"burgers" poems
I broke up with McDonalds
On Valentine's day
People said she was no good for me
I had to get away
So I told her, It's not you,
It's just a phase I'm going through
But as we all know -
Dumping fast food is not a pleasant thing to do.
So I broke up with McDonalds, didn't see her for a while
Was doing pretty well - there was the occasional drunk-dial
When I walked up to the window
And I slipped into the queue -
But then I came back to my senses
And realised the thing to do...
Was to keep on walking
Keep on walking
Right past her
Ignore the temptation
To suckle
On those golden arches
Ignore those bed-like burgers
And those oh-so-easy fries
Divide our shared world up
And sever all ties!
Yes! I broke up with McDonalds and my life is better for it
When my girlfriend serves up rabbit food I simply adore it
I was scared of life alone with no kebab to walk me home
But...
What I once spent on burgers...
I now spend on...
Haribo!
Oh Haribo! Haribo!
You are a fruit tree in a sack
And although it feels wrong to see you
Behind my girlfriend's back
She can not be hurt by wrongs she does not know!
No - the new love of my life is Haribo, oh Haribo!
But then one evening after work
My girfriend came home early.
Caught me curled up on the couch
Soaking up her girly
DVDs
In front of me
A bowl of
Not nuts, nor seeds...
But fizzy, yes fizzy,
Cola bottles
That were
FIZZY!
How could you do this?
My girlfriend screamed at me.
Cannot you see the damage that they do-eth to your teeth?
(She'd been reading Shakespeare)
No, my eyes are on my face, I can't see in my mouth.
Right, she said, If you think I'm joking then I'm going to kick you out.
So she kicked me out the flat and that was that she said.
Not quite...
I grabbed my stash of Haribo from underneath the bed.
I told her all the things about her that I really hated
And the moral is:
Relationships with things that you can't eat are over-rated.
Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 2:52 PM UTC
Mark A. Williams
SEPTEMBER 14, 1962 – JULY 23, 2018
___________________________________________________________
Wow Mark,
Was so, so saddened to hear this news. I haven't seen you in over ten years, but as kids, we had some amazing adventures, didn't we? Partying, camping and swimming at the Hudson lime pits. Mowing down on Pizza and pitchers of Pepsi (and as we grew up, BEER!) at Pizza Hut. (We knew the numbers to ALL the songs on that jukebox by heart!) Hanging out and looking at the stars through Budvido's telescope, listening to Doctor Demento. Laughing hysterically as we ran through Monty Python skits as everyone looked on in total puzzlement because THEY wouldn't discover them until YEARS later!
Building underground forts in the North Woods. You, Budvido, Zeke and I playing pinball at 7-11 for hours and hours. Watching Bands, chasing girls and playing Foosball or Pool at the Touch of Class Teen Club. You gave me my first Imported beer . . . a Lowenbrau. I will always owe my passion for those German beers to you and it was fitting that Budvido bestowed you with that moniker.
All through Jr. High, sharing a seat on the school bus. You, Matt, Tom, Buddy and I cruising around late night on our bikes for hours. Hanging around in the Jasmine Lakes sign with hijacked beer or getting free bags of Burgers from Burger Queen when they closed at night! Jousting with shopping carts on our bikes in the Winn-Dixie parking lot. Sitting up all night in Jimi's room after climbing in through the window or going on endless space cruises with him and Raymond in the Toyota.
(RIP Jimi Carlsen)
Sneaking into the nudest Colony and skinny dipping! Always cracking up at the school lunch table. Swimming in my pool and terrorizing my sister and her friends. (Allegedly) Trashing that crook Fast Eddie's produce stand after he refused to pay us for a full day of picking watermelons!
Good times, indeed . . . Some of my most precious memories.
I can only pray that you know that I wouldn't trade my youth or you in it for anything in the world and you will be sadly missed, Lowenbrau, my old friend.
I hope that where you are, your beers are ice cold and that you and Jimi aren't having to glue the Hookah back together.
Jeff Gaines
July 28, 2018
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 7:00 AM UTC
Let me apologize, to begin with because of my body type.
I will NEVER be good enough for anyone to date due to current 'hype.'
You know, the battle of 'bones' vs curves?
Just let me inflate myself to the right number so I can properly serve
As the perfect specimen for your delicate eyes.
Obviously no one is good enough unless they've got decent thighs.
But just wait a god **** minute, because here I am again:
So let me apologize, to begin with, if I offend
You or your friends who think they're too good
To date someone size zero with some extra love under the hood.
How many times have I heard you exclaim in disgust
Of how large she is and how you'd drown in her,
If you even got near her? I saw you shaking in fear.
From your head to your toes, you were trembling dear.
See I'm told to eat less and maybe, just maybe
But if I was skinny, and let's tell the truth,
You'd be so disgusted by my looks .
I could eat a salad and still gain a pound ,
She could eat a salad and the crunch is the only sound
You hear a mile away and yet you would assume
That burgers and French fries is all that she consumed.
Do you ever stop to think, ladies and gents?
The true beauty of someone isn't based on the number on their pants.
So, let me apologize, to begin with,
If I bruise your massive ego,
But the way to tell if she's the perfect woman is not by your libido
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 1:12 AM UTC
A long, long time ago, I can still remember when,
Junk food made me smile,
And I knew if had my chance,
That I could make my fatness dance,
And maybe I was happy for a while.
But McDonald's made me shiver,
With every burger they'd deliver,
Bad news on their doorstep,
I couldn't take one more step.
I can't remember if I cried,
When I passed size twenty-five,
But something touched me deep inside,
The day I knocked back obesity fries,
CHORUS.
So, bye, bye McDonald's French fries,
Drove my chevy away from McDonald's,
didn't have a bevy,
I said goodbye to whiskey and rye,
Singing no more apple pies,
That's the end of obesity fries.....
Did you go to McDonald's biomes?
Did you know you're changing your genomes?
Eating all those pesticides?
Now do believe they love you, guys?
Might as well eat dead flies!
And can you change evolution in real time?
Well, I know you're addicted to them,
You'll need more than treadmills in the gym,
Now can't even put on your shoes,
Man, you'll dig the obesity blues,
CHORUS.
I was an obese teenage bronco buck.
Driving to McDonald's in a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck,
The day I ate landfill in those French fries...
I started singing bye, bye obesity fries,
Drove my chevy, had no bevies,
And the burgers were dry,
This is the day I knock back French fries.
CHORUS.
I met a girl who sang the blues,
She'd passed turning size twenty-two,
I asked her if she ate junk food too,
She just smiled and drove away,
I drove down to the store no more,
Where I ate additives years before,
But the junk food store didn't care anyway...
CHORUS
CHORUS....
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
This was just published so it is copyright 2015 by Holy Cow Press ~ mce
Poverty is the fence around your life. Poverty wakes you up at 4 AM only to whisper meaningless slogans in your ear. It is the school of Piranha nibbling at the back of your brain. It is two hours waiting in the anteroom of despair for $22 worth of food stamps and being glad to be there. It is changing your phone number frequently because bill collectors are such boring conversationalists. It is the empty space your heels used to fill. It is letting your hair grow long and scraggly and your grizzled beard sprout because you know that although you sleep in rented rooms tonight, the street is not far off, and you want to fit in when you arrive. Poverty scalds the lint from your pockets. It is your private Treblinka within which you rage but are crushed. It is desperate prayers against dental catastrophes, blown tires, surprises of any sort. Poverty is when everything you own is frayed including your nerves from sleepless moments spent trying to solve the equation that will make X number of dollars cover X + ? number of bills, knowing that such math would defeat Newton or Einstein. Poverty is eying the cat's kibble imagining that with a bit of sugar and a splash of milk it might be fine and then eyeballing the cat himself thinking of protein of last resort and trying not to measure him against the microwave door. You ration your cigarettes; whiskey is a fading memory. Passing a diner on the street, you catch a whiff of burgers too expensive to consider and experience a Pavlovian moment. Poverty is trying to keep your head up and then remembering you pawned your neck. Poverty is watching the needle eat your last few gallons of gas. Poverty is the archeology of despair. It portends the death of irony. There is nothing ironic about a car with 217,000 miles and no insurance on it. Facts are facts in the world of poverty. Poverty is the last quarter reclaimed from beneath the cushions. It is too much time and not enough quarters. It is the specious logic of the self-righteous proclaiming that you deserve to be poor because you are, which in Amerika passes for wisdom. Poverty makes each day like the next because nothing does not vary. It is who you are and where you are going, although you won't get far. It is the life you lead inside the fence. It is the sum of what you lack. It just is.
