Getting into the swing of this Haiku Friday thing, we’re getting mature about proceedings and covering a grown up topic that adults always discuss: bodily functions.
Yes, Professional Moron is mature. We have standards. We’re noble and have dignity. And that’s exactly why we’ve decided to disgrace ourselves this evening.
Going to the Toilet For a #1
Oh dear, I need to whizz.
Because I drank way too much Bucks Fizz.
God, I shouldn’t have attended this pub quiz.
Going to the Toilet For a #2
Well, here I am doing a poo.
And it kind of feels like I have the flu.
Next time I won’t eat so much shampoo.
Going to the Toilet For a #3
Oh my God, I just had to vomit.
As I listened to that singer’s nauseating sonnet.
It really makes me pray for an apocalyptic comet.
Going to the Toilet to Just Stare at the Toilet
There’s something fascinating about my loo.
Not that I’d ever tell it out of the blue.
I’ll save it for when we’re watching Dr. Who.
Blowing Your Nose
When I have a lot of snot up my nose.
I really feel like blowing it like a hose.
But when I do I’m so loud it pisses off the local crows.
Picking Your Nose
Up my nostril does my index finger go.
Searching around for treasures or tales of woe.
And then I go and stand naked on an ice floe.
Strange Things in the Toilet Bowl
Oh my God, what the hell is that!?
I’m pretty sure it’s not a dead rat.
Perhaps it’s my wife’s least favourite hat?
I’m just so macho that I gotta spit.
But not just because I’m a halfwit.
I’m also a really annoying git.
Strange sensation in my trousers.
Scratching away like crazy, ahhh that’s better.
Why’s my colleague giving me that look? Bloody feminists.
Why is it I always have to sneeze?
I feel like I have a disease.
Maybe that’s why I’m always covered in bees.
Chewing Your Nails
Even though it’s one of life’s biggest fails.
I really like to chew on my nails.
But I’ll spare you the intimate details.
Cracking Your Knuckles
As I sit here at work.
I crack my knuckles loudly like a total jerk.
I just like to cause a bit of irk.
Sometimes when I try to think really hard.
I go out into my back yard.
And if it starts to drizzle, I open my mouth and dribble.
Oh my God, why is my eye so red?
Maybe it’s because I never clean my bed.
I guess I’ll have to go and live in my shed.
Every now and then I need to yawn.
Which I tend to do out on my back lawn.
And if necessary I’ll stand there until dawn.
Why is it that I must burp?
It’s even grosser than when I slurp.
I am such a stupid twerp.
Why does flatulence scandalise us?
Especially if you do it on a crowded bus.
It always causes such a fuss.