My Favorite Things December 5, 2008
Posted by nebuchadnezzar in Bad Poetry, DJ Nezz.Tags: Favorite Things, Julia Andrews, sound of music
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(from Wednesday, Dec. 3, 2008)
DJ Nezz was feeling a little inspiration from Ms. Julia Andrews. He blames his upbringing.
Rain on lush foliage and grey Puget waters,
Early morning walks through the streets of Seattle,
Smothering fog whether in the day or at night.
These are a few of my favorite things.
Whole milk vanilla lattes and reading good books,
Daydreaming about nothing while listening to music,
Surfing through Wikipedia and zombies galore.
These are a few of my favorite things.
English breakfast with beer watching West Ham win matches,
Discussing the philosophy behind politics and religion.
Red Robin hot wings, cheese sticks, and Coke.
These are a few of my favorite things.
Sitting in pubs or ferry rides to Victoria,
The city skyline at night and Christmas lights twinkling,
Watching T.V. shows snuggled up with the wife.
These are a few of my favorite things.
When my job sucks,
When I’m pissed off,
When I feel a general malaise.
I simply do some of my favorite things
And then I don’t feel so bad.
-DJ Nezz
The Sound of…Panic? September 18, 2008
Posted by essaytch in Bad Poetry, Rhyme Time.Tags: poetry, cats, sound of music, turning 30, fall, trees, snow, corpses, dead people, cat ladies
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Fog in the morning
and cool breezes blowing,
Sunrise is later
and fall leaves are showing.
Thick swarms of snow birds soon take to their wings…
These are a few of my favorite things.
When the snow falls,
And the tree’s trimmed,
And the New Year looms:
I’ll quickly remember my birthday is near!
And suddenly the panic kicks in again and I realize “Oh my god I’m going to be 30 and I’m still single with no kids and I’ll probably end up like that crazy cat lady that I saw on TV who has like 500 cats all roaming around on her property and then the word will get out and I’ll REALLY be alone for the rest of my life and when I die then all of my cats will survive by eating my decaying body since no one will know I’ve expired and the smell of my rotting corpse is masked by the filthy stench of all those damn cats! Holy hell, 30!!!”
-Essaytch