- mce
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC
I went to the Cordon Bleu
And my name is Pierre
I work in the kitchen
I’m a French chef extraordinaire
With fine French food
My name is synonymous
But I am an addict
I attend McDonalds Anonymous
When I make a quiche
I just want to hug it
But I keep getting cravings
For a Chicken McNugget
Fast food or French food
I am conflicted
Fast food or French food
Yes I am addicted
The 12-step program
Keeps me on track
I have to fight my desire
To binge on Big Mac
I pretend I’m a food snob
My life’s full of lies
When I buy burgers
I must wear a disguise
I should come out of the closet
Admit my transgressions
Then they would accept me
For my fast food obsessions
Maybe the other chefs
Would heap me with praise
If I smothered my Big Macs
With Sauce Hollandaise
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 10:07 PM UTC
Little bits of litter blowing everywhere,
Is it that we are carless? Or maybe we don’t care.
Bags and bottles ******* of every kind,
A simple picnic our ******* left behind.
Bottles of all sizes floating on the pond,
If left on the beach will travel far beyond.
Polystyrene boxes used for burgers or chips,
Are float on our ponds like little litter ships.
But worst of all the dreaded carrier bag,
Hang from wires and trees like a kind of flag.
Just to make sure we spread it far and wide,
Cars are used to carry debris to the countryside.
Now that we have spread it from coast to coast,
We are a famous nation because we litter most.
Fish and chips were sold wrapped in newspaper,
You could say part of a natural recycling scheme.
Pop was bought in bottles with a paid deposit,
Kiddies for pocket money collected to redeem.
Litter is not pretty it will not go away,
Soon we will have nowhere clean to play.
Maybe if we learn to take our litter home again,
We would see the trees and flowers,
Down our English country lane.
Jul 26, 2011
Jul 26, 2011 at 12:25 AM UTC
“Exams are important don’t let anyone try to convince you otherwise. People will try telling you that they don’t matter in the great scheme of things
“There is more to life than exams Lisa. It isn’t the end of the world if you don’t obtain the grades to get into university” mum said.
This is all ******** I’ve no intention of spending my life flipping burgers in some crummy burger bar. Do you know they have the cheek to call these places restaurants?! Problem is strictly between you and I, you won’t let it go any further will you? Promise, cross your heart and hope to die? Well as you only have my first name and it would be impossible to trace me I’ll let you into a little secret. The truth is that I am not academically gifted. Don’t get me wrong I try. No one tries harder than me. I’ve spent weekends huddled over my books cramming for my exams, “Lisa no mates that’s me” but it goes in one ear and comes out the other. I just can’t remember things, head like a sieve thats me!
Well here I am now in my room at uni. You should have seen my mum’s face when I got the grades. There she stood her mouth gaping open like a stranded fish. Quite comical really. Did I say that all my hard work paid off? Well it wasn’t that difficult for an 18-year-old bomb shell like me to ****** the head master and get my hands on the exam papers prior to the examination. Perhaps academic qualifications aren’t everything after all”.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 9:11 AM UTC
The tavern roof was smokey
with a pall of blueish ash.
The juke box was a- booming
as it played "The Monster Mash".
A giant puffed a burning witch
whilst smoke rings he exhaled....
While victims of our neighbor,
Vlad...on stakes were all impaled.
The Faceless Man was grinning...
from ear to missing ear.
The hanged man turned his twisted neck
to sip a mug of beer.
The Headless Horseman shouted
for an aspirin or three.
He popped them down his gullet
where his head was meant to be.
The zombies waited tables
and the werewolf tended bar.
Mothra was the carhop
and took orders car to car.
Godzilla worked the griddle
and served burgers ala carte.
Dracula complained about the steak
caught in his heart.
Ghosts and ghouls were dancing
with abandon on the stage
While cyborgs did "the robot"
'cause they thought it was the rage.
The mummy came unraveled
as we took him for a "spin"
As Frankenstein played tuba
to contribute to the din.
Igor brought "the monster"
and then Freddie brought his claw.
Jason brought his butcher knife
and his buddy from "The Saw".
The guillotine was working
and the raven refereed
So nevermore would pardons
be
allowed to intercede.
The pendulum was swinging
to the beating of my heart.
I hoped that I would wake up soon...
then did so...with a START!
Halloween is coming. So, I guess
I should prepare.
Watch out for bars with men from Mars...
'cause BEASTIES party there!
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 6:45 AM UTC
So I turned 32 today.
Penniless birthday,
almost.
Howling rains
woke me up
and I fell back asleep.
And the cat respected my
birthday.
