Ode to False Perfection


Mr. Perfect arrives, exquisite Ms. Ideal, by his side,

See how they stand, such flawless poise,

No sound of dissent, not one single noise.

They sashay cross the floor, in symphonic stride,

A nod here, a smile there, as they greet false fans,

While waving their sanctimonious hands.

As if in review, no hair out of place,

All lessor beings must bow low to their stature,

Hiding the fact, that we all see the fracture.

As I turn to observe their opposite face,

Glaring vision attacked my eyes,

I’ve never imaged pants with rear flies.

A chuckle I buried, if just to save grace,

Mr. Perfect waddled, bowed legs were a sight,

Ms. Ideal no better, her brown trail a blight,

As they pranced toward the door, in regal fashion,

I thought to myself, my sins no greater,

Then those who would judge to call me a hater.

So I say unto those who wish to cash in,

Keep your nose to the sky,

Kiss my ass, that’s my passion.

Trump Jump Train

Come on Chump,

Get outta your slump,

It’s time for the Jump,

Let’s do the Trump Jump today!

 

It’s easy to learn,

And calories you’ll burn.

Once again we earn

Respect to discern

And fight for the Rights of all.

 

So come on chump,

Get off that stump.

Swing to the right,

And gain new might.

Then curtsy to the left,

Just leave it bereft.

For Rome did fall.

Let’s do the Trump Jump today!

 

So you over there,

Don’t be so square,

With your deplorable grace,

Put a smile on your face.

Join in the Trump Jump today!

 

The Sage

Overheard someone talking about the upcoming election and how they wish Obama could run again.

(I threw up, but politely.)

The next thing I heard is how upset she was that a soldier declined to voice any opinion of Mr. Obama.

Seems she was ready to tear him a new one or buy him lunch depending on his answer.

“Obama is our hero, he got us out of that nasty war” she said.

“Ma’am, I am not allowed to voice my opinion of POTUS, but I can vote – Republican.”

The soldier did a perfect salute, an about face and marched off whistling God Bless America.

 

 

Native Peoples Club, Meramec CC

NATIVE PEOPLES’ HUMOR

Scene: Well worn, dirt road between two colonial towns.

Action: Pompous, middle aged colonist is walking along the path when he sees a little Pequot             

boy sitting by the side of the road.

Colonist:     “Why aren’t you working in the fields so I can be a rich man?”

Boy:        “I am helping you sir, I am sitting here selling Smart Pills to earn money.”

Colonist:    “Smart pills? What are Smart pills?”

Boy:        “Oh, very sacred medicine sir. The Holy man gathers them for us from his secret

place.”

Colonist:    “How do they work?”

Boy:        “You must chew them well so the medicine melts in your mouth to go to your

brain and make you smarter.”

Colonist:    “How much are they?”

Boy:        “Ten pills for one penny, sir.”

Colonist:    “For a penny, I’ll it.”

    Handing the boy a penny, the Colonist grabs the entire bag of Smart pills, pours them into his mouth and chews like a madman. Suddenly, he spits them out and starts yelling at the boy.

        “Those were rabbit turds!!!!!!!”

Boy, looking back over his shoulder as he runs away:

        “They work fast sir, you are smarter already!”

 

HUMOR IS A SHIELD AGAINST ADVERSITY.

 

NativePeoplesClub@gmail.com