A Short Poem For All Ages

I once knew a girl who made princess toys.
Well no, not the toys, but the boxes.
These plastic figurines were not made for boys;
Rather, they were made for children without coxes.

Words That Sound Like Inappropriate Words

Once in a great while one will come across a term that does not fit its situation. Words that are spoken too quickly in certain situations can make someone appear to be an ass. The following example is one of my shining moments which will further explain exactly what I mean.

Once upon a time...

I was working at P.F Chang's China Bistro as a server late one night, when I received a table of two old black ladies in the mood for some dinner. The table started off like any other: I asked how they were, they were friendly, and we chatted briefly. By the time the old ladies were through with their meal we had spoken about different subjects and had pockets of nice conversation throughout the night. Normally that is where every story about a nice table ends, and in a way, that is still true for this story. Yet, just before I left and said goodbye to the old black ladies, they asked me one last question.

“We were trying to think of the name of this old horror movie we saw, maybe you can help us? Have you ever seen a movie where a woman is sewing a quilt together and when some man walks up to the lady she jumps up and stabs him in the eyes with her quilting tools?”

With some shock to such a random question, I quickly replied, with some emphasis towards the end, “No! But it sounds like that’s one crazy knitter!”

Looking back, I do not remember how long I stood there. The old black ladies and I just stared at each other in shock, confusion, and with a tad bit of horror. I only remember the quite walk back to the kitchen.

Was it subconscious racism that sparked such a witty comment, or was it sheer coincidence that the term I used was unfortunately similar to an ignorant slur? Either way, I hate the term knitter for being too much like a callous word.

(Knitting Needle stabbed into an eye - X-Ray)

Chiclee! Chiclee!

When in Mexico, There are a few things one can count on: the poverty, the heat, and the chiclets.

Oh God...the chiclets. As soon as one hits those streets of Mexico, children swarm like bums outside the post office. "Chiclee! Chiclee!", they cry out holding up their hands packed with square wrapped gum. Understand that I do not hate the children, which many (my two readers...) may have assumed that's where I was going with this rant. I hate the product selection.


Selling Orbitz you say? Some Bubbleyum? Big League Chew!? I'll take two!

A chiclet is possibly the worst gum selection a person could choose. Chiclets do not have any flavor...just different colors (like that old zebra-print gum). The pieces aren't even individually wrapped!

Oh, and who decided gum is what everyone wants in Mexico? Maybe a bottle of clean water would better fit the Mexican market. Plus, this just in! Immigration problems solved! Mexicans can come over to do the work Americans will not do and make money to buy better gum (in bulk from Costco) for their children to sell in Mexico. From the tourist to the Mexican...everyone wins. I do believe Mexican children would be sought out if they sold a higher quality gum that could last a little longer.

Speaking of "last a little longer," even Big Red would be a better choice, and Big Red is a cinnamon gum. Why, by the way, doesn't cinnamon gum taste like a cinnamon bun? Why does cinnamon taste differently depending on what it is on?

I hate inconsistent cinnamon.

Sir Adam Sleep and the Leaping Killer Sheep

Everyone knows that when one is tired all they need do is count some sheep.
But what do you do when one is tired and one's name is Sir Adam Sleep?

Sir Adam Sleep is a gentleman's gentleman and the pride of country and crown,
yet when Sir Adam Sleep begins to feel wheezy he dare not try to lie down.

When Sir Adam was a lad he grew up on a peaceful farm.
He once feel asleep in a field, and here is where he found harm.
He awoke to a horrible sight, a sight that rattled his will.
Larry the Lamb was jumping the carcass of Larry's latest kill.

I feel I must mention, before we go on, this lamb, named Larry by all.
Larry was the type, call him beast call him lamb, that had the killer's call.
He tore into his pals, he tore into some birds, he tore into wolves who sneaked in.
Larry the Lamb, too be quite clear, was in love with his mistress named Sin.

Now back to the sight, which Sir Adam Sleep did, on that night, dreadfully see.
His father, Maximilian Sleep, chewed to the bone and leaped by Larry, count three.

Larry leaped one.
Larry leaped two.
Larry leaped one, two, three.



...too be continued (find out what happens to Larry the Lamb and why Sir Adam Sleep was knighted)