Did not claw my lips like
my usual feline alarm.
The birthday flowers
in the morning
were vivid.
My mother bought them,
deep red and
deep yellow.
I requested
for birthday lunch
my mother’s
home-cooked burgers
and fries sprinkled with
iodized salt.
And I filled myself up
with them hot and crispy
fries
and didn’t care if they
stayed inside my guts
until 2014.
I never really liked cake.
Opted for a dozen original glazed.
Heavenly donuts.
Two of them tumbled down
the escalators.
The first birthday flaw.
Like a bleep in the
grand scheme of
birthday things.
I brought them to a Greek
restaurant.
My mom and dad
and two sisters.
Not really hungry.
Just hungry
for a different taste.
The salad had candied
walnuts among the greens
and the reds.
Progressive Greece.
Then a classic lamb dish.
Classic Greece.
And the waiters
in stuffy white
bellowed a birthday
greeting, dropping the “h”
from my name.
Belted out a non-Grecian
birthday song.
No Grecian dance.
But they gave me
an ice cream treat.
Lighted a solitary
blue candle, which
balanced on the semi-liquid
hills of vanilla, caramel and
walnuts.
The small ice cream hills
illuminated by
the dancing
birthday light.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 3:40 AM UTC
Let me apologize, to begin with because of my body type.
I will NEVER be good enough for anyone to date due to current 'hype.'
You know, the battle of 'bones' vs curves?
Just let me inflate myself to the right number so I can properly serve
As the perfect specimen for your delicate eyes.
Obviously no one is good enough unless they've got decent thighs.
But just wait a god **** minute, because here I am again:
So let me apologize, to begin with, if I offend
You or your friends who think they're too good
To date someone larger, with some extra love under the hood.
How many times have I heard you exclaim in disgust
Of how large she is and how you'd drown in her bust
If you even got near her? I saw you shaking in fear.
From your head to your toes, you were trembling dear.
See I'm told to eat more and maybe, just maybe,
At the end of the night I'll be the one you call baby.
But if I was larger, and let's tell the truth,
You'd be so disgusted by my 'sweet tooth.'
I could eat an elephant and never gain a pound,
She could eat a salad and the crunch is the only sound
You hear a mile away and yet you would assume
That burgers and French fries is all that she consumed.
Do you ever stop to think, ladies and gents?
The true beauty of someone isn't based on the number on their pants.
So, let me apologize, to begin with,
If I bruise your massive ego,
But the way to tell if she's the perfect woman is not by your libido.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC
Diner
Hidden
In a cloud of
Blue nicotine
Sits near
Our home
Serving up grease
Burgers and fries
To men
Women
Gripped by
broken hearts
Bad luck
And rain
The cook, waiters,
Stare at the food
Mad eyes
Wishing
For some change that
Will never come
Through those
Yellow
Doors the newly
Dead men, women,
Walk in
Ready
To order fries
And burgers, shakes,
Diner
Opened
Forever so
Take your good time
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
Burgers, burgers, burgers, burgers,
Burgers, burgers, burgers, burgers,
Burgers, burgers, burgers, burgers,
Burgers, burgers, burgers, burgers...
YOLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 8:13 PM UTC
Yes we did we went out to Phil's
and horked down a meal of fat
not for the old as it'd prolly ****
that's just a matter of fact
Juicy burgers and moist buns
filled with meat and with cheese
no greater feast under the sun
so we ate it quick as you please
We followed it up with Amy's ice cream
creamy and full of the best
something she'd never eaten or seen
putting too shame all the rest
Back at her place
we rolled and we played
we did things that have never been done
Settled our hungers
and settled our moods
our bodies we teased as we sung
I know it's so rude and crude
as she screamed at the top of her voice
beneath her sheets all steamy and lude
"I'm so **** creamy and juicy and moist"
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 11:57 AM UTC
We rode our horses cross-country,
Through the nations of the unknown,
We survived the snowy mountains,
And lived off the land and the trees,
Through hot summers and cold winters,
Through deserts storms; we circled the trails,
We learned from the birds and the bees,
We hunted the elk, the deer and the buffalo,
We fished to feed the travelling spirit,
We turned acorns into flour,
We set our senses free.
$
Europeans brought Soldiers, missionaries, smallpox, the common cold, scalping, reservations, whisky and the rush for gold.
You brought land grabbers, oil barons, fencing, bricks, barbed wire and all the accoutrements of your civilised culture!
