Caveman clubbed woman
So no dinner cooked for him
Man clubs man ever since
haiku by Ken e Hall
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Related quotes
I'm the type of woman you might say is too good. I'll massage a man's feet, have dinner cooked when he gets home. But once they leave, the door is closed, and the locks are changed.
quote by Angie Stone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ballad Of The Caveman
Ill tell you bout a caveman lived a million years ago
When mother earth was young and dinosaurs walked to and fro
His skull contained but half a brain but he didnt mind at all
Hes a hot shot caveman, yah do dah (? )
Who loved to fight and brawl
He walked the misty plate in time to find whatever he could find
Then at last he saw her there, covered with hair
A cavegirl looking right his way, half naked, half well who can say
Such a thing hed never seen before, well then need I tell you more
The caveman fell in love, love, love
And so he wielded his club
Oooh oooh what could he do?
You cant blame a fellow for trying his luck,
Hes just a simple caveman who wanted to---
Well when the cavegirl came around she had some things to relate
About the methods he used to communicate
And she said--
(female spoken)
I never expected a caveman to exhibit much finesse,
But a fifty pound club aint exactly a caress
So if you want to call me, you better learn to talk
Until you learn some manners buddy,
Take a walk!
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Situationer.....
he has been writing
he is thinking and then she calls him for dinner
there is a blackout
and she lights a candle so he can see the fumes of steamed rice
the green color of braised morning glory
he is silent and she does not ask
she does not know whether he has been writing a lot
whether he is lost in the maze of his thoughts
she has cooked dinner for him
she calls his name
it is dinner time and that is the most important hour
she trusts him
he is dying
the needed light for the evening did not come
there are no stars outside the window
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Growing Old Together
Unexpectedly,
Twice as happy,
Half as sad,
whenever you come to pick me up on my way home
even though we had a fight about the dinner I cooked yesterday.
Timmy The Seal
Timmy the Seal was a friend of mine
I'm sorry for I heard He died,
Up in Alaska He was clubbed to death,
So I think, I will sit and cry.
For I remember still when He was a Cub
And the way He use to talk
And the way He smiled through His saddened eyes,
And; His funny walk.
I remember His Mother a good old Girl
And how much She loved Her son
And how She protected Timmy when the Hunters came,
So they killed Her; and Timmy cried so loud.
So into the ocean Timmy ran and jumped,
And swam as fast as He could swim
Though He escaped from the screams and the cries,
But He couldn't escape from where He had been.
For He remembered the cries and the bloody sight
And His friends who were clubbed to death,
And the Hunters who crept through the night,
While carrying those clubs of red.
Timmy the Seal swam back to His home
Just to see if anyone was left,
But all He could find was blood on the snow,
And a Walrus, whose name was Fred;
The Walrus was an ancient one
Whom lived through many of deaths,
And He told Timmy how His family had died,
In one of those bloody nights.
The Hunters all arrived with their clubs
And killed everything that moved
And so went my family, in just one night,
And I knew not what to do.
The Walrus cried and Timmy sighed
Finally knowing how to stop these killings,
Timmy looked at Fred and said unafraid,
I'll show the Hunters we too have feelings, .
So in toward the ocean Timmy jumped and swam,
Leaving the Walrus all alone,
Vowing He'd find the Hunters and stop these killings,
And when He did, He would come back home.
But Timmy never came back home again
I heard this from some friends,
They said Timmy showed the Hunters His sad brown eyes,
So they laughed, and they killed Timmy for His hide.
Timmy the Seal was a Friend of mine
So another tear for me to cry,
For I remember the day Timmy swam away,
For the Walrus, was I.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Woman
The woman I know from long ago
is the woman who did watch me grow.
She cooked and cleaned every day
and was happiest when she listened to me play.
She loved Chopin and Haydn too
and always smiled when I was through.
The woman I knew when I was ill
was always there to warm my chill.
She soothed my brow when I was sad
and laughed me into being glad.
She allowed me space to be alone
and taught me all that she had known.
