It is Carry Your Poet To Work Day, minions, a day I am nonetheless selecting to imagine is NOT a typo in order that I can write unhealthy poetry about unhealthy muffins.
My massive face of ambivalence
looms
My small face of nonplussed disillusionment
simply kinda sits there
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For however one wild and joyous second
I assumed that this stated “excrement”
Now removed from being heaven-sent,
My day has been all downhill since
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I spilled my Kool-Assist
The bugs appear to love it
HIDDEN MESSAGE
[[Aliens]]
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two roads diverged in a wooden
I took the one which made like a tree
however by no means leaves
and that has made all of the distinction
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Roses are crimson
However these appear like poo
Cease crying, Rachel
You are getting the icing all gross
Due to Karolyn G., Laurie N., Tiassa, Jenna M., & Norah W. for letting me unleash my inside muse. I will, uh, go clear that up now.
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I used to be going to hyperlink you to a massive alien head with a lava lamp in it, however one thing tells me you would possibly like this higher:
3D Moon Lamp With Distant Management
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And from my different weblog, Epbot:
