Saturday, November 05, 2005

I Pushed a giraffe down the stiars.
He had it coming.
The wily way he walked.
So smug it made me sick.
Taking three steps at a time.
Who does that?
He rolled over the railing
And into the parking lot.
Like a sack of potatoes
Except with legs and a neck.
The libraian called 911.
So I karate chopped her cell phone
And told her I had a harpoon.
(I pretty much always carry a harpoon.)
When the police man showed up
He kept asking me why I pushed him
Like it wasn't obvious.
He tried to handcuff me
But I have such small hands
It was useless.
I took his billy club
And threw it in the fountain.
I wished that all giraffes
Would get put in their place.
At the trial the judge was a jerk.
And a giraffe lover.
He gave me life in prison
So I gave him the finger.
If I would have had my harpoon
That judge would have been a goner.
In jail the inmates beat me up
Like I was a punching bag
Except I would bleed alot.

It seems like for some reason
Everyone likes giraffes.
I don't see what the big deal is.