If one more person sends me a mushy, moving poem....

The BBQ Pit
1

Goddamnit it, how many times a week am I going to continue to get crap like THIS in my inbox:

> A MOTHERS PRAYER
>
> The things I never told you I’d like to tell you now;
> Of feeling held contentedly inside my heart to swell;
> Of thoughts and dreams, wants and happiness too;
> A mother’s prayer to finally share with you.
>
> Lord, govern their lives as you have mine,
> Touch them with Your sweet divine,
> Make them happy, guide their paths,
> Tickle their funny bones, let me hear their laughs.
>
> Dry the tears sliding down their faces,
> Hold their hands when the love hearts races,
> Make them stand tall when the burdens are great,
> Prepare them to carry the loads of fate…

It goes on about 8 stanzas. I love my mom-related e-mail list, but this sort of stuff keeps making the rounds, sometimes the same sappy poems more than once.

NEWS FLASH: Just because I gave birth, it doesn’t mean I’m suddenly some Helen Steiner Rice fan. I still have some literary standards, and being able to read it sing-song does not make it quality, relevant stuff. Throwing “mom” into a poem does not immediately lift the work to exalted status. And assuming I have heartstrings (much less a heart) that can be affected by this syrupy bullshit is foolhardy indeed.

At least this one didn’t have something like: “Send this to ten loving moms you know, and you too will be blessed!” tacked on to the bottom.

I just know someone will be clamoring for those last stanzas so you can spam this. You’ll have to beg me.

2

You hit the nail on the head with that one. I’m always tempted to reply with the nastiest dirty joke I can find.

3

Right on.

I get those second rate, crappy poems so often that I habitually respond with a request never to send me another one again, followed immediately by “delete.”

The other day, I got in from work and checked my email at home. I had had a really cruddy day, and when I opened my mail, I saw that 75% of it was spammy tripe. For some reason, it absolutely infuriated me, and I responded to the senders in stronger than usual terms. In fact, I used certain colorful expressions and idioms that probably have no place in civil discourse. I got to the last one, some worked-over pablum about a teenage girl that died in a drunk-driving accident because she didn’t mind her parents, and I snapped. I composed a quick, scathing, and quite profane reply. I hit “send,” and just before I deleted it, I realized that I had just thoroughly flamed my 11 year old niece.

Oops. My brother was none too happy. Guess I really am an ogre. :slight_smile:

4

Here’s an anti-mush poem:

"The things I never told you,
I’d like to tell you now;
While I carried you ‘neath my breast,
I bloated like a cow.

I couldn’t eat, or stand strong drink,
They made me throw up in the sink.
And when I was done, to be honest, my son
I would do it all again.

And when labor started, I felt parted,
And I did yell and cry,
My bile rose and that’s why I chose,
To have an only child!"

Alright, maybe I’m no Helen Steiner Rice, but maybe that’s a GOOD thing!

5

I had a miscarriage 6 weeks ago and the day I got back to work I had this e-mail about people who’ve miscarried. I didn’t recognize the sender’s name and none of my friends or family will admit sending it. Not only did it upset me, it really creeped me out not knowing where it came from. I was afraid to reply. Big Brother is not only watching you, he’s sending you smarmy condolences.

6

Ugh. I get these too. And the senders always check in with me later to see how much I loved them. “You write! When I read it I just KNEW you’d love it!” Um…I…appreciate the sentiment. It was…uh…very thoughtful of you to share with me. sigh
I feel awful that I don’t get all warm and fuzzy over this kind of stuff. I never have. And when I have to answer that my tastes don’t lean in that direction, everybody gives me this look like “You probably hate puppies, too.”
Jeesh.

7

I get them, and then “fix” them, either obviously or not-so-obviously. Nobody reads to the bottom of them, anyway, so stick in some dirty words and see if you can get someone to forward it. Here’s an example:

[">'s" added for extra effect and irritation]

