In Mia's world, where bottles and parrots meet, A whimsical symphony takes its seat. With feathers ablaze, the parrots take flight, Their vibrant hues painting the day with delight.
Mia, a dreamer with a heart full of glee, Embraces the beauty for all to see. Her bottles, like whispers of stories untold, Capture the magic that time cannot hold.
Each bottle, a vessel of dreams and desires, Unveiling the soul's deepest fires. They dance in the sunlight, sparkle and gleam, A kaleidoscope of colors in Mia's dream.
Parrots, enchanting with melodies rare, Sing ballads of love, floating through the air. Their voices, like echoes of nature's sweet call, Enchanting all hearts, big and small.
Mia, with reverence, sets the parrots free, To soar across oceans, to distant lands and seas. In their freedom, they find their truest grace, A testament to love's boundless space.
And as Mia's bottles journey afar, They carry her dreams, like a guiding star. Through mountains and valleys, they'll forever roam, In the hearts of dreamers, they'll always find home.
Madden Whiffen, a curious soul, With an appetite beyond control, A bottomless pit, never satisfied, Ingesting all that's placed beside.
From dawn till dusk, he feasts his way, Devouring meals without delay, With gusto he consumes, without restrain, Every morsel, every crumb, he'll obtain.
No dish too large, no portion too small, His hunger insatiable, devouring it all, From succulent meats to delicate greens, He relishes the flavors, savoring each scene.
A culinary adventure, forever he embarks, Sampling cuisines from all walks and arcs, From street food to gourmet, he seeks it all, His palate an explorer, on a constant sprawl.
He savors the spices, the textures, the taste, In a gastronomic journey, no time to waste, For Madden Whiffen, the food is his muse, A symphony of flavors, he'll never refuse.
But caution, dear friends, in this feeding spree, For gluttony can lead to a troublesome plea, Madden Whiffen, beware the consequences, For overindulgence brings no recompenses.
In the realm of cuisine, he reigns supreme, A legend of eating, a man of extreme, Madden Whiffen, the one who eats it all, In his gastronomic pursuit, he stands tall.
So let us marvel at his voracious might, As he devours dishes, day and night, For in Madden Whiffen, we witness the feat, A man who eats everything, a culinary elite.
Jayden March, a name so bold, Never knew the joy of cookies untold. In a world of sugar and sweet delight, He stood apart, an unusual sight.
While others indulged in sugary bliss, Jayden abstained, dismissing the kiss Of chocolate chips and dough so divine, His willpower strong, his resolve intertwined.
No oatmeal raisin or double fudge, Could tempt his taste buds, not even a nudge. For Jayden March, a different path he took, In a world of cookies, he never partook.
His reasons unknown, a mystery untold, Perhaps he sought something purer than gold. Or maybe he craved a different kind of treat, One that couldn't be found in a cookie sheet.
But as the years passed by, curiosity grew, Whispers of wonder, questions anew. Why did Jayden March deny such delight? Was there a secret hidden in his resolute fight?
Some say he found solace in nature's embrace, In the rustle of leaves and the wind's gentle pace. Others believed his heart sought a different reward, In acts of kindness, love freely poured.
Jayden March, a man of mystery and grace, Marched to a beat only he could embrace. In a world of cookies, he found his own way, Leaving us wondering, pondering day by day.
For though he never tasted the sweetness of a treat, Jayden March's story remains incomplete. A reminder to us all, to explore and define, Our own desires, our own paths to find.
So let us celebrate Jayden's unique choice, And listen to the whisper of our own inner voice. For in a world of cookies, may we remember, That sometimes it's the journey, not the taste, we treasure.
Madden, because tissue, I weep Tears like rivers, cascading deep In this world, so full of strife I find solace in this fragile life
Oh tissue, tender and so pure Absorbing pain, a whispered cure Each tear that falls, you gently hold A conduit for the stories untold
In the quiet moments, I confide In your embrace, I can't hide The weight of sorrow, the burden's strain You're there, a balm for every pain
But madden, oh how you disrupt In your chaos, emotions erupt You twist and tangle, hearts collide Leaving us lost, unable to decide
Yet even in your tangled mess You bring forth growth, a rare finesse For in the madness, we find our way To stand tall, facing a brand-new day
So madden, meet tissue, ever entwined In this dance of emotions, our souls aligned Through tears and anger, joy and fears We find strength, as life perseveres
Short and sweet, this tale of strife Unraveling souls, seeking life Madden, because tissue, we may be But we'll rise above, forever free
In fields of gold, where sunshine beams, Monkeys swing and play, it's their dreams. Their fur so soft, their eyes so bright, Picking cotton with delight.
Their little hands so quick and neat, Plucking the cotton, can't be beat. They chatter and laugh, they dance and play, In the fields all day, they'll stay.