You made this country your own; and forced it's 1st nation people into a 3rd world culture.
You ***** the land of its resources, filled it with waste.
You wasted the water to make coke, burgers,
and fantasy towns.
To reign supreme in a new-world without shame!
Savages!
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 4:38 PM UTC
Given the popularity of burgers
I cannot conceive a God
Who wouldn't like one(fries of course)
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 10:06 AM UTC
The fiery red light was staring into my soul.
There was nobody around...
So naturally I hit the gas.
Looked up in that rear view
and some crazy blue lights were ashinin'.
Then came my swerve of shame to the beckoning curb.
My friend to the right kept his cool
While mowing down on two cheese burgers
As he ate, I shook with a casual fear.
The talk with the police was brief
I handed him my license and registration
and he skipped back over to that cop car.
I sat in fear
he ate burgers
we waited
My boy the police came right on back.
he gave me the blissful news.
NO TICKET.
He began the lecture of eating and driving.
that's when my little burger eater chimed right in.
"Sir, I was just handing her a pickle"
I confirmed the statement.
And next thing I knew I was rollin the streets again
Lucked out.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
To have them shipped across the sea,
sitting like ornamental drops
tinsel strung around your eyes
pocketed the tree
walking down sunset avenue
reeking of bamboo stalks and water chestnuts
looking for a place to submerge your treasure
with a rattling breath do you deflate
And the Oak trunk that grows unimpeded
hanging her branches
caressing the Spaniard shingles
the clay missionary tabs
touching the stucco with a golden blade
of sunlight
cutting a thousand little strips
to hang about the face
moving a thousand miles a second
stopped in place with the quiet repose
of a yoga state
humming and shimmering
yet let me be sweet oak tree.
And I wander through the canyon boulevard
between the rocky cliffs and the endless riff
of surf-rock echoed off skate parks
and riding the PC
highway hair bedraggled and snaked into next week
lingering bonfire on the cotton shirt
plant for plant
*** for tat
seed to breed
Now dance, you and me.
Insinuation
drooling salivary tongue full
bacon
pigging out on burgers
getting red-eyes from vegans
smoking plants
murderers
We squirt,
relish on the act of dying
all things dying
choking life second by second
dying to live.
Staring at neon fins lining the gravel lot
Koi flickering beneath the celestial night
Suspended pondwater
pondering
In surfce tension
the deep mysteries of life
Tracing the snake through the winding streams
we watch atop the rooftop
Gaia
Taking in the burgeoning
Ocean of incandescent tangerine
and Peyote-light
Cacti hidden somewhere between
the quiet slumber of mindless streets
aligned by formless hands
Drinking the mescaline
air
Twisting the nightly moments
as locks of hair
I curled them, slipping, within my fingertips
tracing the long winding road of Tao
along her shoulders
Enraptured by her sensual bliss
When I finally drifted along the clouded memories
of divine rumbling eyes
she disappeared into the sky
blinking along the Jet turbines
Never meant to be mine
for more than a night
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 12:25 AM UTC
My cousin came to my house
And stayed after Thanksgiving
I thought that Thanksgiving food was enough
Boy, was I wrong.
He woke me up at noon
At noon.
Didn’t he know I had to sleep off the Thanksgiving meal?
And he said
As if I should have known.
Could you get me the cheeseburger pizza salad slice?
I replied, From where?
Who would have such a concoction?
But I knew him.
He would be the type
To ask for a cheesy gordita crunch taco from Burger King
And look at their confusion with his own puzzlement.
Then when they told him, we don’t serve that.
He would reply, It’s okay, I have the recipe
I can tell you how it is made.
So I get up and put on my coat.
And gloves.
Because I don’t want grease all over me
And start to walk.
And just my luck
The first snow of the season starts.
Not heavy enough for me to turn back
Just enough snow to turn it into an experience
That made me wish I would have slept upstairs
In the closet
So my cousin could not find me.
Its like the Making the Band 2 show
When Puff Daddy tells them
That he wants cheesecake in a different borough.
So I guess my cousin’s Puffy now.
He said he was into producing….
I get to the pizza place
And tell them what my cousin wants
But it took me three tries to get it all out.
They said, I’m sorry, but we don’t have the cheeseburger pizza salad slice
But we have the chicken pizza salad slice
I said Good enough
I’m sure my cousin would be happy
I would regret those words
I brought the pizza home.
And told him that I got it.
He seemed happy
Until he saw that the meat was chicken
Not cow.
