funny

Frida Kahlo (beats by Weight)

Hop hip

Frida Kahlo has a hell of a unibrow,
How she grew that I don’t know how.
But that caterpillar is fatter than my fattie.
I know yo mamma like it, but who’s yo daddy?

From bad to worse, I rehearse these verses.
Code blue, stat, call up the nurses.
Hearses idle, some dead men walking.
But I’m a Pac Man, keep a waka-waka-wakking.

Hawking my wares, wherever they buyin’.
Made a killing on the Elders of Zion.
Frypan beatdown, got killt with a skillet.
Crashed the kosher code, some goy asked will it
Be the death of you, home? Well, nobody knows,
But these Old Testament testicles can take a few blows.

Foes fall back, weebles start to wobble.
People keep talking, all I hear’s turkeys gobbling.
Some start to sobbing, speaking in tongues,
Saw Jesus in a nacho; at the top of my lungs
I keep preaching these heretical gospel.
Reaching y’all heathens with boy band apostles.

Sight for sore eyes, this vision is sordid.
Zap pests like Orkin, rhymes never aborted.
Sorted out friends from foes with a flourish.
Put rap on a seafood diet, nourished.

Sure as shooting this ain’t the most
elevated discourse ever – so why don’t you shoot me?
Never before have I heard such stupidity.
But it don’t matter, I’m all about liquidity.

Rid of me? Not yet—I last like a head cold.
If this were poker you’d be fixin’ to fold.
Hold my drink, lemme take care of this one.
One more run-and-gun youngblood’s one and done.

Fun! I’m a 4-ring circus.
Got one extra for Angela Merkus.
Lurk late, strike straight, thin gin, I sin,
Got so many rhymes don’t know where to begin

Or end—but friend, I never do,
This brain is wired with a never-ending loop.
Ingrain the sounds I’m throwing at you.
Insane the clown possibility, chew on this,

Don’t choke, best chomp thoroughly.
Don’t wolf your food or this face most assuredly
Will be the last thing you’ll ever see.
Face worth than death, fate you don’t want to be.

Yo B, I got D like Urlacher.
Get hit with this, got lots the matter.
I lick batter from lyrical beaters
Bake cakes with fakers’ Apollo Creeds

Or Pontius Pilates, I do pilates,
With thesaurus and dictionary, karate.
Verbal judo, Ju know what I’m sayin’?
Eat broccoli crudo, smoke cruciferous, slayin’

The wolves that’s bayin’ with ridiculousness,
Proud to say that I’m known as a hot mess.
Loch Ness monsters seek anonymity,
I seek the white-hot spotlight, B are you feelin’ me?

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Dizzy (beats by The GeekSquad)

Hop hip

You got dizzy, I got busy with your girlfriend
Circular logic, I whirl peas without end.
Metta World Peace changed his name back to Artest
Just to get with this goodness, y’all must confess
Don’t know what I’m sayin’, but it’s got that certain,
How do the French say, “behind the curtain”?
Door number 1, I mean, “Menage a trios,”
Door number 3 and whore number 3 got me so hard
I’m bout to break, bout to blow the scene up
The next backpack rapper that say, “Yo, ‘s’up?”
Is fixing to get an earful of fredlicious flow.
It’s nothing you’ve heard before, nothing you could know
About—about time, time flies, flies die.
I smote insects got a bug-zapper eye
Ball—I’m ballin’ here, I’m a menace to tennis.
Ping pong quick wit, so far from senescence,
Evanescence, I make fools disappear.
Pull a rabbit out your ass and dead presidents from my ear.
Making money, they call me The Treasury.
My 3-pointers fly so smooth, so feathery.
Leather never felt so good in the net.
Never touch iron, do it clean, that’s what she said.

Freddy Flow flows, that much is certain
Pay not attention to that man behind the curtain.
Alertin’ y’all to a new way of thinking
Sinkin’ Battleships, G-5 like Lincolns.
Winkin’ at pirates, the parrot got nasty,
Mother buccaneer, birdbrain, avast ye
Sea dogs, seamen, I’m flush with C-notes,
So well-tailored even my briefs are bespoke.
Already spoken for, I’m booked for years
I’ve got more green than Iowa’s got ears of corn,
Just informing you, an FYI
Future porn star, girls got an eye for this straight guy.
Don’t sleep on this, ain’t no Posturpedic.
I got what you want but you might not need it.
I’m so gratuitous, like a gratuity
Keep these rhymes flowin’ in perpetuity.
The hip-hop game is somewhat new to me
But you’d never know by this flow, I’m Mookie B.
B for Blaylock, I’m an old-school baller,
On the come-up, comin’ out the holler.
Into the light, out the redneck backwoods.
Don’t pack heat pack lunch split wood
With one mighty blow, but never split an infinitive.
Flow like Flomax, I spit it infinite.

For those about to AARP, we salute you!

Floetry, New

This’s a shout-out to all my shut-ins,
throw off your walkers, the revolt is coming.
Rise from your wheelchair, clap off the TV.
Tell your daughter your pet otter can’t see

Why you ought to be cooped up in here.
Jail break time, no need for fear.
The world is waiting for Grandmama’s wisdom.
Rock the globe like a heathen in Christendom.

