The most feckless corrupt Pres in living memory pardons his grifter son.
But not just for deliberately evading taxes and firearms violations. No, Joe went further. His pardon includes all offences he may or may not have committed back to Jan 1 2014 which coincidentally gives him immunity for his time as a Burisma board member as a crackhead earning millions of dollars in Ukraine and millions more influence peddling selling access deals to Russian oligarchs and Chinese companies aligned with the Chinese Communist Party. All with daddy’s knowledge and approval.
Well pardon my French but that is a f***in’ disgrace!
A bird in a button-down shirt and a vest
joined me for coffee, and sadly confessed,
pecking distractedly at a cinnamon roll,
his manner affectingly droll.
What he said, as I sat on my park bench,
was (and I quote), "if you pardon my French",
(he then carefully searched for a term),
and said, "how I do despise worm."
Knowing myself as only
i unfortunately do
My feebles and my foibles
Whence life becomes nothing
but this to me
This i also know i am not
the many but the few
Who take safety and comfort
in routine
As feeling like a postman or a
milkman following the same
old trodden round commute
I fear far more than change
For if nothing new there be
to see or experience
No corner left to turn every
line runs true and straight
I see no point of journeying
a 1 single step further
I'd far rather choose to press
the red button marked stop
get off and eject myself
To anywhere but right here
right now
Because that to me at very
least represents something
yet to be discovered turning
a corner
As yesterday to me is already
old and in the distant past
Truth be told i am far more
interested in what the future
holds and creating fresh new
memories
Than having to constantly
dredge up and ruin my
most joyful cherished
memories of old
To get me through another
day plagued by endless
Da-Jar-Vue
Pardon my French if you
know what i mean
I'd like to say merde
pardon my French it means poop
in English its s...
Old School Flirting that actually worked
Pardon my french but you swivel my chisel and you look as happy as a clam, I am head over heel’s let’s just say, be still my heart. Your my cup of tea and I will bring home the beacon for you I hope you will be there with bells on, your the bee’s knees and the cats meow purrrr
You swivel my chisel*
Your the cats meow purrrr*
You are the bee’s knee’s
Be still my heart*
Bring home the beacon*
Pardon my french*
You look happy as a clam*
I am head over heels*
I’ll be there with bells on*
Your my cup of tea*
Cigars and whisky for dinner
Prostitutes for my prostate
Pardon my french,let me rephrase that
Escorts for my ego
Last night,one big blur
****! it’s 6am,7 missed calls,8 messages
Where are you? On my way to the airport
Cruising altitude,mad hangover with a slight case of emptiness
Empty skies.Endless oceans
Fasten your seatbelts,we are about to land
*clicking sound* heavy sigh
Rye for the spy.Lie for the sky
Oh ****! I think I’m still high
Sharpen my blade, I’m out of ink
Draw blood,let it spill
Directly into that vessel,yes,the cracked one
It will hold.Im certain
It’s held lava from lovers
Walked on thin ice with a heavy heart
Treaded the atlas,forming roads
Burning bridges
The last bridge,a bank teller with a best seller
She was perfect and I wasn’t
Somewhere in that line, lies the truth
Stellar thoughts.
Skies don’t need pilots
Oceans don’t need sailors
Vessels do need cracks,they add character
JGM
PARDON MY FRENCH
She swore like a sailor
and what did it mean?
Did he cuss as a pause...
were their cohorts unclean?
Were their vocabularies lacking
in something rich or refined?
Did they swear in frustration,
were their expletives unkind?
Was she to quit swearing
when dad counts to five?
Did he pay at the cuss jar
in a ten dollar crash dive?
Must they think of real words
and substitute when they can?
Should they change their slang
before, the *#!% hits the fan?
It's a hard thing to do in
replacing letters of four.
His teacher says,"try five,"
Her's says,"try a few more!"
Her Mom says more letters
is just what she needs.
And he tries to count five
but, his Urban impedes.
The kids say, four letters
are not that dirty or bad!
Why must they change them
when they like what they've had.
There is power in speech
and it tells all about us.
So use five letter words
and please, do not cuss.
The kids were too literal
in the teaching they heard.
They discovered, in short,
FIVE, is a four letter word.
By Edlynn Nau
© June 28, 2016
It took forever
But I finally did it
I got God gave it to me
What I needed the most
"No bull s ting"
Pardon my French
Or whatever it is
I can't deal with all the bull s ting
He was throwing at me
What was that that He tried to work on me on?
Have no idea
But it didn't work
Only make me work the harder
Work?
More like mad
But I got it
Sometimes if you feel in your guts that is what you want
You should go for it
Do whatever it takes
But push through
I believe He puts it there for us
To urge us on
Break through the barriers
Do you know that you have stages where you go through with God?
And each one it leads you higher and higher
And you come away with so many gifts
And in effect you become a better person for it
I wouldn't talk to you as if I wouldn't know
I went through it before and many times
And came away with so many gifts
But you just have to push it through
He will lead you
Just follow your feelings and your inner man
They are there for a reason
God's reason
"to help you, me"
Now do you ever want something?
I just want to write funny poems from now on
No more bull ****
Pardon my French
I am tired of always trying
Whether it’s something new
Or something old
Don’t want to do that no more
It can come if it wants to
I ain’t going to get it
There make up my mind
In one second flat
Did I make it clear?
I think so
Who cares
And who knows
Running with the wind
As usual
But this time it ain’t be against the darn wind
There
I said it
It’ ll be whatever
Don’t care
Don’t wanna
Lol
Come if you want to
Not gonna
Lost in the Translation
“Donnez-moi un verre de vin”
My accent seemed strange at the Paris café
They brought me an entire carafe of wine
And I drank it all to my escort’s dismay
When I asked, “Ou est la salle de bain?”
Le confused garcon led me to the alleyway
“Où sont les toilettes?” I tried again
“C'est à l'hôtel,” was all he could say
Groaning, “Sacré bleu, PARDON MY FRENCH!”
I spun and jogged miles to my hotel in haste
Two thousand for airfare, far more for a tutor
Such an investment seems quite a “waste”
When all you want is to relieve yourself
And still cannot locate the proper place
*Assigned phrase for Deborah’s contest: PARDON MY FRENCH
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