Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe,
Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast,
Is that portentous phrase, “I told you so,”
Utter’d by friends, those prophets of the past,
who, ‘stead of saying what you now should do,
Own they foresaw that you would fall at last…
-Byron: Don Juan. Canto xiv. St. 50
Shrink: I think you’re an alcoholic.
Patient: And I think you’re a lousy square who is severely biased against awesomeness, but let’s keep our funny little opinions to ourselves, shall we?
In the lack of poems, I’ve got quips. Lots of funny little few liners that someone might get to chuckle at while I’m still scrounging for time. This one I found particularly funny just cause, you know, one man’s aliment is another’s enjoyment! Hope this funny little thing helps you get through your workday a little better.
Also a quick note: 2700! The number is crazy high, if you ask me. About three hundred more people decide to give a little quick, and I’ve got another awesome dedication poem to do and might just think of throwing a Facebook page up for good measure. Case any of you real nutjobs wanna see what I find funny, or get a glimpse at some of my scraps that I’m working to turn into poems!