain and contemplate another good intent, shout
Upon a caring rainbow found in the mere, all more, and me...
Oct 12, 2022
Oct 12, 2022 at 10:24 PM UTC
I bought these designer pants yesterday,
Endorsed by all the gram influencers,
They are slimming they all gushed.
The pants are made of the softest wool,
Designed to cocoon and insulate you,
Protect you from all the judgement.
They have pretend pockets stitched in,
Because what could you possibly put in them,
That’s more important than looking thin?
Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 6:56 PM UTC
"red pants
burning bottom
soft cream prescription."
"pantalonasi rosii foc
dos colorat
prescriem crema."
"les pantalons rouges
quel bel cul ardent
douce creme prescrite."
Jan 22, 2021
Jan 22, 2021 at 5:17 AM UTC
It’s quite alright that
The Wookiee has no pants
Neither do most of us
In our video chats
Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 1:34 PM UTC
I
I celebrate my pants, and sing my pants,
And what I wear you shall wear,
For every thread belonging to me as good belongs to you.
II
I saw the best pants of my generation destroyed by madness, bleaching faded skinny,
dragging themselves through the crowded malls at noon looking for the perfect selfie,
man-bunned hipsters burning for the contemporary digital connection to the social dynamo in the machinery of online relevance
III
Let us go Pants, you and I,
With evening wash spread out against the sky
Like a ghost dancing upon the breeze;
Let us go, through certain half-full baskets,
The smelly caskets
Of unwashed trousers from one-week neglected hampers.
IV
Something there is that doesn't love my pants,
That sends the frayed-torn-cuffs under it,
And spills my muffin top in the sun;
And makes love handles even two can hold to love.
V
I have stolen
the pants
that were in
the dressing room
and which
you were probably
wearing
for a party
Forgive me
they were comfy
so soft
and so stylish
VI
Because I could not fit my Pants –
I kindly split the Seam –
The Problem is quite obvious –
I need some stronger Jeans.
VII
The patterns on your pants
Could make a designer cry;
But I hung on to your stance:
Plaid boldly with tie-dye.
VIII
Call the maker of big pants,
The fabulous one, and bid him zip
In seamstress studs sumptuous sewing.
IX
What happens to lost pants?
Do they stiffen up
like paper as it dries?
Or do they balloon up —
and into the sky rise?
X
I bought some tremendous pants
and held them beside the cart
half off the hanger, with the hook
fast in the belt loop around the waist.
There was no fight.
No one had fought at all.
They hung a defeated weight,
overlooked and spurned.
Jan 13, 2020
Jan 13, 2020 at 4:51 PM UTC
I got me a Kangaroo
Lives way down in my pants
He seldom sits quiet
He'd rather get up and dance.
He goes Bo-ing! Boing! Boing!
I can't get him stopped
He's always on the go
Yea! he's always on the hop.
II
Well, he ain't no Dodo
He sure knows how to pogo
Even when I say no! no!
He keeps on on the go! go!
(Bit of a yo-yo)
And when he's full of vim
There's no catching him
I only hope my pants hold out
And he don't pop out.
III
Now how can I put forward
My Best face
When I got him down there
Bouncing all over the place.
He's up, then he's down
Then he's back up again
Up and down all day
Like a demented drawbridge.
IV
He goes Bo-ing! Boing! Boing!
And I go Down! Down! Down!
Whoa-aa Boy!
I go one way
While he goes the other
Man! he's tearing me asunder
I'm every which way.
My mind full of insecurities & fears
And my Kangaroo down there
He's looking up at me saying
What the hell are you doing up there.
V
O! what am I going to do
With my wild Kangaroo,
What am I going to do !!!
What! Get him a didgeridoo ???
(A didgeri-didgeri-doo!)
Have you got a Kangaroo
Down in your pants ?
"Ooooo! Whoo!" sang the girls
"yes! we Dooo Whooo!!!"
What! Wait a minute, you mean...
You mean girls, they got Kangaroos too !!!
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 6:16 PM UTC
"montana-says-yoga-pants-illegal" Look up on Yahoo
we got quite the stash,
under the illegal grass,
in our hidden home,
bring 'em out when
it's just the two of us,
looking to get exercised
o'course we have secret codes,
(yogurt slackers)
never call 'em by their real name
in public,
lest we get sent by drone
to the new
orange and black jail
when we be feeling
risky-frisky,
under our coats
we wear 'em semi-publicly,
but to blend in,
we only buy black,
seeing as we live
in new york seeity,
where we reside,
black be the only
legal color for approved
illegal street walking
never when we travel domestically
in case we get busted,
don't want to face
federal interstate charges
of inciting others to riot sensationally!
this land is not my land,
maybe it is yours,
but if you come alooking
for us, we got a cabin
in the deep words,
where we practice
dress code freedom,
no ties, shirts untucked,
navel (oranges) fully exposed,
button down shirts always unbuttoned,
(my high school days
revolutionary first strike)
hoping to escape
the idiots we
place above us
to "govern"
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 4:34 PM UTC
- Nice to meet you.
