Poetry Thursday

 

Once again Angel Sammys and and Teddys Pawetatonc have challenged us to write a poem about the picture below.  Please to enjoy

Otto hated to travel by plane

When it came to the ring, he did reign

But flying made him insane

He couldn't fit through the doors and had to access the fuselage via crane

Paul loved to fly

If he crashed, it was his idea of a great way to die

He got so much done on a flight that it was hard to quantify

And the airline served the best Shepard’s Pie

The only way Otto could go

Was if he sat in the front row

Or strapped down in cargo

His agent got his seat in row one, where he could relax and sip his merlot

Much to his surprise, when Otto boarded, he found a little dude in the first seat

And said to Paul, “You’re in the wrong seat, meat”

And Paul replied that there was no mystique

The airline gave him the seat when a doctor said he needed to stretch his feet

Otto was told to sit by a member of the crew

And the big man squeezed into row two

Like an elephant in a canoe

 Before take off, Paul told Otto to sit up straight, and he could feel Otto’s knees coming through

Then Paul tilted back

And Otto felt like he was in a rack

Then Paul began snoring like a Gatling gun attack

And Paul had a flashback of being crushed by Haystack

At the end of the flight, Otto woke up with a grin

With his legs spread out like a kingpin

And he hoped it certainly  was no sin

When Otto threw Paul out the window over Brooklyn

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

Hey, Mommy

Get away from that curtain

. I do not want your claws ripping it. 

It is not too much fun to be on the other end of the squirt bottle is it?

Monday Question

 You have lovely nails; who does them?

Ruby’s Answer:  My groomer does them

Ruby’s Sunday Funnies

Just in from CNN, the Parks Department announced today that they know why the reflecting pool is filled with algae. It seems the pump don’t work because the vandal took the handle. Police are looking for one Robert Zimmerman, described as a short, thin, Jewish beatnik poet who was last seen blowing in the wind.

A man called to testify at the Internal Revenue Service (IRS), asked his accountant for advice on what to wear.

"Wear your shabbiest clothing. Let him think you are a pauper," the accountant replied.

Then he asked his lawyer the same question, but got the opposite advice. "Do not let them intimidate you. Wear your most elegant suit and tie."

Confused, the man went to his Priest, told him of the conflicting advice, and requested some resolution of the dilemma."Let me tell you a story," replied the Priest.

"A woman, about to be married, asked her mother what to wear on her wedding night. 'Wear a heavy, long, flannel nightgown that goes right up to your neck.' But when she asked her best friend, she got conflicting advice. Wear your most sexy negligee, with a V neck right down to your navel."

The man protested: "What does all this have to do with my problem with the IRS?!"

"Simple", replied the Priest...

"It doesn't matter what you wear, you are going to get screwed!"

While living in Denver the weatherman said, expect 10 to 12 inches of snow tonight so park on the right side of the road so we can plow the left side. Willie’s wife ran out and parked on the right side. The next week the forecast called for another 10 to 12 inches of snow, but this time he said park on the left side. So Willie’s wife ran out and parked the car on the left side of the road. The following week he said 16 inches of snow expected park, the lights went out and all our power was lost. Willie’s wife said, my goodness, now I don’t know where to park the car. “Why don’t you just leave it in the garage!” Willie

Nature Friday

 There are ladies in our counter garden. Do you see them?

They come out at night

And hide amongst the flowers

I can hear them scurrying around at night

They talk in barely discernible whispers

And slowly chant

Some have dogs

Some have children

and once I think I heard Foley

When I bark at them they say “hush little Ruby go to sleep” and I instantly do

They are the ladies of the 

Garden

 

And they freak me out

Poetry Thursday

Once again Angel Sammys and and Teddys Pawetatonc have challenged us to write a poem about the picture below.  Please to enjoy.

Baby Donald said, it is your fault. We are at war. 

Baby Benjamin said, Do not blame me, I voted for Gore. 

Baby Donald told him he was a stupid Dumbledore. 

These two kids were rotten to the core.

Baby Benjamin said, when it comes to the war, you started it.

Baby Donald said, change your diaper, you smell like shit. 

For these two babies that is what amounted to wit. 

But why must we pay for both being a twit?

Baby Donald said, "You are the one who blew up the hospital and hurt all the kids." 

Baby Benjamin said, "I did not know they were kids, I thought they were Kurds."

 Their mothers wished they never taught them to use words.

 These two were for the birds.

Baby Donald said that Baby Benjamin cost him his Nobel Peace Prize. 

Baby Benjamin said you could not win a peace prize if you had a thousand tries. 

Then they both began to shout, and tears fell from their eyes. Then they shot more planes into the skies.

Baby Benjamin told Donald he was white trash because barely clad men fought on his lawn. 

Baby Donald said baby Benjamin was nothing but a pawn. 

The truth is, on their people were both running a con, 

thinking themselves as both a mafia don.

The two babies knew they were in a heck of a mess, 

worse than when they forced the neighboring young girls to undress. 

Two babies were causing the world's distress 

and the economies were about to become depressed

Then Baby Donald thought of something that would set them free, 

And he gave a happy shout of glee. 

He said I know the answer for you and me. 

We will blame the whole mess on baby JD.