Sensitive Saturday

I’ve arbitrarily decided that I will designate Saturday as my day to create poems or insightful, thoughtful fiction.  Thus, Sensitive Saturday.  Also, I’ve decided to make Sunday my day of rest.  Because, like god, I get tired.  So I won’t post anything on Sundays.

My buddy, Govneh, has been posting poetry of hers from grade school that she recently found.  You may be surprised by this, but I also wrote poetry in my formative years.  In high school, specifically.  And like most awkward teenage boys I wrote haikus.

About Spam.

The meat product.

There was a whole website dedicated to spam haikus.  Hundreds of people wrote thousands and thousands of spam haikus.

For some reason I remembered this today.  And so I did a Google search for something that I put on the internet nearly 20 years ago.  Guess it’s true.  Once you put something on the internet, it never leaves.

Here’s what I wrote:

SPAM is a woman
It’s firm, it’s juicy, it’s fun
No one knows but me


Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam
Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam-a-ram
Woogah, woogah, woo


SPAM is my hero
It’s an aphrodisiac
It fills me with joy


SPAM makes you break out
It goes well with pineapples
And is addicting


Mmm, yum yum yummy
Slorpee slorp, slorpee slorp slorp
That sounded like SPAM

If I wrote more, I don’t want to see them.  I would like to say that this was a product of my berserk hormones and complete social ineptitude.  But I’d be lying, because I’m pretty sure I’d write the same thing today if I were put in the same position.

I remember being amazed that I could just hop onto Netscape, type some half-assed lines of spam poetry, and then all of a sudden people all over the world had access to it!  The internet truly changed everything.  It’s evolved so much, though.  We don’t see anything like this out there anymore, right?

I showed you mine, so now you have to show me yours.  Please reply to this post with a spam haiku, okay?

Love you all! Have a great weekend!

10 thoughts on “Sensitive Saturday

  1. I wish that were true. I’m afraid all 100+ episodes of 10 Minutes of Me can’t seem to be found anywhere. I never thought I’d miss that content but now that it’s irretrievable, it hurts me a little. It’s weird how many of those shows I miss, especially the ditch couch shows and the one I did on postpartum depression.
    Huh. Blog post in teh making!


    1. It was like opening a giant door to a warehouse and not seeing the other side. Then it was discovering that it wasn’t a door to a warehouse, but in fact a trap-door to a never-ending pit.


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