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The chair is patient, the chair is kind,

She exists with one reason in mind;

To endure the two warm buns (or people’s bottoms),

Life’s a wheel, but her’s doesn’t spin - she’s stuck down bottom.

                                                                                                                   

She exists for you to sit on,

Not to kick or toss around and be spat upon;

Or worse still, as a weapon in the WWE,

What insult for her to touch the heads of those fatties.

                                                                                                                   

Chairs are not meant for you to stack against the door,

To prevent your teacher from entering the hall;

Nor are they to be thrown at the other party,

When a political meeting goes awry.

                                                                                                                   

You might think it’s funny, but really it’s dumb,

To stick your bacteria-infested bubble gum;

On the bench for the next unsuspecting chum,

To sit on and get it stuck on his bum.

                                                                                                                   

While you sit behind and laugh your ass off,

With your like-minded band of dorks;

Be reminded that you just earned two hell points,

One from the chair, one the chum to whom you point.

                                                                                                                   

It sure sucks to be a chair,

People sit, stand, and fart on you, unaware

That you silently, on your four legs,

Endure the stench and the stink of foul eggs.

                                                                                                                  

While you’re at it, ask yourself,

What did the chair do to deserve this kind of hell;

It’s bad enough that you are overweight,

Reduce the beans and cabbage for gosh sakes!

                                                                                                                   

How would you like it if someone pointed his anus,

At you and with one big grunt release enough flatus;

To fill about twenty-three party balloons,

And rub his stomach, declaring that "It was good!" ?

                                                                                                                   

Not to mention the smell of your shit-filled intestines,

By-product of last-night’s dinner with your friend Celestine;

If you want to pollute my nose with your methane,

Don’t whine when I bombard your ears with words profane.

                                                                                                                   

Talking about dinner, I remember something,

That chairs in coffee shops are subject to the worst hating;

Where smelly, retired fishermen with athlete’s foot,

Would place their feet on them, sometimes exposing their manhood.

                                                                                                                   

With oily fingers, rotten language, and a lot to say,

They sip their coffee while they sit the whole day;

Boasting to their colleagues, competing for ego,

About the trout they caught two years ago.

                                                                                                                  

While they cut each other off, refusing to lose

One of them would start to dig his nose;

He’d pull out a mess of sticky dust and hair,

And proceed to stick it under the chair.

                                                                                                                  

When they finally adjourn and settle the bill,

With the toothpicks in their mouths still;

The grumpy waitress would go into a frenzy,

And splash leftovers on the chairs without pity.

                                                                                                                  

No one cares,

For the chairs;

It’s not fair,

But who cares?

Life’s never fair;

So there.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 19th, 2006 at 11:48 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.