Their tails so long, their ears so big, They're quite the sight, it's quite a gig. They're busy as can be, you see, In the fields of cotton, they're free.
So let us marvel at these little thieves, In the fields of gold, they give and receive. Their antics bring us joy and delight, In the fields of cotton, they're always right.
Oh, the monkeys in the trees, they dance and they play, Their fur so soft, their eyes so bright, they chatter all day. Their tails so long, their hands so fine, they swing and they sway, In the trees, they're the kings of the fray.
Their antics bring joy, their laughter so free, They're a delight to watch, as they jump and they spree. Their mischief is contagious, their fun so true, They're a treasure, a gift to me and you.
Their little hands so deft, their feet so light, They swing through the trees, with grace and might. They're a wonder, a marvel to see, A precious gift, a treasure to me.
Me: September is here!
[labor day comes]
Also me (ft. Green Day) “Wake me up when September ends!
Remember back in the day when your TV wouldn't work so you'd bang it a few times?
I tried that with my dishwasher, but unfortunately, she ended up pregnant...
Are you a lollipop? Because I can suck on you all day. Are you an Oreo? Because I eat the cream first. Are you a microwave? Because I’m trying to keep you quiet at 3:00 am. Are you a sprinkler? Cause every time I see you I get wet. Are you makeup? Cause I’d spend hours doing you. Are you a guitar? Because I’d love to hear the noises you make when I play with you. Are you an elevator? Cause I wanna ride you up and down. Most restaurants are closed at night.. but your legs aren’t. I’m not a cashier, but you got a couple of things I wanna check out. Are you Cinderella? Because I can see that dress coming off at midnight. Are you a calendar? Because I want to pin you against the wall. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately... but I hope it’s you. Are you a doughnut? Cause I wanna fill you with cream. Are you a garden? Cause I want to plant some seeds inside of you. Do you sing in the shower? Because if so I need a private ticket of your concert. Are your legs the twin towers? Because I’ll bomb what’s in between. Are you a blanket? Because your on top of me every night. Are you a phone? Cause I like to be on you 24/7. Are you a roller coaster? Because the faster you go, the louder I scream. I’m so jealous of your heart right now because it’s pounding inside of you and I’m not. Are you a popsicle? Cause all I want to do is lick you up and down. Are you a construction worker? Because you got me all bricked up. Are you a fireman? Because you came in hot and left me wet.
Why are carpenters never horny after work? Because they’ve already spent all day getting hammered and nailing things
Today was a really bad day. My mother-in-law was hit by a cab AND I lost my job as a cab driver!
I found a chest of gold in my garden the other day. I wanted to run straight home to tell my wife about it. Then I remembered why I was digging in my garden.
I play saxophone and I like to tell everyone I am a registered s/o (short for saxophone operator) in hopes of one day starting a jazz band, but now everyone looks at me weird, and when I go to house parties to perform, everyone hides their children, but little do they know I LOVE children. For some reason I got multiple restraining orders because I said “I want to touch the kids so they can one day become musicians themselves... like Michael Jackson”, I have then since moved from my hometown to Florida where I can meet up with other s/o’s, and surprisingly they have similar stories to me, but they say they have never even touched a saxophone, but they do like touching kids, which I’m all down for, just me and my buddies showing the new youth their abilities.
Update: i figured out what they meant by s/o is not the same as my s/o :(
A boy was terrible at writing sentences so his teacher gave him an assignment to help with that. The boy was to go home, write five sentences and return to school the next day. When he went home, he took a notepad and a pen and went to his dad for help. His dad was in a very important business call so he angrily shouted at the child “Shut up you Donkey!” The boy noted down that sentence. He next went to his mom who assumed that he wanted to play video games so she said “No my dear, tomorrow.” That was his second sentence. For the third sentence he went to his older brother who was watching football where someone scored a goal so he was jumping up and down yelling “Goal! Goal!” For the fourth sentence he went to his sister who was singing “Spider-Man Spider-Man!”. For the last sentence he went to his grandmother who was cleaning the toilet and singing “Under the toilet, under the toilet”. He went to school the next day and his teacher asked him to tell her the sentences. The boy said, “Shut up you Donkey!” The teacher got angry after hearing this and asked the boy, “Do you want me to slap you?” The boy said, “No my dear, tomorrow.” This made the teacher so angry that she slapped the boy. Immediately he started jumping up and down yelling “Goal! Goal!” The teacher dragged him to the principal’s office as she was fed up with him. The principal asked the boy what his name was to which he replied by singing “ Spider-Man Spider-Man!” She asked him where he lived so he sang “Under the toilet, under the toilet”.
I called my guy friend a cock-sucker the other day, he replied with, "Hey, 20 bucks is 20 bucks."
