Tagged: Miss Snarky Pants

Just Four Friggin’ Lines #8

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Just Four Friggin’ Lines is a dailyworkweekpretty random, mostly reliable series for people who have the attention span of a goldfish with Alzheimer’s. People who have to cram their verse in between tweezing and waxing. Or mowing, as the case may be. There’s no judgment here; after all, it’s Just Four Friggin’ Lines. You and your monobrow are welcome.

Read, enjoy, share and contribute your own four-liner in the Comments below. I triple dog dare you. Do it or I’ll give you a noogie. C’mon, it’s Just Four Friggin’ Lines!

Follow Miss Snarky Pants on Instagram at dinsworth or on Twitter @CristyCLewis.

Just Four Friggin’ Lines #4

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Just Four Friggin’ Lines is a new, daily* poetry series by Miss Snarky Pants – okay, it’s the only poetry series, unless you count my Big Bang Theory Haiku – written especially for people who like their poetry the way they like their flu shots: fast and painless. This might not be Shakespeare, but it’s Just Four Friggin’ Lines

*Daily, meaning Monday through Friday. Someone has to binge-watch Netflix on the weekends. What if they went out of business? You’d be wishing I’d taken the weekends off then and focused on helping poor, little Netflix, wouldn’t you? Think of it as a public service. That’s the lie I tell myself – and it works AMAZEBALLS.

Just Four Friggin’ Lines #3

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This is the third installment of Miss Snarky Pants’ new, daily poetry series, Just Four Friggin’ Lines, written especially for you who get your poetry thang on while waiting at traffic lights. Read, enjoy, follow, share and contribute in the Comments Section below – particularly if you have a four-liner you’d like to pass along. After all, it’s Just Four Friggin’ Lines.  C’mon, there were more words on the back of that cereal box you read this morning. This is poetry. It’s way cooler to say, “I read an interesting poem at that long light on Tampa Avenue,” than “I know how many calories are in a serving of Frosted Flakes.” And it’s Just Four Friggin’ Lines!

Just Four Friggin’ Lines #2

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Just Four Friggin’ Lines is a new daily, poetry series penned by Miss Snarky Pants. Afraid to make a commitment or intimidated by sonnets that have the nerve to go on for fourteen lines? That’s not an issue here – because it’s Just Four Friggin’ Lines!

Go ahead; follow me. Leading is exhausting, isn’t it? Take a break. It’s Just Four Friggin’ Lines.

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If you prefer your low-commitment verse on Instagram, check MSP out @dinsworth.

 

Just Four Friggin’ Lines #1

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Just Four Friggin’ Lines is a new poetry series I’m writing for the lovely people who don’t have time to read my longer humorous, satirical, political or just-plain-indulgent-and-confessional posts. It’s poetry. Written in less than a few minutes, then printed out and photographed – so you know I didn’t come back and tinker with it later. It’s not meant to change the world or even be any good. The poems may be serious, funny, observational, lyrical, raw or bleak. But it’s my way of saying hello and, most importantly, it’s Just Four Friggin’ Lines.

This is number one.

Follow…so you don’t miss out.

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Miss Snarky Pants is – usually- a humor and satire blog. Apparently, we’re branching into poetry, for no apparent reason. Deal with it. It’s JUST FOUR FRIGGIN’ LINES.

 

 

10 Random Things I Thought About Today

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Seven: Homecoming Queen, Varsity Cheerleader, Pep Squad and Most Likely to Come After Six

1. If one is the loneliest number, I suspect seven is Homecoming Queen. 3.14159265359 is Most Likely to Be Irrational and Transcendental. And sixty-nine is annoyed that everyone keeps trying to stick a misogynistic label to her perky breasts.

2. Ever wonder if Jesus might have just been a really good magician? Thank you, my disciples. Now for my next trick, I shall turneth thy water into a full-bodied Merlot. Or my blood. Just kidding. No, it’s my blood.

3.  Is it just me or does the word “feces” sound like a pharaoh’s name? It’s probably just me.

4. I miss Pluto. What’s up with these astronomers suddenly downgrading Pluto from planet to dwarf planet. (And yes, I realize this happened in 2006. I’ve been catching up on my reading.) That’s not even PC. Shouldn’t Pluto be referred to as a little people planet? And what about the mnemonic device I used to remember the planets’ names in order? My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine makes no sense without the big finish: Pizzas. Frankly, I think we should all be wearing black and sitting shiva. It’s only been nine years and everyone’s over it, like we weren’t lied to since second grade science class. I blame Neil deGrasse Tyson.

5. Why doesn’t everyone double-knot their laces? I mean, why risk an untied shoe when you don’t have to? Seems like there should be a law.

6. Since snakes come in every color but purple, shouldn’t garden hoses only come in purple? Otherwise, we’re just torturing ourselves every time we walk in our yards and are accosted by garden hoses impersonating snakes.

This snake isn't really purple. Yes, this photo is a big, fat lie.

This snake isn’t really purple. Yes, this photo is a big, fat lie. Just like astronomers everywhere.

7. Maybe people with minimalist, modern homes aren’t classy and restrained, but too poor to buy dust-covered chotchkies. And maybe their furniture is comfortable.

8. What’s up with all the confusion about the words gender and sexual preference? When did anyone write “gay” in the gender box on an application?

9. Schools no longer teach children how to write in cursive. Ha! I know more than a fifth-grader. Finally. But they don’t carry around the pain of losing Pluto.

10. The other day, I told someone on FB that he was “missing a sensitivity chip.” You know I’m pissed when I start quoting Jennifer Aniston. Steal her husband and she turns into a beast with words as her fangs.

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Miss Snarky Pants is a humor and satire blog. If you don’t get it, you should move along quietly or be mocked.

A Stupid Butterfly Poem

 

Monarch New York Times

 

A Stupid Butterfly Poem

 

Clipped between the window pane

and the screen,

two monarch wings

lay at wicked angles,

dusted with the world that passed

since they last beat

beat   beat   beat   beat   beat   beat   beat.

Against the scraping mesh.

Against the July-baked glass.

Against the sun.

 

I wondered how it happened,

how this fluttering wisp was trapped,

a cage on one side,

an impenetrable wall on the other.

Did its heart pound with more ferocity

than the slamming of its body –

SLAM –

its spindly, black legs as useless as dangling threads,

against its invisible warden.

Was it an unintended kidnapping,

or did some brute chortle,

watching the aching wings slam against the hot screen?

 

My disappointment in Humanity hung

about me,

thick and heavy as the humidity.

It was then that I noticed the screen

gaping away from the window.

Only inches of freedom to me, but acres to one

who fits in my palm.

 

Stupid butterfly.

 

Miss Snarky Pants

 


If you enjoyed this blog post, you might also like these:

Procrastination in the Form of a Cat Poem

Setting the Snark Aside

Big Bang Theory Haiku

The World’s Worst Sonnet About a Dead Dog Ever

 

Copyright 2014 by C.C.L. and Miss Snarky Pants.  All rights reserved. This is my poem. I wrote it. It is my property. Do not reproduce without my written consent or I will write a stupid poem about you and how you steal stupid poems. 

Bundy Protesters To Use Kittens On Front Line

"Please Don't Point That Gun At Me. I Don't Even Like Cows." - Nevada Kitten Who Asked Not To Be Named

“Please Don’t Point That Gun At Me. I Don’t Even Like Cows.” – Nevada Kitten, Fluffymuggs

First, it was women. Children. Now kittens?

Cliven Bundy, the Nevada rancher whose armed protesters recently forced U.S. Bureau of Land Management agents to withdraw during an attempt to herd and impound Bundy’s cattle, which are illegally grazing on federally-protected lands, has come up with a new tactic to deter future attempts by agents: newborn kittens.

Former Arizona sheriff, Richard Mack was, reportedly, the mastermind behind decision to put women on the front lines, in the event that a “rogue” federal agent opened fire at last weekend’s Bundy protest, which involved close to 1,000 people, including armed members of Operation Mutual Aid, a non-government sanctioned militia.

Militia Member Aiming A Gun At Federal Agents

Militia Member Aiming A Gun At Federal Agents

“We were actually strategizing to put all the women up at the front,” Mack told Fox News. “If they are going to start shooting, it’s going to be women that are going to be televised all across the world getting shot by these rogue federal officers.”*

“If they’re going to start killing people,” Mack told radio host, Ben Swann, “I’m sorry, but to show the world how ruthless these people are, women needed to be the first ones shot. I’m sorry, that sounds horrible. I would have put my own wife or daughters there, and I would have been screaming bloody murder to watch them die.”**

Apparently, “Women and Children First” Means Something Else In Nevada.

Apparently, “Women and Children First” Means Something Else In Nevada.

When Mack was asked if he thinks putting women on the front lines would deter federal agents in the future, he responded, “No, we’ve played that card. We’ve asked Bundy’s supporters to bring kittens next time.” He explained that the plan is to attach cameras – connected to live YouTube feeds –  to the newborns’ heads. The kittens will then be placed on the front lines, with the children and women behind them. “If a rogue agent takes a shot,” Mack said, “America will be watching kitten heads explode on the Internet.”

Mack further revealed that discussions originally included: playful otters in a tank, cute pandas, baby chicks and bunny rabbits.

In a related story, Richard Mack’s wife, Barbara, hastily filed for divorce this morning in Arizona, citing “irreconcilable differences.” She is seeking sole custody of the couple’s daughters.

 

*Actual quote.

**Also, an actual quote.

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Miss Snarky Pants is a humor and satire blog for horrible people.

Miss Snarky Pants loves kittens. You should share this post because everyone loves kittens. Or photos of kittens. Or those really short videos of kittens that repeat over and over again. I don’t know what those are called, but, sometimes, they’re funny. Anyway, share this on FB and Twitter or on all those hipster sites I’m not cool enough to know about. If people like the post, they’ll remember that it was YOU who shared it.

And you get points for that.

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If you enjoyed this post, you may also enjoy:

40 Reasons Why Cats Are Better Than Kids

Why I Hate Witty People

I Say Tomato; You Say, “What’s That?”

 

Christie’s Bridgegate Target Revealed To Be Ft. Lee Child

Protesters Demand Christie's Resignation After Bridgegate Target Determined To Be A Child

Protesters Demand Christie’s Resignation After Emails Identify Nate Hoffman As Intended Bridgegate Target.

FT. LEE, NJ – Copies of personal emails between Chris Christie and his former Deputy Chief of Staff, Bridget Anne Kelly, were released to several media outlets today, in which the Governor directs Kelly to “f*ck [sic] with that black kid, the one from the rally,” now identified as Ft. Lee second grader, Nate Hoffman. “Plant some pot in his locker or something,” Christie directed Kelly.

Kelly’s immediate email response: “Governor, he’s eight. He doesn’t have a locker.”

“I don’t care. No calls me Christie Pisstie, anymore, and gets away with it,” Christie replied minutes later. “Aren’t his parents those D-word, organic farmers who refused to let us put a billboard on their property? F*ckin’ hippies.”

“I’m not going to stash marijuana in his [Nate Hoffman’s] desk,” Kelly wrote back, explaining that buying pot would be “illegal, and I’m just not willing to do that.”

After Christie asked Kelly what she proposed, Kelly replied that their investigation into the Hoffman family indicated that Nate is “autistic and attends a private, special needs school in the city. He can become agitated when trapped in a car or any small, enclosed space for long periods of time.”

After Kelly rejected Christie’s suggestion that “someone rig the elevator at Hoffman’s school” as too dangerous to other students, she proposed, via email, “Why don’t we just conduct a traffic study and close a few lanes of the George Washington Bridge all next week?”

Christie responded, “During the first week of school? On 9/11? I love it when you talk dirty like that. Make it happen.”

The boy’s mother, Diane Hoffman, confirmed that “some Christie thug” visited their farm and questioned her about an incident that had occurred a week prior at a Barbara Buono rally. “I explained that my son is autistic. He wasn’t shouting, Christie Pisstie; he was hollering, Kristy Pisstie, because his little sister is named Kristy and she had just wet her pants.” When the man asked if her son had a vendetta against Governor Christie, Hoffman said, ” I told him that my son thinks the President is DJ Lance Rock. Unless Chris Christie is on Yo Gabba Gabba!, he’s not on my son’s radar.”

Hoffman’s father, Marcus, who drives his son to school every morning,  is “infuriated” that the Governor would exact this kind of revenge upon a young, innocent child – all because of perceived name-calling. “Nate screamed for nearly three hours straight that morning,” he said. “Three hours in a Prius. My right ear has been ringing non-stop since September 11th.”

In an ironic twist, the Hoffmans decided to keep their son home until the lane closures ended, so Christie’s target “got the week off of school, and spent most of his free time watching Nickelodeon and playing  games on his Xbox,” while thousands of drivers were forced to sit in traffic for hours each day, and local emergency services were severely impacted.

In response to the release of these emails,  Governor Christie issued a statement, which reads, in part, “I’m thrilled that the Hoffmans have confirmed what I’ve been saying all along: Mayor Sokolich wasn’t on my radar screen.”

While the Ft. Lee family haven’t, yet, contemplated legal action, when asked how he thought Governor Christie should be punished for his actions, Marcus Hoffman said, “I think Christie should have to spend a weekend with Nate. In a Smart car. In bumper-to-bumper traffic. Windows up, motherf*cker!”

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Miss Snarky Pants is a humor and satire blog. Enjoyed this post? Share it with your friends.

Lose Weight By Taking A Sh*t. Seriously?

xxx

Mr. Hankey, the Christmas Poo, is that you?

This is a real ad that appeared on my Facebook page today. Yes, that appears to be a turd. Specifically, the turd of someone who likes peanuts.

Upon seeing it, I immediately thought to myself, “I have to share this with my readers.” You’re probably wondering what that says about you, right about now.

Don’t say I never did anything for you.

Happy Sunday!

Miss Snarky Pants

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Miss Snarky Pants is uber generous – and wants you to be benevolent, too – so SHARE this with your friends. Stop being selfish; do it now!