> Subject: please read and pass on!!
>
> “I went to a party, Mom”
> I went to a party,
> and remembered what you said.
> You told me not to drink, Mom
> so I had a soda instead.
>
> I felt proud of myself,
> the way you said I would,
> that I didn’t drink and drive,
> though some friends said I should.
>
> I made a healthy choice,
> and your advice to me was right
> as the party finally ended,
> and the kids drove out of sight.
>
> I got into my car,
> sure to get home in one piece,
> I never knew what was coming, Mom
> something I expected least.
>
> Now I’m lying on the pavement,
> And I hear the policeman say,
> The kid that caused this wreck was drunk,"
> Mom, His voice seems far away.
>
> My own blood’s all around me,
> as I try hard not to cry.
> I can hear the paramedic say,
> This girl is going to die."
>
> I’m sure the guy had no idea,
> while he was flying high,
> because he chose to drink and drive,
> now I would have to die.
>
> So why do people do it, Mom
> Knowing that it ruins lives?
> And now the pain is cutting me,
> like a hundred stabbing knives.
>
> Tell sister not to be afraid, Mom
> tell daddy to be brave,
> and when I go to heaven,
> put “Daddy’s Girl” on my grave.
>
> Someone should have taught him,
> that its wrong to drink and drive.
> Maybe if his parents had,
> I’d still be alive.
>
> I’m sure they probably thought of it,
> but maybe it slipped their mind
> Boy, his drinking and carelessness
> have put me in a bind!
>
> If only he’d been sent a poem
> with lots of poorly-formed rhymes,
> The Internet could have told 'em
> What his parents probably told him ten times.
>
> Everyone knows teens listen to parents
> But they listen to MTV more,
> But the thing that teens listen to most
> Is e-mail written by a complete bore.
>
> My breath is getting shorter, Mom
> I’m getting really scared.
> These are my final moments,
> and I’m so unprepared.
>
> Luckily I brought this laptop
> and a wireless Internet connection
> So I’ll jot this poem down real fast
> and send it to everyone in my address book.
>
> But there’s so very little time
> and my laptop’s battery is almost gone
> It’s hard to make all these lines rhyme
> and it doesn’t sound too good.
>
> I wish that you could hold me Mom,
> as I lie here and die.
> I wish that I could say I love you, Mom
> So I love you and good-bye.
>
> We are hoping to get 5,000 signatures on this email and then send it to the president.
> PLEASE SIGN. Francine Imperiale
> IF YOU GET THIS PLEDGE AND DELETE IT, YOUR SELFISHNESS KNOWS NO BOUNDS…
> SUCH A SMALL PROMISE TO MAKE. PLEASE READ THIS STORY AND THEN SIGN THE
> PLEDGE! SIGN IT AND ADHERE TO IT:
> Copy the entire e-mail and paste it into a new e-mail. Then send it to
> everyone you know. Don’t forget to add your name to the bottom!
> Please!!! If you do this, you’ll get a free $50 gift certificate from
> Bath & Body Works and really funny video will play. Do it!
[long list of signatures deleted]

What kills me is the “if you send this you’re great, if you don’t you’re a horrible person” things at the end. Psycho freaks.

Feel free to copy this and send them to the next freak that sends you crappy e-mail. It’s certainly cut down on the amount I receive, I can tell you.

8

I think the next time I get some glurge, I’ll respond like this:

I think they’ll especially enjoy this section:

9

That was it!

Oh, the loathing I felt upon reading it again. Then, the Alka-Seltzer-like fizz of relief I felt upon reading your “modifications.” Thanks for sending that, but I’m more of a “fly by the seat of my pants” sort of guy. You know, assess the mood, circumstances, and other externalities, then turn my ire on the source of the slimy crapola. Dries 'em up every time. I think I made my niece cry, though. :frowning:

I’ll have to make it up to her. Sigh.

10

It’s such a relief to know I’m not the only heartless soul who despises this sort of tripe. My personal theory is that the people who forward these sappy creations are likely to have arrangements of plastic flowers in ceramic bunny-shaped planters. I suspect they favor prints of wistful puppies with big eyes and velvet paintings of any description.

I pledge a month’s pay to the creator of an e-mush filter!

11

When I get annoyed by some Spam or e-mush, I sometimes take the senders e-mail address and copy on to word, where I copy the address about 100 times, copy all 100 and paste in the “To” box.
Then write a message like; “Per your instructions I’m sending this 100 times to someone I know”.

After it’s been sent, send another message saying something like, “Oops sorry, the instructions apparently said, send to 10 people you know, my mistake.”

If they didn’t get the hint the first time, they will figure it out the second time it happens when you double the number of e-mails to 200. Oops I can’t believe I made the same mistake again”.

This is guaranteed to work.

12

Enjoy! If you don’t puke by the end, I’m impressed. Be sure to read the whole thing, especially the end :slight_smile: :slight_smile:
BBBWWWWAHHAAAAAA!

