Bacon Wrapped Nest Keg

There are many investments in life I wish that I'd bought,
savings tips I wish that my magazine reading had taught.
But the realization I'm now having a little too late,
is that the answer was right there by my dinner plate.
In fact, one is in my entree and the other lies near...
because the investments I missed out on are bacon and beer.

I can't believe I didn't guess they'd increase in value,
it seems like something I would've figured out if I'd tried to.
I've been living on BLTs and Broccoli Salad with Bacon.
I guess those were the first two hints I should have taken.
It appears I wasn't the only person to sub bacon for beef,
nor to drink micro brewed beer for their daily stress relief.

I even know of a recently invented recipe for fried beer...
it won Texas State Fair's "most creative" prize this year.
And if I ever decide I want to mix the two flavors,
I'll refer to this post on bacon beers one blogger savors.
I even have a plan for the next time I'm feeling depressed:
giving the maple bacon donut a long overdue taste test.

But despite all the bacon and beer plans that I've had,
I didn't think to invest and it makes me real sad.
Perhaps pork belly futures are still worth the price,
maybe I could find a micro brew stock that looks nice.
You can be certain I'll be watching what goes on my plate,
trying to foresee the next investment trend before it's too late.

© Rachel Hoyt 2010 All rights reserved.


This rhyme is being shared in Poetry Potluck Week #26.
Click on over to get your poetry indulgence fix.


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Entertainment, Blogs, Comedy, Funny, Opinion, Writing

Feeling Lucky?

(A bonus poem and contest for all of my fans.  I hope life brings you luck whenever it can.)

 

Sometimes I feel like a little spoiled rotten brat,

because although I won this, I'd rather have that.

I have strange luck at scoring myself tickets to shows,
yet continue to whine about my other life woes.
For nearly six years I've lived in a little doll house.
It's a bit more than rustic - my cat has a pet mouse.
Sill, it's affordably priced and conveniently located...
and my extra income must be lost or post dated...
because each time I check my balance online,
there is not enough money.  It's not moving time.
Perhaps I could find a guest house like the Quaids,
and live as a happy squatter the rest of my days.
Still I think I'd wish for my own simple living space,
and hope to win lots of money to make it a cooler place.

© Rachel Hoyt 2010

Arpaio Anxiety

Note: this poem can be sung to the tune of Allan Sherman's song, "Camp Granada".

Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh,
Please retire in Santa Barbara.
Arizona's quickly changing,
Joe Arpaio's posse's rants the world estranging.

The last time I came for a visit,
I heard that he had gone ballistic.
You remember Xochil Peña?
Her poor grandma was harrased at work in Mesa.

All the smart guys seem to hate him,
and he refuses to debate them.
All the times he talks in public,
it seems he thinks he already runs his own Republic.

I'm surprised it doesn't scare ya,
that your neighbors often dare ya,
to volunteer with Arpaio's cronies,
'cuz they've loved him since he began with the pink chonies.

Please leave home, oh muddah fadduh,
stay with me, it's not a bother.
Don't stay there out in the desert where
the crazies think they know what's fair.

Please leave home, I promise you a fun filled time,
fresh produce and good local wine,
oh please don't make me beg,
that state's become a rotten egg.

Dearest Fadda, darling Mudda,
how's my precious, doggie brudda?
I can't wait to, let him kiss me.
Hurry over and admit you also miss me.

Wait a minute, the plan is failing,
crazy's spreading, saneness is flailing.
If he tries to, can we stop this?
Could Arpaio actually win the oval office?!

© Rachel Hoyt 2010 - 2011

Entertainment, Blogs, Comedy, Funny, Opinion, Writing

Teddyphobia Eradication

After hearing the results of a recent survey conducted by Travelodge...
I decided maybe it was time to retrieve my teddy bears from the garage.
Is it possible they'll no longer be seen as just a children's toy?
Will other adults finally admit their teddies still bring them joy?
I'm sure some will write off the facts because they are British,
but I'm hoping some Americans won't be quite that skittish.
Playing each day could be just what we need to endure...
until the economy recovers and we all feel more secure.
If one in four businessmen really do find comfort from them when traveling,
then the firm stereotype about manly men may finally be unraveling.

