But, E H, my friend,
That is merely counting; there
Must be more than that.
Well, perhaps there is,
but for Straight Dope purposes,
I think that will do.
I think multi-syl-
labic words shouldn’t be frag-
mented. Why? It’s ug-
mented. Why? It’s ug-
ly, and difficult to con-
centrate on rhyming.
Oh, now I have to
figure out rhymes for these things?
June, moon. Happy, now?
Now I am happy.
Let the festivities commence!
Bring out the dancers!
I have to dance, too?
This is too much like work! Plus,
I have three left feet.
Dance, burpo, dance. Pants.
There’s the rhyme. Mutts provide the
nature reference.
Everybody
Do the Burpo! The Wonder
Mutt dance of the year!
Long have I waited
for just such a craze as this;
we all must dance now.
What is the saying
about women preachers and
dancing dogs? Y’know?
Doctor Johnson, right?
A brilliant man, but sexist
even for his time
Dis dog doesn’t dance.
My Momma might Merengue;
Daddy don’t disco.
Daddy don’t disco
Aunt Em ain’t go no rhythm
Uncle Jack’s asleep
Wake him up, won’t you?
He won’t want to miss this thread’s
haiku excitement!
Throwing Alkaline
Batteries into my mind’s
Comic thought bubbles
I dreamt that one last night
You have weird dreams, J.;
don’t think I’ve ever had one
quite like that, my friend.
Dream: Eating a five
pound marshmallow. Woke up; half
my pillow was gone.
Alas! The Pillow
belov’d by the wonder mutt -
It is no longer.
In the same room, two
TV sets are both playing.
Which one obeys the remote?