Category Archives: relaxing

Hi ho, hi ho, where did my three week holiday go? New years resolutions are already taking a battering. (Part four of Hi ho, hi ho.)

Bouncing Back.

Well, I survived my first crazy week back at work
Even though my jerk of a boss drove me berserk.

By Friday I was creeping toward the edge of sanity,
Scarcely able to control my temper, or my profanity.

After my three-week Zen retreat, let’s say, diplomatically
That prat Rich has been acting like a complete prize… dickily.

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Hi ho, hi ho, oh no! It’s off to work we go. Oh, woe is me.

No Holiday Camp.

Tomorrow is the day of reckoning,
The joy of gainful employment is beckoning.

Say, for anotherĀ year
‘I’m happy to be here.’

After my holidays my joyous job holds no allure,
From vacation to vocation, it’s my job to endure.

Who could sleep last night what with the excitement of Santa Claus’ impending arrival? Looking up to the sooty sky I could scarcely imagine the stress on that ol’ coot in the red suit… Anyway , something sparked the imagination.

Merrily On High.

Down the chimney Santa Claus went
But he’s a touch laden down at present,
For Santa may wish to discharge his duty
But Santa Claus is carrying too large a booty.

The dazed and confused residents below
Heard his ‘Yo ho ho’ become an ‘uh-oh.’

Santa was stuck fast ‘neath the chimney pot-
Speaking of which, pot is legal now, is it not?
They puffed and strained to smoke the stout fellow out
But a man of Santa’s weight can butt wait and mellow out.

Whatever happened to peace, empathy and understanding in the community? …Oh.

All Too Cutting.

Out to the quiet garden I did go,
The sun’s a’ shining, seeds to sow,
I brought out the iPhone, the better to hear
iTunes to sooth the memories of last nights beer.

For a sadly hungover sort of fellow
The mornings music should be oh so mellow,
AC/DC is all well and good on a Saturday night-
Not so much in Sunday mornings white bright light.

Humming along to the Beautiful South,
Reviewing my morning vow of nil by mouth,
There came an unwelcome cacophony from next door;
Paul Heaton can’t compete with a mowers infernal roar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inside I went, cursing, back to bed,
Back to nursing my poor pounding head,
Now my neighbors complaint is understood-
Last night he said mine’s a rowdy neighborhood.