Don't know who wrote this, but I found it on craigslist and it cracked me up!
You Little Bast***
Egad! What’s this glutinous hairball-wad thing?
(It’s ME! It’s ME! It’s ME! It’s ME!)
From where did that grapefruit-sized puff of lint spring?
(From ME! From ME! From ME! From ME!)
Who left all that gritty-a** sand in the sheets?
(ME! ME! ME! ME!)
And who shat a doody I smelled from the street?
(Just ME! Yes, ME! All ME-ME-ME-ME!)
You little bast***! I’ll step on your head!
You’re a useless, ubiquitous eunuch.
Your hygiene is questionable and you’re brain-dead.
I’d be happy to punt you to Munich.
Why is there cat hair all stuck to my clothes?
(Ask ME! Ask ME! Ask ME! Ask ME!)
And whose kitty litter adorns the dog’s nose?
(Why, ME! Oh, ME! It’s ME! It’s ME!)
Who’s pi**ed off because of his harvested nuts?
(That’s ME! That’s ME! ME-ME! ME-ME!)
And who spent the afternoon licking his butt?
(ME! ME! It could only be ME!)
You little bast***! I slept not at all!
You were raising the devil at midnight.
There’s a Thing that I cannot explain in the hall,
And the bathroom’s a Superfund site.
Who tripped me up while I carried a beer?
Who stuck his sandpaper tongue in my ear?
Who shed his pelt in the chair where I sit?
Who chased the dog ‘til the wife threw a snit?
Who flung the catnip all over the floor?
Who ran up the bill at the pet superstore?
Who clawed the carpets and scratched up the shades?
Who barfed on the quilt that my great-grandma made?
Who knocked the violets down from the shelf?
And who is insufferably pleased with himself?
Yes, who could this piteous pain-in-the-*** be?
I give you one guess, and the answer is ME!
The lesson is simple, the moral is plain.
Let this feline factoid be burned in your brain:
The curse of a cuddly kitten is that
Unless you first kill him, he’ll soon be a cat.
There is at least one person that thinks my poetry is the most favored, but enough of that.
I like one called The Secret I memorized as a school child. I don't remember who wrote it anymore.
We have a secret, just we three.
The robin and I and the sweet cherry tree.
The bird told the tree, and the tree told me
Nobody knows it but just us three
Of course the robin knows it best
Cause he built the-shan't tell the rest
And laid four little-something in it.
I am afraid I shall tell it any minute.
If the tree and the robin don't peep
I'll try my best the secret to keep
But I know when the little birds fly about
Then whole secret will be out
EDITOR'S NOTE: As a point of clarification, I believe Ms. Tornangel's use of the word "***" was intended to mean "happy"...and not, well, shall we say, "flamboyent"..not that there is anything wrong with that...just sayin, is all...