An Award-Winning Disclaimer

A charming little Magpie whispered this disclaimer into my ear, and I'm happy to regurgitate it into your sweet little mouth:

"Disclaimer: This blog is not responsible for those of you who start to laugh and piss your pants a little. Although this blogger understands the role he has played (in that, if you had not been laughing you may not have pissed yourself), he assumes no liability for damages caused and will not pay your dry cleaning bill.

These views represent the thoughts and opinions of a blogger clearly superior to yourself in every way. If you're in any way offended by any of the content on this blog, it is clearly not the blog for you. Kindly exit the page by clicking on the small 'x' you see at the top right of the screen, and go fuck yourself."

Monday, December 27, 2010

A Chilly Little Poem

I'm no poet.

I don't know why I bother with a disclaimer like that. You're going to find out for yourself soon enough.

I'm Skiing Today

This might be the last day I'm alive,
but I sure hope that is not the case.
With luck I am sure I'll survive,
It won't be skill that saves me with grace.

'Cause I'll fall on my ass and snowplow my face,
Even though I have kick-ass, brand-new ski boots,
I ain't no red-faced, beer-swilling ski-bum called "Ace,"
I'm just another brittle-boned Jew with snow on his toots.

If you see me come down the slope at a high rate of speed,
Get out of my way, or your day will get truly fucked up,
For ski school and training and remediation I need,
I'm the equivalent of lobotomized, newborn, dumb pup.

I'm skiing today.
And you're praying today.
'Cause your boy Apron's in one hell of a lurch.
Like I said yesterday-- if you know what's good, get your ass back in that church.


  1. "I'm no poet." Wow, you're right.

    Eh, just kidding. It's acceptable. Especially because it mentions beer swilling and church.

    Ericka approved.


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