Jenny was so happy about the house they had found.
For once in her life it was on the right side of town.
She unpacked her things with such great ease.
As she watched her new curtains blow in breeze.
How wonderful it was to have her own room.
School would be starting, she’d have friends over soon.
There’d be sleep-overs, and parties; she was so happy
It’s just the way she wanted her life to be.
On the first day of school, everything went great.
She made new friends and even got a date!
She thought, “I want to be popular and I’m going to be,
Because I just got a date with the star of the team!”

To be known in this school you had to have a clout,
And dating this guy would sure help her out.
There was only one problem stopping her fate.
Her parents had said she was too young to date.

“Well, I just won’t tell them the entire truth.
They won’t know the difference; what’s there to lose?”
Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night.
Her parents frowned but said, “All right.”

Excited, she got ready for the big event
But as she rushed around like she had no sense,
She began to feel guilty about all the lies,
But what’s a pizza, a party, and moonlight ride?
Well, the pizza was good, and the party was great,
But the moonlight ride would have to wait.
For Jeff was half drunk by this time.
But he kissed her and said that he was just fine.

Then the room filled with smoked and Jeff took a puff.
Jenny couldn’t believe he was smoking that stuff.
Now Jeff was ready to ride to the point
But only after he’d smoked another joint.

They jumped in the car for a moonlight ride,
Not thinking that he was too drunk to drive.
They finally made it to the point at last,
And Jeff started trying to make a pass.

A pass is not what jenny wanted at all
(and by a pass, I don’t mean playing football).
"Perhaps my parents were right … maybe I am too young.
Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb.

With all her might, she pushed Jeff say away:
“Please take me home, I don’t want to stay.”
Jeff cranked up the engine and floored the gas.
In a matter of seconds they were going too fast.

As Jeff drove on in a fit of wild anger,
Jenny knew that her life was in danger.
She begged and pleaded for him to slow down,
But he just got faster as they neared the town.

“Just let me go home! I’ll confess that I lied.
I really went out for a moonlight ride.”
Then all of a sudden, she saw a big flash.
“Oh God, Please help us! We’re going to crash!”

She doesn’t remember the force of the impact.
Just that everything all of a sudden went black.
She felt someone remove her from the twisted rubble,
And heard, " Call an ambulance! There kids are in trouble!"

Voices she heard… A few words at best.
But she knew there were two cars involved in the wreck.
Then wondered to herself if Jeff was all right,
And if the people in the other car were alive.
She awoke in the hospital to faces so sad.
“You’ve been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad.”
These voices echoed inside her head,
As they gently told her that Jeff was dead.

They said “Jenny, we’ve done all we can do.
But it looks as if we’ll lose you too.”
“But the people in the other car?” Jenny cried.
“We’re sorry, Jenny, they also died.”

Jenny prayed, “God, forgive me for what I’ve done
I only wanted to have just one night of fun.”
“Tell those people’s family, I’ve made their lives dim,
And wish I could return their families to them.”

"Tell Mom and Dad I’m sorry I lied,
And that it’s my fault so many have died.
Oh, nurse, won’t you please tell them that for me?
The nurse just stood there – she never agreed.

But took Jenny’s hand with tears in her eyes.
And a few moments later Jenny died.
A man asked the nurse, " Why didn’t you do your best
To bid that girl her one last request?"
She looked at the man with eyes so sad.
“Because the people in the other car were her Mom and Dad.”

13

So, Zette, the moral of the story is that Jenny should have given Jeff what he needed and there would have been no crash? I’ll have to send that one to my kids’ guidance counsellors. < eg >

14

Cranky, I knew there was a reason why I liked you so much!

GAAAAAGH that stuff just makes me want to hurl! I mean, I know there’s a good message behing it all, and the people that send it usually do mean well, but please! I don’t eat that much syrup with my pancakes! Just stop it, okay? GAAAAAAGH!

15

You said it, sister! Just because my womb is operational, doesn’t mean that my IQ dropped 100 points, or I’ve suddenly become sappy instead of sarcastic. Ok. I’m a sucker for whatever my kids write, but I somehow doubt that they are the ones filling up my e-mail inbox.

One more sappy e-mail, and I’m going to start spamming back. Good suggestion, NiceGuyJack.

