Thursday, September 28, 2023
Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.
I was going to be a great meal for Jake
His mom had made chocolate cake
Then his mother got his attention with a snap
If he wanted cake he would have to eat this crap
Jake let out a sigh
To cover that he wanted to cry
The cake was right there on the counters
He had defied her before but never been able to summount her
Jake tried moving food around the plate
But his mother would not ababte
His mom said “I want to see that plate clean.”
Especially anything that is bland and green
When his mom turned around Jake had a thought
And he called over his dog Spot
“I am going to give you my dinner
Its what all dogs want, you lucky winner.”
“I don’t think so, good buddy,” Spot said
“But I would rather eat stale kibble instead
That stuff look gross
And would make me gassy, and wreak havoc with my blood glucose.”
Jake had to eat supper, he hadn’t any choice
He ate the food and when finished did rejoice
It was time for the cake, hopefully a big slice
He was about to be in desert paradise
Jake took a big bite of cake
But only one slight he did take
Because it was not chocolate cake but carrot
And man did it taste like shit
Monday, September 25, 2023
Sunday, September 24, 2023
I was hanging out with some of my bear angel friends, and they told me about Clark Grizzleywold. He lived in Orlando and decided his family needed a vacation, so he wanted to take them to Disney World.
The angels laughed about that.
But I asked, "why not."
They had a lot of reasons, like, "he'll get shot." But it's Florida. They will probably think he was a West Virginian who wandered away from brunch at Mar-a-Lago.
So, I went to Clark and told him all he had to do was walk in the entrance with his family at night when the park was closed, and they could go on the rides and enjoy themselves until they were escorted out or shot. It it's the latter; the bad news is death; the good news is you will be the most famous bear since Smokey crapped on a spreading fire and put it out. Remember, only poo can prevent forest fires.
One night, Clark and his family left the safety of the woods to go to Disney World. But, when they crossed the parking lot, his wife and two children stopped, noticing the park was closed.
"Of course it is closed," Clark said. "You don't think they would let us in if it wasn't," he said.
"But Dad, we can't go on the ride," the children cried.
He said he hit arranged; they would be on Space Mountain within the hours. "I don't think so," his wife said. "Little Clark gets sick if he's in a tree and the wind blows. If he bear vomits at the top fo the ride it will kill small children gathered below."
His family abandoned him, but Clark would not be deterred. His great-grandfather had wrestled geeks at the circus, his great-grandfather drove a family out of their cabin and lived like a king for a week, and his father is still standing in an abandoned Bugaboo Creek, and his only fun is when the chipmunks living in his butt stretch. When someone enters, the little critters have been known to sing "Christmas Don't Be Late," making the intruder flee from the mangy, angry, castrated bear. (Have you ever met a castrated bear who wasn't a little peeved?"
Clark walked through the gates of the Magic Kingdom and had the time of his life for twenty minutes. He climbed on the rides and was very happy, unaware that the fun part was when they moved.
Sadly, he was soon caught and was to be returned to the wild when one of his captors noticed Clark had a true sense of rhythm and now he is playing bass in the Country Bear Jamboree.
He was told to keep his legs still while they played so he didn't scare the guests.
He has done so most of the time.
The only time he has failed is when the chipmunks living in his butt stretched.
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