First up is our friend's son Timmy. Timmy is seven years old and is diagnosed with ADHD and bipolar disorder, which is unfortunate, but these diseases have blessed him with a tremendous ability to paint a picture of his condition using the written word. Lets hear his haiku and experience 3 stanzas of what life must be like struggling with something this tough:
Retard in my head
Fucking my brain up all day
Get the fuck out, tard
Astonishing.
Next up is Craig, an old friend from college who has still yet to really cope with the fact that he graduated 9 years ago and is still desperately clinging to his glory days. We caught up with him at the local college bar between swaying to "Every Rose Has It's Thorn" and rocking out to "Pour Some Sugar On Me" to get him to dig deep into a personal hardship and put it into haiku form.
She said no loudly
I said fuck you bitch love me
Fried chicken post sex
Next up we have our neighbor Mr. Schmidt. He's a 43 year ol---
Girl drunk at party
Hey, Craig. One poem per person man.
Next up, we have our neighbor Mr. Schmidt, a hard working man who is always happy to lend a hand when you need to borrow some tools or lend you some advice about anything from girls to cars-- a real everyman. He was on his way to work when we caught up with him and asked if he had something to say about his community, preferably in Haiku form.
Ummm....
Moving right along, lets go back and hang out with our buddy Bubba, an unemployed 20 year old who doesn't shower or brush his teeth, but generally a pretty good guy. Lets see if he's got any insight into his daily life he can share with us.
girlfriend is crying
kind of awkward, what to do?
ignore her, fuck it
Umm... anything else you'd like to share in haiku form, Bubba?
There once was a girl who was crying
I told her to shut up, she's lying
She picked up a knife
and took her own life
And now I feel bad that she's dying
Okay that wasn't a haiku, that was a limerick. But come to think of it, limericks are way better than haikus. They're harder to do, have more words, and force you to actually rhyme words-- and we all know it's not real poetry if the words don't rhyme. Lets check in with some other people and see if they can do some limericks.
There once was a hooker who was sad
There once was a man with the shits
His bowels would cause the man fits
He wiped day and night
But try as he might
He couldn't quit keeping out dicks
Um... lets get back to Mr. Schmidt.
A man laid naked on his bed
We're never doing this again.
Next up we have our neighbor Mr. Schmidt. He's a 43 year ol---
Girl drunk at party
Got all my friends together
BUKKAKE FOR LIFE
Hey, Craig. One poem per person man.
Next up, we have our neighbor Mr. Schmidt, a hard working man who is always happy to lend a hand when you need to borrow some tools or lend you some advice about anything from girls to cars-- a real everyman. He was on his way to work when we caught up with him and asked if he had something to say about his community, preferably in Haiku form.
Niggers around me
I really think I should move
I dont like niggers
Ummm....
Moving right along, lets go back and hang out with our buddy Bubba, an unemployed 20 year old who doesn't shower or brush his teeth, but generally a pretty good guy. Lets see if he's got any insight into his daily life he can share with us.
girlfriend is crying
kind of awkward, what to do?
ignore her, fuck it
Umm... anything else you'd like to share in haiku form, Bubba?
There once was a girl who was crying
I told her to shut up, she's lying
She picked up a knife
and took her own life
And now I feel bad that she's dying
Okay that wasn't a haiku, that was a limerick. But come to think of it, limericks are way better than haikus. They're harder to do, have more words, and force you to actually rhyme words-- and we all know it's not real poetry if the words don't rhyme. Lets check in with some other people and see if they can do some limericks.
There once was a hooker who was sad
She knew what she was doing was bad
She decided to try
to figure out why
Then remembered being fingered by her dad.
Thanks Craig, but we're looking for a few other--
Thanks Craig, but we're looking for a few other--
There once was a man with the shits
His bowels would cause the man fits
He wiped day and night
But try as he might
He couldn't quit keeping out dicks
Um... lets get back to Mr. Schmidt.
Typical nigger with braids
Wants nothing but a big chain and flashy shades
Has nothing better to do
Than fight, rap, and screw
And infecting women with aids.
A man laid naked on his bed
I realized quickly he was dead
I say with no regret
Thats what you get
For giving another cowboy head.
We're never doing this again.
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