The woman I remember from my past
gave me memories that will last.
She taught me life is just a test
and that love should be my lifelong quest.
My mom is the woman of whom I write.
She's gone now but still in my sight.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Leapin' Lizards or How to Get the Most Out Your Geico (so easy a caveman can do it)
Hans Kurt Kubus,58, had a 'thing' for lizards.
This German knows his insurance policies,
- and he is no Neanderthal man who likes gizzards.
Kubus, No, not the video game cubis, attached 44 lizards to his body,
He attempted to smuggle them out of New Zealand, Scott free.
Hans had the geckos and skinks within his underwear,
I don't why men put things in there underwear,
I cannot believe they don't care.
Hans did not attempt to light his britches on fire.
As the Muslim terrorist tried to do as he and others flew to Detroit,
The situation was, at the time, dire.
But Hans was caught, he was not as smart as a caveman,
A caveman in New Zealend.
Hans was arrested and sentenced to two weeks in prison and fined $3,450
-before he was deported back to Germany.
Hans Kurt Kubus might try an asp or viper next time around,
-he will probably take pass.
Hans Kurt Kubus is not as smart as New Zealand caveman, -he is a real dumb a$$.
1-31-10
poem by Joe Rosochacki
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Duet
Milestone:
All my troubles disappear,
When the dinner-bell I hear,
Over woodland, dale, and fell,
Swinging slow with solemn swell,---
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
Hippy:
What can bid my heart-ache fly?
What can bid my heart-ache die?
What can all the ills dispel,
In my morbid frame that dwell?
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
Both:
Hark!---along the tangled ground,
Loudly floats the pleasing sound!
Sportive Fauns to Dryads tell,
'Tis the cheerful dinner-bell!
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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She strums my old strings of the heart smoothly
Quietly she rests her head in my bosom
And hums her favorite song sleepily
While I struggle with the ridiculous life.
'Let my tiny cuckoo flies so high
And I watch your acrobats from our cheerful nest.
Today I cooked in a different style
And the dinner is ready on the table with a bottle of Red wine.
Please do not forget the way back my darling
And why so late
Have you been to a strange nest accidentally.'
*[ How sad a Woman lives her entire life in doubts? In her vocabulary she has two fundamental questions.Why so late and why too early? ']
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I'm kind of a dork. I don't have much game. I'm not particularly comfortable in bars or clubs. I much prefer being home playing Scrabble, having dinner with a couple friends, going to see a movie, or losing a whole weekend to Season 14 of Law and Order or The Simpsons.
quote by Wentworth Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dinner Bell
Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
Experimental dog*
Salivating dog
Good dog
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
I dont want a pizza, I dont want a piece of (experimental dog)
Peanut brittle, I dont want a pear.
I dont want a bagel I dont want a bean I wouldnt like (salivating dog)
A bag of beef or a beer or a
Cup of chowder, corn, cake, or creamed cauliflower cause Im (good dog)
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Shoulder, bicep, elbow, arm
Forearm, thumb, wrist, knuckle, palm
Middle, pinky, index, ring
Dinner bell dinner bell ding
I dont know whether Id rather be having a bottle of vinegar (experimental dog)
I dont know whether Id rather be having an egg.
I dont know whether Id rather be having an order of bacon (salivating dog)
Or whether Id rather be having a basket of garlic bread.
I dont know whether Id rather be having some pie or (good dog)
Saving my appetite cause im
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things (Ive been leaving on)
So in the morning when the morning bird sings (the morning)
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket (on my)
til the dinner bell does the bell thing
Dinner bell dinner bell do the bell thing
Im waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chauvinist
I’d never really comprehended such a mighty range of
Shapes and sizes down behind, it’s really rather strange:
The buttock muscle in a woman, overlaid with fat
Is actually such a focal point for men to want to pat
Or squeeze, and then to tease her if it’s eminently stout,
Or even risk a stay in clink to sting it with a clout!
