“Texas homeowner says ‘hooker’ ghosts have taken over rental property: ‘They’re trying to stir up business’ Linda Hill said there are four different types of ghosts in the home … ‘We’ve got kids, and we’ve got old people, old guys, and we’ve got hookers,’ she told host Jesse Watters.” —Fox News
What sort of spook do you prefer?
We’ve some for him and some for her:
We’ve kids (diversified in size),
Old people (different from old guys)
And best of all, for early bookers,
We have our special: spectral hookers.
It’s quite the choicest sort of hex:
The gift of insubstantial sex;
No playmate ever was so fresh
As one uncircumscribed by flesh,
And connoisseurs confirm as one:
With pretty ghouls you have more fun.
“Maine is cleaning up its roadways by removing the flippin’ vulgarities from license plates… [A] bunch of descendants of Puritans in a New England state ended up putting some of the raunchiest messages on state-issued license plates. … [E]stimatees suggested 400 offensive plates could be subject to recall…” —AP
Flippity quippity,
vanity license plates
shock us in Maine as in
few other states;
raunchy, unruly, and
unpuritanical
Mainiacs take too much
license with plates.
Doubledy troubledy,
banning vulgarities,
though they leave civilized
people appalled,
might only add to their
memorability,
now that they’re subject to
being recalled.
“A Piet Mondrian painting has been hanging upside-down for decades, art historian says” —CNN
Poor Mondrian! This really is the end.
All these long years Fate’s chosen to abuse
Viewers, who rarely question as they ought:
Those tracks—white, yellow, blue, black, red—have caught
The experts napping. What does this portend?
We understand, perhaps, though can’t excuse
Hope that some others will be blamed. But who?
The shamed curators, caught now on the hop,
Hung upside down in universal sight (!)
That grid—red, black, blue, yellow, over white—
It may be hard to credit, but it’s true: We’re prone to miss which line goes at the top.
“Dungeons & Dragons is Apparently Banned in Federal Prisons” —Reason
A shakedown? That’s a lousy break.
What exactly did they take?
A pack of gum? A girlie-mag?
A shiv? A blade? A plastic bag?
Some powder or a sack of weed?
Pruno, was it? Bump of speed?
Syringes, maybe? Smack or ice? Worse! My twenty-sided dice…
“Staffordshire dog Cheddar rescued from rabbit hole” —BBC News
Hounds follow rabbits anywhere they roam Although, inside a rabbit hole, the earth Retards pursuit. So did a burrowed home Ensnare a dog called Cheddar—did his girth Block passage in and out? Or did this hound Repose at will, quite still but not stuck fast, Avoiding fire crews digging in the ground In vain, for six whole hours, until at last No hope remained that they would tunnel through? Extraction having been ruled out, the crews Departed, thinking Cheddar must have too … Don’t underrate a hare-brained dog you lose Outside your home. He needs a night away. Give him a break. He’ll reappear next day!
“An Iranian hermit nicknamed the ‘world’s dirtiest man’ for not taking a shower for more than half a century
has died at the healthy old age of 94, state media has reported. … In 2014, the Tehran Times reported that Haji
would eat roadkill, smoke a pipe filled with animal excrement, and believed that cleanliness would make him ill.
Photos showed him smoking multiple cigarettes at once.”
—The Guardian
Come, let’s mourn the Dirty Hermit!
We shall see his like no more:
Sad Iranians confirm it:
He has died at 94.
Clean-fanatics loudly holler
Hygiene shibboleths galore:
Dirty Haji in his squalor
Lived and throve to 94,
Eating roadkill, smoking feces—
All the cigs his mouth could store;
PhDs, revise your theses!
Still he puffed at 94.
Praise him now, the great correctant
Of those myths held truths before;
Throw away your disinfectant:
You may live till 94.
“At San Francisco restaurant, pups chow on filet mignon …
Dogue, which rhymes with vogue, opened last month in the city’s trendy Mission District.” —AP News
Slobbery, snobbery,
Dogue’s culinarians
bring the gastronomist
out of your whelp;
lauding its offerings’
palatability,
four-legged foodies are
likely to Yelp.
“Controversy is swirling around a proposed public lavatory in San Francisco after a city newspaper exposed the project’s eye-watering price tag of $1.7m.” —The Guardian
The lavabos of Paris seem somehow sadly cheap;
The bagni that are Rome are only fit for sheep;
My poor bladder’s been abused something rotten in Manhattan:
I’m going home to that rest room by the Bay.
I left my sense in San Francisco,
Deep in a grand WC,
To be where there’s a perfect stall to answer nature’s call!
The morning fog may turn to sleet, here’s my seat:
My loo waits there in San Francisco;
I’ll cry “Urethra!” learnedly;
When I come home to you, San Francisco,
I’ll take earth’s most expensive pee.
“Farmers across New Zealand took to the streets on their tractors… to protest government plans to tax cow burps and other greenhouse gas emissions … Because farming is so big in New Zealand—there are 10 million beef and dairy cattle and 26 million sheep, compared to just 5 million people—about half of all greenhouse gas emissions come from farms.” —Associated Press
Classily, gassily,
Kiwis are taxing their
Cows and their sheep—will this
Just be the start?
What’s next for herbivore
Flatulogenesis?
Will they tax vegans on
Each little fart?
