They’re only games but the results can hurt.
Is football coming home? Or not today?
I’m watching England in an Eagles shirt.
And though I schizophrenically assert
it’s football, meaning soccer, it’s okay—
they’re only games. But the results can hurt.
My teams are good, but neither one’s a cert.
It all depends (of course) on how they play.
I’m watching England in an Eagles shirt.
At halftime I switch over, like a flirt
who can’t decide. My sides are up! Well hey!
They’re only games (but the results can hurt).
Then back to football (soccer). Please insert
your accent joke of choice here as I pray,
while watching England in an Eagles shirt.
Thirty-five, ten; three, nil. (Spoiler alert!)
Tomorrow I’ll wake up completely gray.
I know they’re games but these results don’t hurt.
I’m watching England in an Eagles shirt.
“Wherever you stand on Violet Coco, her jailing raises the stakes for climate protest… Coco… was part of a group of four protesters from the activist group Fireproof Australia who blocked a southbound lane on the [Sydney Harbour] bridge just before 8.30am on 13 April this year.” —The Guardian
Where’er you stand,
She’ll think of rising stakes:
Tum, knee, or hand,
I’ll bet poor Violet aches:
Tum, knee, or hand,
I’ll bet poor Violet aches.
Earth’s all awry;
The climate’s all askew;
The bane’s expanding,
But by your standing,
You’ll boost Vi’s standing too
You’ll boost Vi’s standing too
You’ll boost Vi’s STANDING TOO.
Tum, knee, or hand,
Massage for all you’re worth;
Where’er you stand,
Stand firmly with the earth:
Where’er you stand,
Stand firmly WITH THE EARTH.
“Rats in northern India have been accused of eating hundreds of kilograms of cannabis
seized from drug dealers and stored in police warehouses.” –CNN
Cops confiscated weed and tried to store it,
But hungry warehouse rats were jonesing for it—
Or that’s what court officials have been hearing.
Why else would contraband be disappearing?
“Six million Americans carried guns daily in 2019, twice as many as in 2015” —The Guardian
You see that guy ahead of me in line?
I saw him glance my way; it happened twice.
He looks at me again, he’ll pay the price.
I’d guess he’s got a gun—well, I’ve got mine.
This suburb’s now an urban combat zone:
The mall, Panera, church. I’m on the clock,
With ammo by the pound to fill my Glock. Did that dude pull a piece? Wait, that’s a phone.
Some server down at Starbucks gave a smirk
At my Colt .45 and Ruger 9.
This snotty little leftie crossed the line—
I might teach her a lesson after work.
Don’t cut me off in traffic, don’t push through;
I’m on the edge at all times, you can bet.
Do nothing you might not live to regret;
If you get shot, remember: that’s on you.
“Crime coverage on Fox News halved once US midterms were over” —The Guardian
Sean, Tucker, Doocy, Pirro, and the rest
Gave news of crime a strangely sudden rest
The moment voters made their fall selection.
(Don’t worry, they’ll reprise it next election.)
“In a way, there is a kind of genius to the perpetual dissatisfaction of the English: not so much a tyranny of expectations as a police state of expectations, a fascism of expectations.” —The Guardian
It’s like Saratoga all over again—
a woeful reverse for our football campaign,
as General Burgoyne commandeered Harry Kane.
The rout of Iran gave supporters a thrill,
inspiring illusions our team had some skill.
Al Bayt then emerged as our new Bunker Hill.
It’s no use pretending we don’t give a toss,
since scraping a draw feels as bad as a loss.
If Weston McKennie had buried that cross …
We can’t beat the Yanks, to our undying shame—
instead let us take up our favorite game,
and focus attention on who is to blame.
When Empire collapses and Majesty fails,
best celebrate triumphs on tinier scales,
rejoice in the fact we can still conquer … Wales.
“A TSA scanner at the JFK airport detected a feline trapped within a checked suitcase last week. The stowaway cat … was returned to its owner, who was unaware it sneaked into the suitcase of a visiting friend.” —NPR
A kitty in a suitcase.
Oh what a place to play!
But not if it’s checked baggage,
so thank you, TSA.
There’s been some speculation
concerning how it got
inside that piece of luggage.
And was it closed, or not?
Some type of human mischief
is probably the cause.
(Though cats are very clever,
they can’t zip with their paws.)
We need an explanation
concerning this good pet,
who’s safely back at home now
and hasn’t said much, yet.
“These Are the Trendiest Dog Names of 2022 … Fezco … Cassini … Mossberg … Mirabel … Kyna … Mommy … Monka … Tohru … Frederico … Beige” —Reader’s Digest
Gloom in the Newsroom: the front page needing
Something to draw in the fans:
Same after same, with DeSantis leading,
Fuentes and (Kan)ye’s bans.
“Something’s hitting the airwaves!
Dog names now all the rage:
Write up Kyna, Monka, Frederico, Fezco, and Tohru Beige.”
Joy in the Newsroom: the story trending—
Fox and the Mail are toast,
Four more dog names now contending,
Trouncing the New York Post.
“Item’s conquered the airwaves!
Here’s to our next front page:
Write up Mommy, Mirabel, Cassini, Mossberg, and Tohru Beige.”
“Residents… near Boston subjected to attacks and intimidation by group of wild turkeys—
and especially Kevin.” —The Guardian
O woe to the burghers of Boston!
The Terrorist Turkeys have come!
The trouble at first had been lost on
The town, whose reaction was “Yum!”
But no one had counted on Kevin,
The bird with the blade in his beak,
And now his whole harem is revvin’,
And honing their terror technique.
In vain are the kitty-cats yowling,
The puppy-dogs baring their fangs:
The Terrorist Turkeys are prowling,
In devilish, Kevinish gangs!
But though you call Kevin demonic,
One lesson, with luck, has been learned:
Thanksgiving, to some, is ironic,
And tables, though crammed, may be turned.
“Lyft drivers spread the Gospel with ride-hailing ministries… [One driver] understood that his car could become an extension of the church…” —AP
For some of us, having a driver we’re hiring
Attempt to convert us is not an offense;
It might seem a breath of fresh air, and inspiring.
One might feel transported in more than one sense.
But some of us might be insulted a smidgen,
And open the windows to let in the breeze
When drivers start airing out views on religion,
A topic on which one at times disagrees.
There’s one thing, at least, that we all can assert,
And it stands by itself (among other assertibles):
When drivers have riders they hope to convert,
We always prefer that they’re driving convertibles.
“Turtles and tortoises are not commonly considered among the chatterboxes of the animal kingdom, but scientists have found that they have plenty to say if you listen…” —The Times
The tortoise, somewhat slow to walk,
Is startlingly adept at talk,
Including crackles, croaks and clicks
Among his best linguistic tricks.
Throughout a life of long duration,
Effervescent conversation
Isn’t normally a feature
One attributes to this creature.
Clearly, though, it’s quite fallacious
Not to think that he’s loquacious.
Tortoise, dear, what tales you’ll tell,
Now that you’ve come out your shell.