I wrote a haiku last night at work to express my frustration at the CD cases I need going missing; rage wasn't getting anywhere, so why couldn't poetry do the deed?
That turned into a haiku-off between a friend and I. So now, I present to you, our duelling haikus:
Him (on using a haiku to express my frustration):
I commend your taste,
Haiku is the highest form
of divine writing.
From there, we segued into a discussion about Napoleon Dynamite, and how the guy had decent luck with women, vs. my friend at the same age:
Him:
'cause my mad love skills
matured in a late season
I date younger women. ;)
Me:
Cradle-robber you
Are we worry about
you getting caught soon
Him:
I only date chicks
who look like they're at the age
of majority
No high-school girls here,
to get past my bouncers, you
Must have good ID. :)
Me:
"look like" isn't the
same as being that old you
know; dirty old man
Him:
Eighty or eighteen,
as long as they have the parts,
I will do the deed.
As promised... that one's going to haunt him. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment