Little Nell played darts one time

And died during her match.

But Nellie never threw a dart.

She thought it best to catch.

 

Little Nell gave blood one day

And fell all out of sorts.

That giving and so-caring Nell,

Donated fourteen quarts.

-->

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

Little Nell was nervous
So she bit her nails all day.

She died because she didn’t stop

And chewed her hands away.

Steven and his Deadly Cheeks

Steven had some chubby cheeks,
Right below his eyes.
Round and pink and pliable
And of tremendous size.

Steven went out for a walk
And drew his final breath.
A strong wind flapped those cheeks about
And beat poor Steve to death.

Bacon Fat

I ate a bowl of pork-y grease,
A fact that I ain't fakin'.
And now when I go exercise
My sweat smells just like bacon.

Be Careful What You Pick and Eat.

I ate the berry "Straw".
I ate the berry "Blue".
I ate the berry "Raz"
And I ate the "Huckle" too.

I ate the berry "Boysen"
But the fact that stays as single,
I never have and never will
Eat the berry "Dingle

Updated Little Tea Pot song.

I'm a little shot glass
Drip, drip, drop!
Narrow at the bottom
Wider at the top!

Fill me up with whiskey
Drink don't stop!
'Til your liver falls out
Ker-Plop!

Little Nell fell in a wok
And that's not very nice.
She's now known as a "Number 6"
Or simply "Nell Fried Rice".

Snakes

They only use one lip balm tin
Because their lips are very thin.

The Poem That Never Really Worked, About The Cat On My Porch

There was a tan cat that sat on my porch.
It lay in the sun all day long.
I scared it one day and it ran in the street
And got hit by a moving truck that was full of furniture that belonged to that new family across the street, y’know? The Johnsons? Yeah, them. Nice people.

Mr. Craigs Fables: The Hungry Little Slug

Yesterday at 2:00 PM, give or take a week.......

A chubby, little slug crawled under a fence and into a great big garden.
He was feeling a bit hungry as he slowly inched among the rows of vegetables looking for a meal.
"Golly," thought the chubby, little slug. "I sure am hungry. What would taste super-good right now would be some squash."
As the chubby, little slug slowly inched down the row of vegetables and turned to inch up the next row, his little slug eyes almost popped off their stalks with amazement.
There in front of him was a whole row of squash.
"Oh happy day!" cried the chubby, little slug. "Look at all these squash! I will never be hungry again! And they're mine!...ALL MINE!!"
And the chubby, little slug started eating the squash.
munch, munch munch!
munch, munch munch!
munch, munch munch!
Gulp!
It didn't take very long until the chubby little slug had eaten enough squash and he was very, very full.
"I am very, very full," he said through a mouthful of chewed squash. "But I can't crawl away because someone may come by and take all my beautiful squash away from me!"
So he started eating again.
And he ate.
And he ate.
And he ate.
The chubby, little slug ate so much squash the he puffed up to four times his normal size.
"Ooooh my gracious," groaned the chubby, little slug. "I can't eat any more squash! But I can't just crawl away! Someone may come by and take all my beautiful squash away from me!"
So he started eating yet again.
And he ate.
And he ate.
And he ate.
Then suddenly, the chubby, little slug stopped eating.
His little, slug eyes bulged on the ends of their stalks.
His little slug mouth opened and trembled as tiny bits of squash dropped from his little slug lips.
And with a loud and wet-sounding "POP!", the chubby, little slug exploded and showered the vegetable garden with partially digested squash and lots and lots of slug innards.

Why People Go To Parades

It’s not to hear the marching bands
Or hear the bag pipes drone.
It’s not to see the honored Mayor
Or the float shaped like a phone.

It’s not to see the Little League
Or any Boy Scout Troop.
But who’s a-marching behind the horse
And who steps in the poop.

What If Stevie Wonder Were Superman?

Fighting crime would still be his mission.
Just without the X-Ray vision.