If you are now wondering about a good first day to play...
I recommend National Bring a Teddy Bear to Work Day.
I think I'll simulate a car pool with stuffed animals,
though I doubt the CHP will tolerate my shenanigans.
I will, however, be sure to avoid any extra ticket,
by ensuring my bears practice safe riding and "click it".
Once at work, they could hang at the empty workstations,
and cover up the recession caused office "evacuations".
It's time we admit we love our teddies more than we say,
and let them bring happiness to an otherwise mundane day.

I am concerned that teddyphobia eradication would have one likely demise:
acceptance of teddy abuse we were once known to despise.
Money laundering through stuffed animals would still be forbidden,
but would beating up Teddy Ruxpin for anger therapy be forgiven?
I'm worried there are lots of guys who've held onto their toys,
to make them do the dangerous tricks they dreamed of as boys.
Perhaps there are women who've saved theirs for the same reason...
they might advocate together for teddy bear hunting season!
Teddies everywhere might never again be safe from harm,
because we finally admitted they have a pseudo-adult charm.

I'm just so torn about how open my teddy love should be...
so conflicted about letting my stuffed animal love roam free...
thinking of the dance offs and tea parties they've missed...
and the years in storage during which they never got kissed...
I decided the best plan would be to take it one step at a time,
so I began by cleaning each to remove the storage grime.
Though stored in closed tubs, black dust somehow got in.
It is apparent I picked the right place to begin.
When I'm done I plan to lay outside and stare into the blue...
while I ponder the question, "What Would Roosevelt Do?"

© Rachel Hoyt 2010 - 2011

9/11 Kooky Commemorative Expressions

911 Commemorative Dollar Commercial - watch more funny videos

When you are driven to find everyday humor in life,
days like 9/11 feel like emotional pinnacles of strife.
On the one hand, people need a laugh even more,
to provide a pause between the sad memories of yore.

But there is a fine line between what's tasteless and what's funny...
commemorating the event vs. just trying to make money.
For me, the funniest things are those that had serious intentions,
such as the following 9/11 kooky commemorative expressions.

First we have a movie trailer for a musical about life post 9/11,
filled with actor written songs which could bring tears from heaven.
If written and sung well, the idea may have succeeded,
but I think the crowd will agree that the message feels impeded.

Next my jaw dropped from the above commemorative dollar commercial...
which I laughed at while feeling disgusting and controversial.
I still don't understand what the heck it has to do with Liberia.
Does US memorabilia money fit their tender exchange criteria?

Last I found the National Collector's Mint's sentimental attempt.
Each coin contains ground zero silver bricks - once solid, then unkempt.
The coin would be simple and beautiful if they'd stopped at polishing it up.
Instead they took it one step further and made the Twin Towers be pop up.

I think the easiest thing to conclude from all the above evidence,
is that some methods for commemorating don't make so much sense.
The scary part is they wouldn't exist without a target consumer.
I wonder if they really were meant to tickle my sense of humor?

© Rachel Hoyt 2010 - 2011

Wierdo Warnings

All California schools train kids on drills for earthquakes,

but not all worry about what to do if the local damn breaks.
Only last week I learned about one school's wacky plan...
The students are to run to the hills as fast as they possibly can!
Run children... run super duper ridiculously quick!
Now that's an evacuation plan that seems purely mythic.
I couldn't believe anyone would call this a safety measure,
but my source had direct knowledge and didn't say it to be clever.

After learning of this very silly sounding idea for disaster refuge,
I had to see if there were other plans written by a twin stooge.
I didn't have to spend too much time searching the Internet,
before I found another example that I won't soon forget.
I'm hoping this plan has been updated by the military...
I find it's semi-recent spotting in San Diego a bit scary.
I agree with Mr. Harrison  - it's nice they're so optimistic,
but don't they realize it also sounds quite fatalistic?

Lastly I found a photo of this freaky warning sign...
the shock value of the image sent a shiver down my spine.
I think it's a mosquito that's carrying off the stick figure,
a sign idea you'd think would face immediate censure.
Just a glimpse, for a child, could cause complete panic,
as it does for many who are unsure if it's a gimmick.
Hopefully these type of weirdo warnings aren't too commonplace...
if they are I'll need a safety bunker to find my happy place.

© Rachel Hoyt 2010 - 2011

This poem was added to the Poetry Potluck on January 9th, 2011
and won me the Kreativ Blogger award from Jingle Poetry.  :o)