- No, nice to meet you.
- Who invited you?
- The Crow.
- And you?
- My boss.
- Hmmm...
- Why?
- I was just wondering if,
by any chance,
you knew how to hunt rabbits.
- No, but I know how to follow orders
and shut up.
- Well, good for you!
I'll rather be black and fear the light,
then blue and having nothing to do.
- What?
- I was just talking about colors.
What is your favorite color?
- Grey.
- I thought so...
- Why?
- Because you're wearing pants.
- !?
You are not making any sense!
- I know.
Goodnight said the bird of pray
before disappearing behind the shiny yellow curtain.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 7:48 AM UTC
i sat in my mother's truck for the first time in a week
his hair covered the cab seats
and stuck to my pants
i noticed his collar on the dash
'MILES'
all dogs die
but maybe they go to heaven
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 10:11 AM UTC
Lately I have conversations with the devil in pants
She was beauty , *** on a stand
She had gold in her hands
Blood in her eyes
She would make me a tempting offer
You can have all that is mine
I turned down her offer
Walked away a quarter to nine.
Lately I have conversations with the devil in pants.
She invited me for dinner
I did suit up on time
A little over dressed, roses in my hands.
I sat at a corner , took up a carving knife
Of course I couldn't trust her
A grin on her face when she poured me a glass.
Now me and the devil had a dance
Each time I try to leave my body held me back.
Tic tock the clock would tick.
I was supposed to leave.
Looked up, clock would read a quarter past nine.
Now I look at the mirror
I see gold in my hands
Blood in my eyes.
I am the devil in pants......kazer 2018
Tm-Narcissus...Tm-beast... Tm-god.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 2:16 AM UTC
I have new pants
They’re a joy to behold
Such a perfect fit
And the colour had me sold
I braved the shops
Conversed with fake ladies
I hate it so much
I’d rather go to Hades
But the God of Shopping
Smiled down at my endeavour
Said have some lovely pants
I hope they last forever!
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 4:05 PM UTC
U.S. Congressmen
getting caught
with their pants
down
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 8:34 PM UTC
i pull up my pants -
leg, leg, zipper,
buckle
.
the room heaves with me ,
a breath released
and a mind
unclear :
.
i don't know if
he made me bleed,
i don't know if he
even
would .
.
.
the sky looks yellow
as he walks me home,
but it's not:
it's blue
and the wind stings my
cheeks
.
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC
I've seen rabbits that do it, in France
I've seen birds that do it, in dance
But nohow and nowhere
Have I seen it there
Her party that happens, sans pants
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 11:25 AM UTC
I didn't get my coffee this morn
I forgot to set it last night
I didn't get my coffee this morn
I'm not awake, and things just aren't right
I didn't get my coffee this morn
I've made mistakes, and major faux pas
I should have had my coffee this morn
as now, I'm getting some looks, and some "ahhs"
I should have had my coffee this morn
I put on my shirt and my socks
I really needed my coffee this morn
no underwear and no pants
exposed are my Johnson
and rocks
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 9:27 AM UTC
I left
immaculately folded tan chino pants
cuffed and disheveled
atop the department store rack
in the Young Men’s section.
They were too big at the waist,
letting me swim laps in them,
stretching out the front with a thumb and forefinger
looking like a successful weight loss ad.
Atop the rack they sat,
cuffed and disheveled,
amongst immaculately folded
tan chino pants
its kin
and they looked human.
Something about them,
factory made, dime a dozen,
not on sale,
but with the spectral imprint
of spaces and wrinkles where legs had been
amongst all those patient, forlorn folds
gave humanity
to the anomaly.
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
Liar, Liar,
Pants on fire,
You are a naughty liar, man,
When did you care for a woman?
Don't say you're my friend, liar,
No wonder your pants are on fire!
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 3:25 PM UTC
I’ve got those pants which used to hug my legs very tightly, some time ago
They were warm and comfortable and they’d snuggle up to each other
But today exact these same pants refused to recognize my legs
They started to let go of them
They observe them now, from a distance, and give them a strange look
They’re scared to touch my legs
They’re scared of those cold and sharp bones
Scared of the blue skin and of my fine hair on them
Bones cold and sharp, which used to be my legs, have become crutches
But they work
Bones, cold and sharp, which might snap in half with every movement
But still they’re whole
And like ghosts, invisible, I walk with those crutches through the hallway
Cross the streets of my hometown
And go for a run every now and then
I get past windows that show no reflection
Past people who look at me in disgust
And when I’m home, the pants slip off by themselves
So that I stand here, naked and barefoot and exposed without any cloth
Only to lift those cold and sharp bones one more time
To make a step forward
Onto a scale which will measure my self-worth in kilograms and make my bony knees wobbly again
Because suddenly, the pants fit again, suffocating my legs with their tightness.
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 10:08 AM UTC