Des' Calvinist Love-In

Swiss because, you know, the Reformation. I amuse myself greatly.

Wearing aviator glasses
Rocking the headphones
Eating molasses
Whilst eating corn pone

He thinks he's cool
He thinks he's rad
But he looks the fool
Really, really bad

Whether in the sky
Or on the ground
Bloodshot the color of his eye
Passed out on a mound

Aviator glasses cover the pain
Of a love lost long ago
Of the girl who dumped him again
For his ex-best friend Diego

WORD!!!

...someone please put this thread out of its misery!

WORD!

Misery loves company
And here''s the proof
In comes a member
Named preacher4truth

Haha!

Misery loves company
Here's sovereign grace
where did he go?
there's not a trace!

Of Des' love life
I wouldn't go far
His avatar is strange
But it's not a gay star

Of Des' love life
I wouldn't go near
I have my own wife
That's why I'll steer clear!

(Someone told me once: "You would make a good poet, but you would never know it!")

I was predestined to post here.

Waterboarding babies
Tis what we do
If you ain't a Presby
You play to foo

Presbys think they're right
They think they're the ones
Who have things aright
They bust out in heavenly song

Sadly they're mistaken
And this is no maybe
Seeing they're the only ones
That waterboards a baby

WORD!!!

I like nachos
Said the Presby
The Baptist then quipped
I prefer tacos

Gucamole is my dish
The Presby quickly spoke
I love refried beans
Then the Baptist choked

He gasped for air
But there was none
The Presby just sat
And ate his honey bun

The Presby ordered a beer
Then a shot of tequila, too
Watching that Baptist choke
On refried beans, looking the fool

The Presby ordered a another beer
Two more shots of tequila for the road
The Baptist fell to the floor
As cold as a toad

The moral of this story
When a Baptist is dying
Presbys don't give two shakes
They just laugh until crying

WORD!!!

Those drunken bums...

Mmmmm... Nachos!

I duck out and the evening I return in I find two poems written for me in the love-in.

Sovereign Grace, you Providentially arranged son of a gun. It's good to be back.

GodisLove is here too! It's a party.

There is a kernel of truth
In every tale
As sure the vermouth
Will chase the ale

A Presby awoke
Plans frustrated
A day up in smoke
Sickness unabated

He couldn't lay down
He couldn't stand up
Lest his head pound
And bowels errupt

The Priest sat alone
Within the confessional
A stranger came prone
His story was dismal

'Forgive me please!'
Said in desperation
Now on his knees
Smelled of desolation

'I'm not a Papist
But a son of John Knox
Lend me your ear
Lest God bring the pox'

'My sin isn't drinking
No sir it is not
Doubt your senses
For I'm not some sot'

'Today I seek Rome
For I've brought the Tempest
I've defiled my home
By drinking with a Baptist!'

The Priest put down his wine
And replied with a snicker
'The Presbys are drunks
Baptists hold their liquor'

Presbys grabs his gut
In agonizing pain
Too much alcohol
Oh not not again

He runs to the John
Not knowing which end drops first
Does he do #2
Or vomit till he thirsts?

He takes a guess
Puts his feet in the air
The wrong end comes out
The Presby's in despair

The moral of this story
Is silly but true
Never eat Mexican
And then drink some booze

WORD!!!

Those drunken bums...

A Presby bellies up to the bar
And yells " bartender I want liquor!"
He wants to get drunk
And it makes it quicker

After the first shot
He yells for another
He's mad at his family
Especially his mother

He drinks it quickly
Slams the glass down
Those two shots
And on his face remains his frown

He's hungry and eats some pretzels
Those salty things make his mouth dry
He screams for another shot
Into his hands he begins to cry

He looks at the guy behind the counter
Notices how his appearance is rather stable
In grief, agony, repentance and woe
He realizes he's at the Presbys' Lord's table

WORD!!!

Those drunken bums...