16

I’ve been spared the agony of having any of this tripe e-mailed to me thus far, but I’ve had people shove copies of sappy pseudo-inperational poems at me during times of trouble. Usually something like “Don’t Quit”, which pops up in Ann Lander’s column every year or so. Reading this crap usually makes me want to slit my wrists. It’s obvious that the anonymous author has had a fairly easy life, interrupted by, oh, the odd stubbed toe or hangnail here and there, but has experienced no real, serious trials in his/her/it’s life.

What’s worse is going to a clergy-person and having them read you some of this tripe. I expect a priest or minister to have a little more spiritual insight, and be able to deal with me and my troubles as an individual, not just throw a one-size fits all pink fuzzy blanket of a poem over it.

And the moralizing, Mom and Dad, I’m sorry I went out on a date when I said I was at Sue’s house, I apologize profusely for bleeding to death on the highway poems just make me sick. I can’t believe that anyone over the age of about three months gestation would be expected to take this crap to heart.

17

I WANT TO TELL YOU LIES.

I want to tell that little boy, his Mom will be just fine
I want to tell that dad, we got his daughter out in time
I want to tell that wife, her husband will be home tonight
I don’t want to tell it like it is, I want to tell them lies.

You didn’t put their seat belts on, you feel you killed your kids
I want to say you didn’t … but in a way, you did.
You pound your fists into my chest, you’re hurting so inside
I want to say you’ll be ok, I want to tell you lies.

You left chemicals within his reach, and now it’s in his eyes
I want to say your son will see, not tell you he’ll be blind.
You ask me if he’ll be OK, with pleading in your eyes
I want to say that yes he will, I want to tell you lies.

I can see you’re crying, as your life goes up in smoke.
If you’d maintained that smoke alarm, your children may have woke.
Don’t grab my arm and ask me if your family is alive.
Don’t make me tell you they’re all dead, I want to tell you lies.

I want to say she’ll be ok, you didn’t take her life
I hear you say you love her and you’d never hurt your wife.
You thought you didn’t drink too much, you thought that you could drive.
I don’t want to say how wrong you were, I want to tell you lies.

You only left her for a moment, it happens all the time.
How could she have fell from there? You thought she couldn’t climb.
I want to say her neck’s not broke, that she will be just fine.I don’t want to say she’s paralyzed, I want to tell you lies.

I want to tell this teen, his buddies didn’t die in vain
Because he thought that it’d be cool, to try to beat that train.
I don’t want to tell him this will haunt him all his life
I want to say that he’ll forget, I want to tell him lies.

You left the cabinet open and your daughter found the gun.
Now you want me to undo, the damage that’s been done.
You tell me she’s your only child, you say she’s only five.
I don’t want to say she won’t see six, I want to tell you lies.

He fell into the pool, when you just went to grab the phone.
It was only for a second, that you left him there alone.
If you let the damn phone ring, perhaps your boy would be alive.
But I don’t want to tell you that, I want to tell you lies.

The fact that you were speeding, caused that car to overturn
And we couldn’t get them out of there, before the whole thing burned.
Did they suffer? Yes, they suffered, as they slowly burned alive.
But I don’t want to say those words, I want to tell you lies.

But I have to tell it like it is, until my shift is through
And then the real lies begin, when I come home to you.
You ask me how my day was, and I say it was just fine
I hope you understand, sometimes I have to tell you lies.

Dedicated to all the Police Officers, Firefighters, EMTs, Paramedics,
Emergency Flight Crews and all civil servants who deal with the
tragedies of life and death.
The saddest of all, being those that involve children, and could have
been prevented.
Wear your seat belts.
Keep poisons, flammable, fireworks, etc., out of reach of children.
Keep your smoke alarm in operating order, if you don’t have one, get on
Never, ever, drive if you’ve been drinking.
Never leave your toddler unattended.
Teens, be responsible drivers, obey all traffic lights, posted limits,
warnings and signals at RR crossings.
Keep your guns locked and out of reach, buy a trigger guard.

Protect our children, they are our future…
Am I preaching? Am I nagging? I guess I am just telling it like it is…
Or I could just tell you a lie.

Wheeee! The guilt aspect adds a special touch, doesn’t it?

18

Agggghhhh!!
Please God, no more!!!

19

Arghhhh, I detest touchy feely freaking poems and quotes! These icons of ignorance are usually sent around by some idiot that wants you to get all teary eyed over their drivel.
If a person feels the need for a sappy poem or quote then they will seek it out themselves.

20

You finally have to to send them one email.

Dear whomever:
Please do not send me anymore junk email. The next time I will put you on my block sender list.