“Monday”

… Is short for “Mundane-day”

Monday
Image Courtesy: Quotesgram
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The Real Slim Crazy

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Image Courtesy: WallPapersXL

 

(Sing in tune to “Real slim shady”)

Will the loud co-workers,

Please shut up? Please shut up? Please shut up?

 

Ya’ll act like you’re the only one with a microphone,

Jaws on the desk flapping and flapping your gums some more,

And started screaming loud over the phone,

You first were a bore, now you’re a vocal w****

It’s the return of the wilhelm scream,

“You didn’t just ear rape me now, did ye?”

And my doctor said,

“Nothing you idiot, your ear drum has a tear, you can’t even hear straight!”

Then there’s this woman who’s gossiping,

“My husband, I’m done with him

Look at him, not walkin the dog or lending a hand with this or that,

Slipping in dog poo.” “Yeah, but he’s good for something though!”

“Yeah, he screws in all the bulbs but blows a fuse

But no worse than what my sister and her husband go through!

Sometimes she wants to watch a soap on TV and just let loose but can’t

But it’s cool for him to watch sports from dawn till noon

Her rum is on her lips, her rum is on her lips,

And If she’s lucky, this time she might just not slip,

That’s the message she delivers to her little kids,

Expects them not to know what A.Anonymous is.

Of course they’re gonna wanna know how to take shots, and not go out and play

They’ve got social media with no parent control, don’t they?”

We ain’t nothing but annoyed employees, well some of us are on contract,

Who’re so down on the ladder we can’t see nothin but a*******.

But if we can hear your crappy talk and boring news,

There’s no reason for me not to try and judge your use,

But if you feel like you’ve gotta speak, I’ve the antidote,

Think of all the s*** i’ve learned about you splashed on bulletin boards.

Cereal Boyfriend

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Image courtesy, pixabay.com

Corn Flakes and you,
Both taste the same,
A rose smells as sweet,
By any other name..

 

Once, twice, four times,
You played the same game,
My stupid unruly feelings,
I couldn’t but tame.

 

Crunchy munchy goodness,
You promised to be,
But when i supplied the milk,
You turned out pretty soggy,

 

Saying that you’re busy,
Tired, unwell, hungry,
But when you wanted to chase me,
Time you had, a-plenty!

 

Think i ought to change,
The brand i usually buy,
I think i ought to change,
My stereotypical guy,

 

For superficial reasons,
We found each other HOT!
But baby, the thing about cereal,
Is the crack, the fizzle and pop.

 

You seldom have it for dinner,
it’s out of your mind by nine,
And the bowl is washed and stowed,
Till tomorrow’s breakfast time.

 

Just a sugar rush you are,
Just a temporary high,
And once i have been spent,
I’m left up high and dry.

 

Thank you i suppose,
For making me realise,
That you’re just a box of glucose,
And you don’t come with a prize

How she was “saved”

 

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Image courtesy: pixabay.com

The religious fanatics were on the prowl in a recently independent India… At night one of them silently crept into a Hindu village that had failed to convert to Christianity after multiple missionaries were dispatched to ‘educate’ the savages.

“Something HAS to be done. These people need to be saved. I’m spreading the word of the church”, said the man reassuringly to himself, oblivious of the repercussions his actions would have on his soul.

From hut to hut he stealthily propagated, dagger between his teeth, a rosary hanging around his waist.

“In the name of Christ as he was once sacrificed on the cross, I will save them from their earthly sins if they have not yet embraced the word of our Lord.” He chanted as he stifled sleeping women and sliced throats.

Almost all the huts in the little village were purified that night. The manic missionary had but one last little house left.

He made his way in through the kitchen. The embers from the coal stove were dying and cast long shadows on the low ceiling and mud walls.

In the next room slept the woman with the infant. He could hear her breathing deep and long.

As he had done in the last twenty houses he slid his fingers over the hilt of the dagger and tightened his grip, ready to strike.

Just as he raised the evil instrument over his head and moved across the room, the shadow of a cross flickered onto the wall.

“A sign! A sign! The Lord has blessed this house. They have been saved.” He sighed as he stared at the flickering cross.

And then the horror of the act he was about to perform hit him. He was about to take the life of a fellow purified child of God. He would have committed murder most foul and heaven’s doors would have been closed to him forever! They probably already were.

The agony of that realisation was worse than a thousand crucifixions. To be denied entry into the kingdom of heaven after all his noble acts seemed the greatest loss of all. He was about to take a life. And many had been taken already. He had one more to take….

He raised the dagger once more and plunged it deep into his own breast crying as it pierced his heart.

The embers flickered on…casting the cross shaped shadow of a humble gas lighter that innocently hung between two nails on the wall, not knowing that it had saved two lives that night.