What a load of bollocks

by Cassandra 7 Replies latest jw friends

  • Cassandra
    Cassandra

    hi everyone
    my sister was sifting through some old papers recently and came across this old poem that she had written for a friend to advise her of her reinstatement. She emailed it to me under the subject above.
    It made us both laugh to remember how crazy we had been. Hope it lightens your day and gives some of you a laugh too.
    love to you all
    Cassandra

    A POEM ABOUT A DISFELLOWSHIPED PERSON
    Disfellowshiped people are lonely and sad.
    Have been very naughty but not necessarily bad.
    Although at times they go to a meeting
    They dont even merit a wink or a greeting

    We have some news of a girl over here
    Remember the one with the fuzzy blond hair?
    Mermories of her are often painfull
    Because at times she was so distainful

    Some times though she made us all laugh
    Like the time she said "I just want to have fun" in the bath.
    (ok people this was when we were getting her organised for her final meeting with the elders)
    Time has gone by she has now learnt her lesson.
    The elders we think have too gained this empression
    So to the elders she went and her problems debated
    And they said "my dear you have been reinstated"
    So with pen in hand she sat down to relax
    And decided to send her best friend a fax.

  • unclebruce
    unclebruce

    g'day Cassandra,

    move over, give this mad deviate a go..

    Take a load of bollocks
    A dozen alcoholics
    twelve pretty sisters
    feet full of blisters
    A dozen young brothers,
    thier fathers and mothers,

    sit 'em in the hall
    facing a blank wall
    tell 'em to stay seated or they're all gonna die
    paradise is comming and we'll all eat apple pie.

    unc, still writing crap

  • Stephanus
    Stephanus

    Vogon poetry is alive and well!

  • unclebruce
    unclebruce

    Alive yes .. but well?

    Oh freddled gruntbuggly thy mictuations are to me
    As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee.
    Groop I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes.
    And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles,
    Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon, see if I don't!

  • ashitaka
    ashitaka

    "A POEM ABOUT A DISFELLOWSHIPPED PERSON"

    an original title, full of vivaciousness and subtle charm!

    the poem is no less enchanting.

    {VOMIT}

  • unclebruce
    unclebruce

    Hey ashitika, what gives?

    Doesn't it lighten your day to read poetry about backroom commitees raping the soul out of young people for the mighty crime of following natures urges? Haven't you any joy in poems about Elders holding out thier forgiveness for lonely women to suck on? Doesn't your heart miss a beat and trip lightly when you read about children being caste out the Kingdom Hall gates to fend for themselves in a world they've been taught to fear.

    you are a strange one .. unc.

  • Gopher
    Gopher

    Unclebruce,

    Thanks for bringing back that wonderful poem from "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"!! Oh freddled gruntbuggly... back atcha!

    GopherWhy shouldn't truth be stranger than fiction? Fiction, after all, has to make sense.
    Mark Twain (1835-1910)

  • unclebruce
    unclebruce

    Gopher,

    This is an official hitchhikers guide to the galaxy entry at the arse end of the poetry section:

    ***

    Vogon poetry is of course the third worst in the Universe.

    The second worst is that of the Azagoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode To A Small Lump of Green Putty I Found In My Armpit One Midsummer Morning" four of his audience died of internal haemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own limbs off. Grunthos is reported to have been "disappointed" by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his twelve- book epic entitled "Zen And The Art Of Going To The Lavatory" when his own major intestine, in a desperate bid to save the universe, leapt straight up through his neck and throttled his brain.

    ***

    The following is supposeddly the worst poem in the universe, though Casandra has given me cause to wonder:

    The dead swans lay in the stagnant pool.
    They lay. They rotted. They turned
    Around occassionally.
    Bits of flesh dropped off them from
    Time to time.
    And sank into the pool's mire.
    They also smelt a great deal.

    Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings
    Greenbridge
    Essex

    ***

    cheers, unclebogan.

    Bogan: (n); a much derided sloth brained creature unique to the southern highlands of new south wales, australia.

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