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Bad Love Poem Contest

Worst of the Worstest


One slow day on the SoHum homestead, Aunt Bee suggested, "Let's have a bad love poem contest for Valentine's." So, we put her in charge of it. First thing you know, we had a cash first prize from proceeds of Cathy's garage sale, and a naughty robot vacuum cleaner, with a tendency to suck up unmentionables left on the floor, for second prize. Ben Baker was appointed judge and entries started pouring in -- some of the baddest love poems ever written. Ben said it was hard to decide since nobody tried to bribe him, but these are the best... er... worst of the worstest.

The worst Badde Pome is...

By LUCY B GOOSEY

More than fungus

More than fungus loves your feet,
More than roadkill loves the street,
More than babies love to pooh,
That is how much I love you.


More than dogs love their ticks,
More than stomach viruses make me sick,
More than kidney stones in your pee,
That is how much you love me.


No. 2 -

By ALICE MASCI

If Life Was an Oyster


If life was an oyster
You'd be the slimy clam
If life was the internet
You'd be the stupid spam
If life was an ocean
You'd be the oil spill
If my life was to be with you
I'd be writing my will


No. 3 -

By MARK BERRYMAN

Ode to Gertie Lee

 

 

 



I know that feller Shakespeare
Who invented fishin' rods
Wrote a lot o' fancy stuff
That jolts like cattle prods.
But I'm a mind ta write a line
Or mebbe two, or three
'bout th' love that I have fer
My gal named Gertie Lee.
Now Gertie she's a keeper
She ain't like ones a-fore
Cuz she's got all th' kwa-la-tees
That men like me a-door.
My Gertie cleans her own fish
She baits th' hook ta boot
And when she takes a swig o' shine
That gal is quite a hoot.
Her hair is gold like corn silk
A-peepin' through the shuck
With rusty brown there at th' root
That matches my ol' truck.
Sairy's got a purty smile
Them teeth are straight an' true
'cept fer that gap there in th' front
She spits her snuff juice through.
Her cookin' gives me pleasure
Th' cornbread it's dee-vine

Her turnip greens with pot likker
Makes me lose my mind.
I'm gonna ask that Gertie Lee
To be my blushin' bride
Jus' soon as I kin find a job
That'll feed her two-ton hide.


At No. 4 -

By LEEUNA FOSTER

To Sarrie Beck Frum Jonny-Bobb



You shure do look purty when you're all dressed up,
sportin them hair bows and that big dip of snuff.
Your eyes are like strawberries, and your three lovely chins
make me long to place kisses on your two rusty shins.
In them short baggy overalls you're a site to behold,
with your one big ole tooth shining yellow like gold.
Your hair is like corn silk right before pickin -
them burnt brown pig tails make my heart stop a tickin'.

You're jest about the purtiest gal I ever seed
from your wrankled up face to your big calloused feet,
and I wuz a wunderin if you'd keep me in mind
and consider on bein my Valentine.

yores fur-ever
Jonny-Bobb


 

At No. - 5

By RICK RANTAMAKI

Thicker Than Water

It's Valentine's Day and I'd like you to know
The story behind when you told me to go
Jump off a bridge on that cold winter's night
When you found me "assisting" that other guy's wife
With the blanket that failed to heat when plugged in
To the outlet beside where my clothes were drying
On the back of the chair which also contained
My tattered old briefs with which I had stained
The wooden headboard that she was holding
Away from the mattress and the box spring
Upon which she thrown the fluffy teddy
Bear that we used to mop up the tea
I spilled on myself while we were watching
The video of our blissful wedding
Day when we vowed that we would be
For better or worse and so you can see
It's not what you saw why won't you believe
The holes in this box are restricting
The air that I breathe and now I can't think
From the loss of the blood I'm using as ink


No. 6 -

CHERYL LEE (aka MamaKat)

Come and listen to my story...

(Sung to the tune of The Beverly Hillbillies theme)

Come and listen to my story bout my boyfriend Joe
A feller you can't trust any farther than you throw
When we first met I believed his love was true
But all that got me was a pot of the Blue
(Ointment, that is. Rub it on. OOOH that stings)


Well the next thing ya know I showed him the door
Then he called up talking sweet like the way he did before
I soon found out that he didn't sleep alone
And he brought more than clothes into our happy home
(Gonorrhea, that is. Gift that keeps ON givin. Grrr.)

Now y'all don't worry cause soon we'll be man and wife
Joe will have to be faithful for the rest of his life
Cause the last time that he and I got into a tiff
I didn't sleep alone, and now we have the syph!
(Syphilis, that is. French disease. Don't worry, Joe,
I'll take care of you.)




Southern Humorists

- Chicken & Road 
- Writing Contest
- Naming a Hamster
- Bad Love Poems
- Boiled Peanuts
- Tipsy Chicken
- Marriage Advice
- Snake Handlin'
- Rhubarb
- Bacon Grease
- Ressel Pees
- Sassafras
- Fried Jelly Beans
- Sneaky Snake
- Snipe Huntin'
- Super Dudes
- Big Butts
- Redneck Car
- Purty Peggy
- Summer Thangs
- Tub O' Lard
- W'men or Girls
- Exclamation Mark
- Cut the Mustard
- Rooster Contest



 

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