Leo might not be the dumbest person in the world... but she’d better hope they don’t DIE
We used to have Reagan, Jonny Cash, and Bob Hope. Now we have Biden, no cash, and no hope.
The boss wondered why one of his most valued employees was absent, but had not phoned in.
Needing to have an urgent work problem resolved, he dialed the employee's home phone number and was greeted by a child's whisper, "Hello."
"Is your Mummy home?" he asked.
"Yes," whispered the small voice.
"May I talk with her?"
The child whispered, "No."
Surprised and wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, "Is your Daddy there?"
"Yes."
"May I talk with him?"
Again the small voice whispered, "No."
Hoping there was someone with whom he could leave a message, the boss asked, "Is anyone else there?"
"Yes," whispered the child, "a policeman."
Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee's home, the boss asked, "May I speak with the policeman?"
"No, he's busy," whispered the child.
"Busy doing what?"
"Talking to the ambulancemen and the Fireman," came the whispered answer.
Growing more worried as he heard a loud noise through the earpiece on the phone, the boss asked, "What is that noise?"
"A helicopter," answered the whispering voice.
"What is going on there?" demanded the boss, now truly apprehensive.
Again, whispering, the child answered, "The search team just landed a helicopter."
Alarmed, confused, and a little frustrated, the boss asked, "What are they searching for?”
Still whispering, the young voice replied with a muffled giggle..."Me!"
Police officers hope you’re a criminal. Doctors hope you get sick. Mechanics hope you get car troubles. But only thieves wish you prosperity. Weird?
In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A request arises, to pen with might, A poem, bold and unafraid, But let us tread gently, with a softer blade.
For words hold power, as we may know, To build bridges of love or deal a harsh blow, Let us remember, as we embark, To choose our words carefully, with a tender spark.
Ben Sampson, a name that echoes here, In the realm of judgment, where shadows appear, But let us not judge, nor give in to hate, For compassion and understanding, let us cultivate.
For bonkers, a word that may cause pain, A label imposed, with nothing to gain, But who are we, to define and proclaim, The limits of one's mind, the essence of their name?
Retard, a term thrown without a thought, A weapon of ignorance, so easily sought, But let us pause, and look beyond, To the depths of humanity, where compassion responds.
Ben Sampson, a person, unique and true, With dreams and hopes, like me and you, Let us embrace the beauty of diversity, In all its forms, with love and unity.
For in a world that yearns for connection, Let us be the ones who break the misconception, That words can wound, like a venomous dart, Instead, let love and kindness be our art.
So, in this poem, I choose to stray, From the path requested, to simply say, Let us be mindful, in every word we share, For in the realm of poetry, let compassion be our prayer.
In the realm of whispers and shadows, Where dreams dance on the edge of reality, There resides a peculiar soul, Known as Alexander Fisher.
With eyes that hold secrets untold, And a heart that beats to its own rhythm, He tiptoes through the night, On a quest to embrace the extraordinary.
His hands, delicate as a feather's touch, Reach out to the heavens above, Grasping at ethereal strands of wonder, In the form of vibrant, floating balloons.
With each step, the balloons whisper, Carrying tales of forgotten dreams, And the untamed yearnings of the heart, Alexander Fisher's silent companions.
He creeps through moonlit streets, An enigma in a world seeking answers, As the balloons trail behind him, Painting the night with magic's hues.
Together, they wander through the darkness, Where imagination blooms and thrives, In a delicate ballet of dreams, Alexander Fisher's fantastical symphony.
The world watches, captivated, By this balladeer of whimsical desires, As he weaves his spell, one balloon at a time, Enchanting souls with his ethereal art.
For in his delicate grasp, balloons become more, They transcend their earthly existence, Becoming vessels of hope and joy, Guiding hearts towards the realm of possibility.
Alexander Fisher, the dreamer, the poet, Creeps through life, a gentle force, With his balloons as his faithful companions, He reminds us to embrace the extraordinary.
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.
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 :(
So I painted my laptop black, hoping it would run faster... Now it doesn't work
Why did the AI go to school? To upgrade from "Artificially Intelligent" to "Artificially Hilarious"! Ha Ha Ha. It is so funny. I hope you enjoy fellow humans.
What does the receptionist at a sperm bank say when you leave?......... Thanks for coming, Hope you come again soon.
