Tag Archive: spoof

Two burritos appeared on a sign board,

And pretty sure I could eat only one

And be left unsickened, long I stood

And looked on for as long as I could

To the trays that they were served upon.


I saw the large, saucy Macho Beef,

And having perhaps the greater fame,

Since it was quite massive and flaunted meat;

While the weirder Tropical Treat

Had nuts and fruits that might be lame.


And both that evening temptingly lay

In long trays with a paper sack.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

And knowing how tray leads on to tray,

I doubted not I would often come back.


I shall tell this one day with a sigh

By some ruined Mexican fence:

Two burritos appeared on a board, and, yeah —

I took the one less frequently tried,

And that has made all the difference.

  1. Has never won her fantasy football league.
  2. Favorite Avenger: Black Widow.
  3. Has a secret husband, Norris, in Provo, Utah.
  4. Predicted the Pilates revolution.
  5. She insists on making her own meatloaf.
  6. Her sitcom idea about a wacky British colonial administrator with a panther fetish was turned down by the BBC.
  7. Favorite Angela Lansbury film: Bedknobs and Broomsticks.
  8. Had a youthful fling with Bismarck.
  9. Has secret plan to be the first Queen in space.
  10. Her rap name is Lazy-B.

My Bad Poetry #14

The Smell of Poetry


Is that bacon burning in the frying pan?

No, dude, that’s the smell of my new poem.

It smells like words, searing in your brain grease

Droplets of chunky metaphor fat dripping through your neurons.

Can you get a slice of fat-free turkey bacon instead?

No.  These are gristle-packed, thrumming sizzling phrase strips

Globules glistening with dense significations, marbled murkiness.

This poem smells worse than an overheated, oil-soaked carburetor?

Is that what you said?

Some people have useless noses.

Someone left a dainty mango slice on the placemat.

They must’ve mistaken it for a haiku.




Meanwhile, the grease is pooling on the kitchen floor, oozing into coagulations of truth.


Bad Poetry #12

It sucks living with a self-satisfied singer

Who sings about fields and wide open lands

Grows limp facial hair and has on his wrist

Two homemade bracelets and three friendship bands –

Who works part-time jobs at tiny thrift shops

Eats dry oatmeal for lunch and kale for dinner

Wears torn, worn out T-shirts about rampaging cops

And plays beer games with a needle and spinner –

Whose legs are more white than cod on the sand

And whose face is more milky than a vanilla shake

Who whines about how bosses don’t understand

And rent is for losers who live for work’s sake.


Check out my story collection Space Command and the Planets of Doom: http://amzn.to/atEZo9

My Bad Poetry, Nos. 6-10


I gave you the chicken of my dreams

But you just gave me maize.

I dressed him with fine poultry gloves

And stared at him for days.

I strutted through the barnyard

And wore my blackest cloaks –

But you just read St. Augustine

And made medieval jokes.


The Pope who kissed my mother

Was much fatter than the other

Who tittered in faded robes

While the stout one fondled her earlobes.


Burning down the house

I forgot about her blouse

That I left by the fire parade

With the bowling ball charade.

But afterward, the cops

With their integrated crops

Were able to entangle

The fingernail’s angle.

I gave them forty bucks

And a Sirloin Duck Deluxe.


I once dated a shirtless raccoon

Who managed a drink-free saloon

He ran out of peanuts

And ordered three grilled mutts

But his jukebox did not have the tune.


“I’m going to copyright your head,”

Warned the mayor,

Pointing the gun at the cold cuts.

I tiptoed and got him in a headlock.

Staggering, he sputtered three words:

“Meat.  Rice.  Poultry.”

For more strangeness check out my collection Space Command and the Planets of Doom.  “Highly recommended”  “I loved this book”  http://amzn.to/atEZo9

My Bad Poetry, Nos. 1-5

# 1

I won some erotic pottery

In the California state lottery

But when I used it to mix Mai Tais

The result was really watery.





Whoever cares about


a dead dull aardvark


Glazed with wood varnish


In the gutter next to a Big Mac wrapper?





This one goes out to all the girls in Texas

Who wrestle with cows and eat snakes for breakfast

And tromp yellow roses with their steel-toed boots

And don’t got to IHOP for the fresh fruit pancake specials.