Little Nell

Little Nell had hiccups
Of that there was no doubt.
She hiccup-ed once with so much force
Her head turned inside out.

Little Nell

Little Nell spun ‘round and ‘round
And then she spun some more.
She spun around a few more times
And spun right through the floor.

Timmy And Fong

Timmy had a sister and his sister’s name was Fong.
Timmy, who was older, thought his sister’s hair was long.
So Timmy grabbed some pruning shears a-lying next to him
And went into his sisters room to give her hair a trim.

He started cutting on the top and then moved to the back.
The pruning shears went “snick-itty snick” and “clip-itty clip” and “hack”.
But Timmy grew a bit perturbed and thought about just leavin’
Because the haircut he gave Fong was sloppy and uneven.

The top was clean. The back, precise. The bangs, without a flaw.
It was the sides of Fong’s new “do” that stuck in Timmy’s craw.
So Timmy thought and Timmy smiled and Timmy grabbed the shears
And cured his sister’s cock-eyed hair by snipping off her ears.

Refuting The Existence Of Certain Mythical Personas Your Parents Insist Are Real

It’s not the Sandman sprinklin’ dust
It’s tears and dirt that make eye crust.

The Boogey Man will top this list
Because he simply don’t exist.

Another lie is the Easter Bunny.
(I don’t know why they think he’s funny.)

And frozen water condensation
Is the Jack Frost explanation.

But the one that lives and is truly scary
Is the vicious, rabid, fanged Tooth Fairy.

Mr. Craigs Fables: The Other Muffin Man

Thirteen years ago last Tuesday,…………….



Mrs. Glickman opened up her oven door and peeked inside.
“Oh good-y,” she smiled. “They’re done.”
She put on her big, purple oven mitts, reached into the stove and pulled out a pan filled with freshly baked, blueberry muffins.
Smelling the sweet, fruity muffins, Mrs. Glickman placed the hot pan on top of the stove and left the kitchen to give them time to cool.
When she returned 10 minutes later, she noticed that one of the muffins was missing.
“That’s odd,” she said out loud. “I wonder what happened to the muffin.”
“Hah, haa! Wouldn’t you like to know, you big dummy,” said a mocking voice that came from the stove top.
Mrs. Glickman looked down and stood shocked and still when out from behind the tea kettle walked the missing blueberry muffin.
There was a long period of quiet as Mrs. Glickman stared at the little muffin on the stove.
“What are you looking at, Stupid Head,” sneered the muffin.
Mrs. Glickman couldn’t believe she was staring at a walking, talking muffin. Or at how impolite the muffin was.
“What?” shouted the muffin. “You’ve never seen a blueberry muffin before?” The muffin then stuck its tongue out at her.
Mrs. Glickman frowned at the rude, little muffin. She then reached out her hand to pick it up and place it back in the muffin pan with the other muffins who didn’t walk or talk nasty.
“Hey!” screamed the muffin. “Don’t touch me!”
When Mrs. Glickman pulled back her hand, the bad muffin laughed, turned around and wiggled his rear end in her direction.
Then it made “poopie” noises at her.
Mrs. Glickman had had enough of the bad mannered muffin. She reached down and quickly grabbed the muffin as it tried to run back behind the tea kettle.
She then peeled the paper wrapper from around the wriggling, little muffin.
“What are you doing?!?” screamed the muffin. “Why are you taking off my clothes?!?”
With the paper covering removed, Mrs. Glickman then raised the shrieking, little muffin up to her mouth and took a big bite out of it.
As she chewed the mouthful of muffin, the yelling stopped and she got to enjoy the fruity tasting muffin in peace and quiet.
And it was the best tasting muffin she ever ate.

Babies pt. I

Very tiny, little folks
With wretched walking talents.
Their mouths stay open when they walk.
They use the drool for balance.

Babies pt.II

Change is for the better
Or else the diaper just gets wetter.