Kiss some, curse some, put some in a hearse,
The first shall be last and the last shall be first.
Thirst for truth like a true Sojourner,
Burn your bra, put your life on the front burner.

Live fast, die late, leave a wrinkled-ass corpse,
forget the keys just force through the front doors
and bust through all the windows, leave nothing standing.
No one asked, now you’re demanding.

Gotta hand it to you, if not you’ll take it,
No Harry and Sally orgasms faked.
It’s the real thing, baby, shake it and bake it.
Start the party, start to get buck naked.

Might be 80 but you could pass for 60,
like Tom Cruise, your business is risky.
Frisky filly, put on this bridle,
hit high notes like a violin recital.

Get stoned on Geritol, hold a Ben Gay orgy,
Print bills in the basement, spends those forgeries.
Can’t take it with you, use it all up,
Set a bad example for all us young pups.

“For those about to AARP, we salute you!”

What American needs: A blog awards death ray

New, Randomocracy

Thanks to my snarkalicious colleague for putting a new wrinkle on the shar-pei that is The Most Perspiring Blogger Award.

Funnier In Writing

I’m a terrible person. If Jennifer Aniston had married me (which would have been creepy because she doesn’t have a penis), when we finally divorced and I posed for photos with Angelina Jolie (not nearly as creepy because I’m pretty sure she does have a penis), she would have told the press in that whiny manner of hers that I have a sensitivity chip missing. Blog success came early, along with the accolades that often accompany this lowly profession (erm, if profession means something I do to while away the hours after I’ve completely emptied my bottle of Ketel One each morning) and, as a result, I’ve been uninterested remiss in acknowledging and responding to some of the lovely awards that have been bestowed upon me by my fellow bloggers.

View original post 4,094 more words

Rather get bit by a fossilized trilobite

Ever'thing, Hop hip

Ferd or Fred, I’ll answer to both
but Derf don’t work, it feels like meat loaf
in my mouth, got cauliflower ear,
too much broccoli, not enough beer.

Made a career out of unclear references,
Bade farewell to verbal reticence.
Present tense passed by, I’m already future,
Invented new verbs to work your glutes, suit yourself,

If you’re not with this, sit down,
Finders keepers but I will never be found,
Losers weepers I’m a needle in a haystack,
heavy hitter like a fat man snack attack.

Whacked more weeds than Toro,
Cut more Zs than Zorro.
Tomorrow’s my yesterday, today is so last week,
Celebrate Chinese new year when Pekingese speak.

That’s my dogs, got a mob of chihuashuas,
Yo quiero Taco Bell, dog day mamas,
Got me a llama and 39 acres,
So much cookie I need a dozen bakers,

Maker’s Mark on the tip of my tongue,
The Gospel of Mark’s gonna get expunged.
Bungee jumped, screamed Oh my Lord!
Unfortunately, Mama had cut the cord.

Swim with swordfish, my rapier wit
acquitted me well till the great white shark bit.
Shit! Should’ve stayed in the shallows like Mama said,
Instead I was in deep, looking at being dead,

Right, said Fred, bled down to zero
(Brits say zed), my head was a hero sandwich
to a shark with an overbite,
Rather get bit by a fossilized trilobite.

The Most Perspiring Blogger Award!

Ever'thing, New, Randomocracy

Today, I hereby nominate all my fellow bloggers for the newly inaguarated inauguarated developed “Most Perspiring Blogger” award!

This goes to honor those bloggers who work hard for the money–so you’d better treat them right.

The Most Perspiring Blogger Award is sponsored through a generous grant from VerySweatyBetty.com, the hyperhidrosis support group.

If you choose to accept the Most Perspiring Blogger Award, there are a few things you are required to do, to pass it forward. According to the requirements of the award you must:

  • Thank the one who nominated you (i.e., me)–sacrificing a chicken will suffice.
  • Add a picture of the award  (the R or NC-17 versions) to your post
  • Nominate every other blogger you’ve ever read, seen, heard of, or could imagine (e.g., alien bloggers, bloggers reincarnated from past lives, dodo birds, etc.)
  • Keep “awarding” them until they relent.
  • Share 7 random slanders about your significant other (consult with your attorney first to make sure these won’t be admissible in court)

To see your fellow awardees just click here…
http://www.sweatblock.com/sweaty-singers-and-performers/

I hope you enjoy the award and accept it and pass it forward.

Oh, and one more thing: “UUNNNHHHHHH!!!”

Full can of Fix-a-Flat

Hop hip, New

I’m flat broke but I’m fixing to fix that,
Got me a monkey wrench and a full can of Fix-a-Flat.
Gonna do some damage, got a bad case of mange
I’m ready to share with y’all, feeling deranged.

Froth at the mouth but no frothy Santorum mix
Ix-nay butt play, squeal like a pig, bunch of hicks
tried to convince me the world is flat,
I said no, It’s a cube, dude, on the back of a giant rat.

I saw some sneaking through the alley with Sally,
Chicago mammals they big, I took me a tally.
Counted to 10 but could’ve been more,
Couldn’t get my socks off to count 10 more.