A Doggone Poem About My Dog, Cooter Junior

I had a dog named Cooter,
but he passed away.

I wasn't sad for long,
because his son appeared one day.

Junior might not be his son,
he might be Cooter reincarnated.

Either way this little dog
needs to be decaffeinated.

He's wild & crazy, running around,
begging for attention.

He'll leave home and not come back,
so I keep him in detention.

He likes to sleep on rocks,
and he's always acting loopy.

Sometimes he'll sleep on top of his house,
that's right, just like Snoopy.

He likes to tear stuff up,
he's always up to no good.

He'll sit and stare for hours
at the mystery in my woods.

He's always acting rude & crude,
and he has no class.

I love the little monky,
even though he's a pain in the ass.

Just in case you're wondering,
I'll go ahead and answer.

Both dogs were named for the mechanic
that helped the Dukes Of Hazzard.

A Poem That Spans Time And Space (and ends with me marrying one of the hottest chicks ever!)

There are many things I would do,
if I could travel time and space.

Like stop that piece of trash
from cutting Tina Fey's young face.

I'd hunt down Townes Van Zandt
and say lay off the drugs and drink.

Then go tell George Lucas to
reconsider Jar-Jar Binks.

I'd get on Buddy Holly's bus
and try to fix that heater.

And then suggest to Pee Wee Herman
to stay out of that theater.

I'd warn Roky Erickson to
never plead insanity.

And do my best to get Sam Raimi
to cancel Spider-Man 3.

I'd deliver a cancer warning
to guitar god Mick Ronson.

Then convince The Academy to
give an Oscar to Charles Bronson.

Of course I'd do my damnedest to
prevent the 9/11 attack.

Then head back to the 1950s
to marry Kim Novak.

That last part isn't selfish,
it's deserved, you see.

I should be rewarded for

performing those good deeds.

Heaven Beckons The MACHO MAN!!!

He was a giant among men,
a Lord Of The Ring.

When it came to wrestling,
he was one of the Kings.

Most dudes would cut promos
that were totally “BLEHHH!”

But he demanded attention
when he said “OOH YEAHH!”

To list his achievements
would take many hours.

Like when he teamed with Hulk Hogan
to form the Mega Powers.

A master of his craft,
he'd earned the right to gloat.

He had the best match EVER
when he fought Ricky Steamboat.

There's not much I'm sure of,
but one thing I do know.

You would NOT want to receive
his flying elbow.

His impact on history
will always be felt.

There was NO greater champion
of the Intercontinental Belt.

If the holy men are right,
and there is a Great Plan.

Then it was HEAVEN
that beckoned the Macho Man!

Debate In Poetry Form: Han Solo vs. Malcolm Reynolds

I'm about to begin a dangerous debate.
About who's the King of Bad Ass, and who ultimately ain't.

From Star Wars, Captain Han Solo, of the Millennium Falcon.
From Firefly, Captain Reynolds, whose first name is Malcolm.

Both have kick ass guns, both are really funny.
Both are good at fightin' and mackin' on space honeys.

Han Solo fought The Empire, and gave 'em lots of Hell.
But Mal fought Space Yankees, with a proud Rebel Yell.

Han's only crew was Chewbacca, and that's not a lot.
Mal had 4 dudes + 4 chicks, and all them chicks were hot.

Serenity was old and creaky, salvaged from a wreck.
The Falcon made the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs.

Mal had some cool threads, including his Browncoat.
But nothing is fucking cooler than Han's ESB blue coat.

Mal beat The Alliance by making The 'Verse aware.
Han defeated The Empire with help from goddamn Care Bears.

Ewoks?  Really?  In disgust I hand my head.
Ewoks are a dealbreaker, and with that I say, 'Nuff Said!

Winner: Malcolm Reynolds.