Air Guitar

I sit next to a guy
Who plays the air guitar
I think he's pretty good,
He even has a gig at the bar.

I could take him, though
In a battle of the instruments
I play air Xylophone
At school I have a monument

I did play air therimin once
But people though I was strange
I could tell they were jealous, though
Because of my awesome hand range.

He's totally rocking out now
I think he'll break his neck
It's looking like he now plays,
Air 'noose'  for his paycheck.

Lazy Sunday

I woke up this morning,
With not a lot to do,
I suppose I could get up,
And make some breakfast stew.

I guess I'll just wait
Until I want to eat
But last night I ate
A whole buffet for my treat

I guess I'll do nothing
and stay here in my bed,
Might as well wake up later
Like tomorrow since it's 10(pm)

The Wind Poem

The wind blows,
As all things do,
If they make us mad
Or sad, or blue.

Then they suck
As most things do
When they make us mad,
Or sad, or vacuumed.

Clomb Clomb, Ping Ping

I love to play ping bong,
because of the sound it makes.
It makes it so easy,
To guess the name of the game.

If all sports were named,
But the sounds the game made
Then football would be called:
"Hike ungh, frung, ungh $!#@!$"

If bowling was named,
After the sound that it made
It would be called:
"Brong, fwoo fwooo fwoo FWOO CRUNG UNG UNG UNG"

My favorite, though,
Is the name of a sport,
Of midget tossing farness:
"Ruuh! ShwshshshshshsSHSHSSH Clomb clomb... squeak"

Art

I knew a guy named Art.
He was good with his medium in art.
When he told me what he did, I did fart,
Because he painted with his own butt fart.

I'm all like, what? that is gross
But his income he did gross
Millions of dollars in cash
In his mattress he did cache.

Then one day he drew,
A picture of a guy named Drew
It was so good that he won
The award for being number one.