Haiku
The lowest form of humor meets the lowest form of poetry.
bring me the chainsaw no mere mortal could open this goddamn package come out of my butt you evil turd; don't make me take extreme measures the chile verde may taste hot, but digestion makes it far hotter dale differential is not to be trifled with after eating beans someone has written a haiku about my farts I am very proud the ill truly know diarrhea and sneezing are a tale of woe curses, foiled again the harsh glow of the stage lights made me miss those boobs sure, send some more shots we obviously can't play any worse tonight there are times I wish (often when they are naked) our fans were younger tip your bartender putting up with your bullshit shouldn't come cheaply the beers that we drink are the sand in the hourglass poured out 'til sound check he's a total douche a fucktacular on ice i really hate him i like the haiku five, then seven syllables no room for bullshit we should write a song even shit shines in the rain i bet it would be awesome i said i loved you why'd you set my ass on fire? chili burrito. simple recipe one jam, one song, one concert i just wish they'd stop beer, cigars, krystals resonate bathtub hookah to water my eyes the stench of my balls requires more than mere scrubbing instead, a long soak