Thanksgiving has come and gone and now I am heading into the last week before finals (when most of my essays are due). I don't have much to report, but I am sick of Angry Burke chomping at my bits. So... here is a random poem that I shall make up right now while I sit here in class.
I Am Sorry
I am sorry if my socks are just too dang green.
I am sorry for your missing spleen.
I am sorry for the space between
thy two front teeth, and all I mean
to really say is just that beans
make excellent pastes with which to clean
the cellar and a pastry queen's
Veruca Salty, hammy thing.
Come with me and we shall sing
of lovely, bubbly, hemorrhoid creams
that carry us on silken wings
to the glorious heights where Charlie Sheen
will make us delicious onion rings.
We'll hope that he remembers to bring
his pants so that no one must see
a sight most horribly obscene;
Charlie are you listening?