After all, we men are tuned to be that way inclined –
And tho’ our needs are varied, girls, they’re all perverse of mind!
Best of all, our sacred dream: to see her shed her gown
When gliding to the shower for the ritual sponging down.
But then alas! With body lathered, oops! she drops the soap;
‘Please! ’ we beg her, ‘bend and bare! ’ But we can only hope!
I’m sure by now you get the picture – like a rule of thumb –
That men like me obsess all day about the fairer bum.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
My dreams are of a
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
woman woman woman woman woman woman woman
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woman
i look into your eyes
and i still see.... the most
beautiful woman that ever lived.
i still see... fire and rain,
the soft touch of a hand,
the laughing pajama dance...
i still see... the mama who watched
with passionate dedication...
the woman who made love
in the dirt...
the smell, the touch, the feel....
listening to dylan and tom petty,
taking in stray cats.... walking the dogs...
the woman who gets mad, can be
tender and sentimental... who
cooked for her dad and me....
and put up with us while we watched
john wayne yet again....
the girl i walked off with
to find a tomorrow....
the woman i believe in...
the woman i still love....
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alley Oop
Hey hey hey
Da da da
Thats what I say
Da da da
Theres a man in the funny papers we all know
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
He lived way back a long time ago
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Well he dont eat nothin but bearcat stew
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Oh well this cats name is a-alley oop
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Hes the toughest man there is alive
Alley oop
Wears clothes from a wildcats hide
Alley oop
Hes the king of the jungle jive
Look at that caveman go!
Hes got a chauffeur thats a genuine dinosaur
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
And he can knuckle your head before you count to four
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Hes got a big ugly club and a headful of hair
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Hes oohhhh eatin grizzly bear
(*laughter*)
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Forgot the words!
Hes the toughest man there is alive
Alley oop
Wears clothes from a wildcats hide
Alley oop
Hes the king of the jungle jive
Look at that caveman go!
(*scream*)
He rides through the jungle tearin limbs offa trees
(*scream*)
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
And knocking great big monsters dead on their knees
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Other cats dont bug him cos they know better
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
cos hes a mean motor scooter and a bad go-getter
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Well, uh, hes the toughest man there is alive
Alley oop
Wears clothes from a wildcats hide
Alley oop
Hes a hully gully king of jive
(*laugh*)
Well look at that caveman go!
(*scream*)
There he goes
(there he goes.)
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Look at that caveman go
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Ride, daddy, ride
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Heigh-ho, dinosaur
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Oh my goodness, what a big brute he is! hm!
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Oh, how would you like a dinosaur like that, for your own? mm!
(*laughter*)
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
Alley oop oop, oop oop oop
(g minor. d7.)
(what now? what now? )
(just give me a minute.)
(brian, I need a b flat [...]. you know I cant read.)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The economics of baseball are the big problem. The big clubs make a lot of money and the little clubs don't.
quote by Fay Vincent
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I played a lot of tough clubs in my time. Once a guy in one of those clubs wanted to bet me $10 that I was dead. I was afraid to bet.
quote by Henny Youngman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clubs are so lame. Nobody even dances at these clubs. They stand around and get drunk and they schmooze. There is no enjoyment factor.
quote by Shia LaBeouf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't cook - I can cook - but I'm not very good. I like being asked over for dinner, because she can't cook either. We would starve if it weren't for modern technology. I know how to work a microwave, but love home cooked meals.
quote by Mark Mothersbaugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Singing is not indulged in by Rotary clubs of some countries and all clubs are given full privilege to do as they please about including it in their programs.
quote by Paul Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Point Of View
Thanksgiving dinner's sad and thankless
Christmas dinner's dark and blue
When you stop and try to see it
From the turkey's point of view.
Sunday dinner isn't sunny
Easter feasts are just bad luck
When you see it from the viewpoint
Of a chicken or a duck.
Oh how I once loved tuna salad
Pork and lobsters, lamb chops too
'Til I stopped and looked at dinner
From the dinner's point of view.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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