He asked me
Had the audacity to ask
Couldn’t they remove the chicken
And put hamburger meat?
I tried to tell him, That is not how it works
They don’t respect your recipes
They have their own
What is the difference?
He then pointed at the pizza and said
Chicken goes on burgers
It does not go on pizza!
I was stunned into silence
By that logic
I don’t know how cheeseburger and pizza go together.
I told him I would eat it for lunch
So at least one of us was satisfied.
The other had his own ideas
But couldn’t find a store to cook them.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 2:21 PM UTC
What a sweet/savory masterpiece!
Always thought I would ask
for lobster as my last meal*
but your juicy succulence
touched my stomach
in naughty places
and now I cannot stop thinking of you!
I think it goes without saying
that you're the best tasting burger on the planet
despite the fact that I have yet to try
all the burgers on the planet.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 4:49 AM UTC
Freedom is premium priced,
At the casino of the world nations throw the dice,
The tables are rigged by the fat rats and mice,
Girls in curvaceous miniskirts on poles entice,
***** laced drinks and cancer sticks merrily fleece,
Fizzy burgers are served filled with crucified cheese,
Layers of salt and blood and veins congealing with grease
Are the fillings inside the consumed meat,
Come to the sale of the century and let your life be diseased,
Take whatever you want and still you will never be pleased,
Remember, one day all will be held to account, so all evil immediately cease,
Do not make the mistake to ********** the legend of glorious Hercules
Or pollute and sell the message of almighty God so cheaply.
©Rangzeb Hussain
Apr 16, 2010
Apr 16, 2010 at 3:40 AM UTC
there was a teddy bear he had a barbecue
invited all his friends there quite a few
a little fluffy cat and a chimpanzee
a soldier in a uniform very smart was he
there was a little owl and parrot to
gathered all together for the barbecue
teddy did the cooking burgers in a bun
everyone was happy having lots of fun
when the party ended they all went away
and thanked the little bear for such a lovely day
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
The winding never-ending road begins in the forest
The root of all evil is an exchange of nature’s breath
The root of all evil isn’t born in any sense
The root of all evil begins with a death
The carcass is driven to its’ after-life
It’s given a new face and a new shade of green
Most of it won’t make it to hell, every day it’s shredded
There is no reminder that what it is, isn’t what it seems
Each and every piece that makes it, starts in the same place
In this place it is still meaningless until claimed
It is then transferred for some purpose
Could be violence, could be music, could be life….
It continues on this-never ending path
The stock broker to get coffee
The coffee worker to get burgers
The burger griller to eat bread
The baker to ride a skateboard
The skateboarder to smoke ***
The drug dealer to get a weapon
The gun shop owner to have ***
The ********** to keep living
The pharmacist to play the market
The stock broker to….
We’ve reached the beginning again.
The root of all evil is our fuel to survive
Our fuel to achieve, our fuel to happiness, our fuel to wrath
So when does this stop and what happens when it dies
The root of all evil begins with a death, it’s a never ending path
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 10:24 PM UTC
Talk-show queen
Oprah Winfrey with her entourage
is going to Australia
and it’s timely now for a quick Colbert Report
on the state of the colony of Australia
Colony?
Yes, that’s right
Australia is still a British colony -
How else do you explain it?
as the Head of Government in Australia
is still the British Monarchy
and her Majesty, the Queen of Great Britain,
has her representative
a Governor-General in Australia;
and the Aussie national media faithfully reports
that Prince Philip is a God in some remote island
and the TV stations broadcast visions of
which British Prince kissed which of their latest fancy
And so, Oprah, welcome to the Colony
Ah, yes, and the Chinese migrants coming in
are surprised to learn of Australia’s status
at citizenship ceremonies
and the young man explains to his grandma:
“Oh, Foreign Devil still control Australia;
sad, Chairman Mao did not Liberate Australia.”
And Indian migrants, much to their disappointment
are heard to remark:
“Oh no – does this mean we still have
to go through another fight for freedom as in 1947?”
But then they are consoled by the fact
that a Gandhi only comes once in 200 years
so we can all still get on with our lives
and the nation will continue
to eat burgers and enjoy barbecues and hop like kangaroos
until such things may happen…
Ah well, dear talk-show Queen Oprah Winfrey
and her entourage
this ends our report on the sovereign nation down under:
Happy Stay in Her British Majesty’s Colony
Sep 23, 2010
Sep 23, 2010 at 12:16 PM UTC