Carrot

Hi everyone. How's it going? Fantastic.

My mom made a scrumptious salmon-carrots-rice dinner tonight. As I was getting ready to turn off the TV and sit down, a freakin' birth control commercial came on. In a panic, I ran around coughing and sneezing and making all sorts of noises hoping to drown out the inevitable. I couldn't find the remote, and by the time I was able to yank the plug out of the wall, it was too late. Now, I may be old-fashioned, but hearing words like "flow" and "heavy" and "periods" right before I sit down to eat makes me downright sick. Seriously. Do we need to hear about these things at dinnertime? I can understand those weird infomercials and whatnot way early in the morning, because the only people that see those are senile old ladies that are way past childbearing years and little kids that have to get up to catch the bus who are too young to understand words like "maxipad" and "women". But DINNERTIME?! Come on, people! Please! No more! No more Yaz! No more anything, please! If it makes me a prude, so be it. Am I so wrong?

Hmph. I don't have much to write about. Business has been slow. Oh, I know! You know what I love?

Doodie. Er, no, wait, pudding! Chocolate pudding! Pudding is one of the greatest inventions by mankind. Where would we be without pudding? Nowhere, that's where. So this is for you, pudding. Enjoy it, and keep on being awesome:

Ode To Pudding
When I am weak with the toils of living,
No longer even breathing, blinking, taking, or giving,
Dare I reach for a gallon of iced cream?
Guaranteed to ache my stomach, and my esteem?
Mayhaps I desire a cake, of vanilla or marble,
Yet the preparation my mood almost certainly will garble,
Nay, please no cookies nor creams nor cakes,
All I require is a prodigious pudding intake,
The glorious substance, magnificent elixir,
Fantastic creation, ultimate fixer,
How can I describe pudding's wondrous texture,
Without turning this psalm into a enjambed, trite lecture?
All I will say is that life is exorbitantly rich
When all that's on your mind is "Pudding on the Ritz"

Thanks for reading. And props to anyone that gets that joke at the end. See ya later!

-J

PS-The poem got screwed up. Thanks Blogger, for your horrible, horrible "text editor" application. You are horrible. Anyway, those lines with one word are supposed to...oh, forget it. I've done this too many times.