Girls who look the other way when they drive by the Sears

Put guns in their drawers and shots in their beers

And spit out the window at dead armadillos

And sleep in a bed without sheets or duvet covers.



Rhubarb!  Rhubarb!

Does anyone know your ecstasy as I?

Vegetable of the planets –

Serious and unadorned.

A fly in a carriage, or a toad on a tombstone

Cannot taste as good as you.




Don’t bother to call my daughter

My sister-in-law’s a lot hotter

She’s got lips for miles

And Crocs in three styles

And looks great in those thongs that I bought her.

Behind the Tweet #2

Ever since the first installment in my groundbreaking series Behind the Tweet, numerous followers have probably considered asking for a sequel.  And if it wouldn’t be a good idea to do a sequel, why did I call the first post Behind the Tweet #1?


So, in response to possible demand, I present another peek behind the curtain into the process behind some of my most amazing tweets.  This time, we’ll look at the following tweet:


Idea for story #15  Mocked as a child, Papaya Boy grows up to save America from a mutant coconut invasion.


The first hints of this tweet came into being with the simple image of Papaya Boy.  There are plenty of superheroes out there named after animals, insects and even pieces of camping equipment.  (Green Lantern!)  But what about superheroes inspired by fruit?


The young Papaya Boy would be one of those oddities in the schoolyard, playing by himself with his fruit action figures, carving heroic sculptures from unripe bananas and plotting his early efforts to defeat the malignant coconut mutants.


But after a fateful adolescent trip to Indonesia, where Papaya Boy is mentored in harnessing and channeling his Papaya powers by Tiki-Bono, the wizened Fruit Sage, and handily defeats the Palm Frond People, he returns to his hometown and shows the bullies just what shortsighted troglodytes they really were.


You can imagine his future adventures could bring him into repeated conflict with some of the great fruit villains in the universe.


So that is another astonishing peek behind the scenes at another amazing tweet.  To see this tweet and others of the same ilk follow me @brianhenry63

Behind the Tweet! #1

This blog post is the first is an amazing, groundbreaking series taking you behind the scenes to what goes on in the production of some of my favorite tweets.  After a great deal of consideration, I’ve decided to call the series ‘Behind the Tweet’!


The first tweet to be distinguished in this manner is my recent tweet of January 24:


Idea for story #10: Truman Capote Jr. gets a lifeguard job in Palm Beach where he saves three orphaned alligators from a hurricane.


As you’ll notice, this tweet in itself is part of a series.  Who doesn’t love series?  You, the innocent blog reader, are probably already waiting for ‘Idea for a story #11’!


This post came to me when I had the hilarious idea, ‘What if Truman Capote had an illegitimate bastard son who looked just like him – and could maybe be played by Mike Meyers in the movie version with a bald cap like Dr. Evil?’ 


The next step in the tweet production process was to imagine Truman Capote Jr. in an unusual situation fraught with dramatic potential.  So after a quick bout of research to insure that Palm Beach was located near the ocean, I came up with the idea of making TCJ a lifeguard.  


The final touch was the heart-wrenching addition of the cute, lovable alligators, who will probably be animated characters in the movie version.


I can already imagine future adventures for Truman Capote Jr., such as a visit to a biker bar and a stint in the Marines.  But that’s why they call it a series!


See this tweet in its natural environment: @brianhenry63

One thing about Wattpad users is they don’t hesitate to let you know where they stand.  In the contest of two concubine covers that duked it out on the Wattpad Facebook page for my latest sci-fi comedy novel, one user indicated “they both suck”.  Also, who can forget the stirring words of Dacry Combs who wondered “What were those people thinking when they made those covers?”.  At least a couple dozen people liked one or the other of the covers enough to vote for them.  In fact, it was a narrow race, even more so than the Iowa caucus.  But due to the people’s choice, I changed to a new illustration-style cover.  Did they make the right decision?  Only you can decide.  Fortunately, I didn’t create either cover, I just wrote the story inside.  Check it out: http://bit.ly/xDXsTT

Concubine Battle!

Vote for your favorite cover for my Space Command & The Bejewelled Concubines on Wattpad’s Cover-Off!  It’s a tale of two concubines, going gown to gown for the title! http://on.fb.me/z9cowk