W. C. Fields and Charles Bukowski Walk Into a Bar

W. C. Fields and Charles Bukowski walk into a bar. The bartender says, “What’ll y’have?”

Fields says, “M’boy, I’d like two fingers of your finest misanthropy with a shot of vitriol and a splash of bitters in a glass rimmed with salt from the dried tears of crying babies.”

Bukowski ponders for a moment, then says to the bartender, “Make that TWO Reasons to Live.”

Nonsense Verses Thrice

BOB, A WORD
Here’s a word, its name is Bob
It wants to make good friends
Bob hopes you like how he begins
The same way he b-ends

AN ENJOYABLE OF TREATIES (WITH CONSEQUENCES)
Krutherlumps with creamycrumb
And buddlebuns au glubby
Swuzzle down with wizzlefizz
And end up hap and flubby

I HAVE A PAIR OF MITTENS
I have a pair of mittens
I keep them in a drawer
With silky thumbles, handywicks,
And many glovins more.
When midnight enters at the stroke
Of fourteen (in base eight)
The mittens up and walk away
Ain’t that pretty great?

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