You’re a butthead, Mister Grinch
You really are a dink
You have no social graces
And your breath quite frankly stinks, Mister Grinch
You have got to be the…
mother of all finks

You’re obnoxious, Mister Grinch
You’re an unappealing pratt
and the worst thing I can say is
that you still think you’re all that, Mister Grinch
If there was any justice, a streamroller would come along and…
whallop you flat

You’re diabolic, Mister Grinch
you’ve made a Faustian pact
and I would point out all its loopholes
if I didn’t have such tact, Mister Grinch
I wouldn’t have you on my friends list even if…
all my social media got hacked

-The Gneech

(To the tune of “The Beverly Hillbillies”)…

Lemme tellee little story ’bout a man named Nahum [1]
he lived west o’ Arkham and never did any harm [2]
Then one day a hill exploded in his face
and Nahum had to cope with a colour outa space!

(An alien that is. Amorphous. Intangible.)

Well the first thing you know, ol’ Nahum’s lookin’ spare
his kinfolk said, “Nahum, move away from there!”
But Nahum and his folks couldn’t muster up the fight
and the trees and hills were glowin’ in the night

(From radiation, that is. Sickly crops, mutated animals.)

Well now it’s time to say goodbye to Nahum and his kin
not that there’s much left of ’em except some dust and skin
They’re dammin’ up the river and floodin’ the whole place
so now yer drinkin’ water’s full o’ colour out of space!

(Y’all flee for your lives now, y’hear?)

-The Gneech

[1] Pronounced “naaum”
[2] Pronounced in a New England accent, “haam”

EDIT: Maxgoof recorded it! Click through to hear it.

The leg bone’s connected to the arm bone
The arm bone’s connected to the head bone
The head bone’s connected to the telephone
Now cheer the nerds on the job

The left bone’s connected to the right bone
The Fred bone’s connected to the Ethel bone
The football’s connected to the end zone
The lyrics are coming undone

Dem bones dem bones live underground
dem bones dem bones gonna go to town
dem bones dem bones never hear a sound
da dee da dum de da dum

No bone’s connected to the nose bone
my tongue is connected to the Toblerone
Greg Peck was in The Guns of Navarone
da dee da dum de da dum
da dee da dum de da dum
da dee da dum de da dum

-The Gneech

According to Borders, yesterday was “Bad Poetry Day.” On their Twitter feed, they asked for people to send in their bad haiku. And as I have an occasional knack [1] for writing bad poetry, I tossed some submissions their way. (I’ve also included a few responses, indicated by username.)

…

Five syllables and
seven syllables and then
HAIKU! … gesundheit

…

Who writes a haiku
only to pimp their website
go to gneech.com

…

(And since traditional haiku usually is about or at least references nature…)

Rain rain rain rain rain
Rain rain rain rain rain rain rain
Rain rain rain rain rain

…

Twittering haikus
there are so many now, that
Oh no! The Fail Whale!

…

(Starhound joins in…)

Look there at @the_gneech
Tweeting haikus on the net
He is a bit odd

…

(Rebelsheart calls me out on Twitterfail…)

just had to tempt fate
posted prose excessively
@the_gneech broke twitter

…

(JadedFox @ed this one my way…)

Start the day with rock
loud drums and guitars wailing
better than coffee!

…

(Heatherzundel finishes me off…)

Oh wow – so in love
it’s hard to write bad haikus
rock on tweet fail whale.

…

A fun time was had by all. :)

-The Gneech

[1] Not to be confused with an occasional table.

o/`
In the middle of the Earth
in the land of the Shire
was born a scrappy little hobbit
who had a heart of fire
With a long pointy stick
and an aggro-grabbin’ yell
he gives The Boot to his enemies
and sends ‘em straight to hell, Oh!

Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
Only three feet tall!
Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
The most butt-kickin’ hobbit of them all!

Now hobbits are peace-lovin’
folk ya know
but sometimes there are monsters
and they’ve got to go
So Maedhroc hunkers down
and he chucks his spear
then he teaches all those goblins
’bout the Wages of Fear, Oh!

Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
Only three feet tall!
Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
The most butt-kickin’ hobbit of them all!

Well he battled with bandits!
He ambushed some trolls!
He riddled with Bilbo!
Some giants’ Lucky Stone he stole!
He chased down a Nazgul
beat up trees in Old Forest
Fought a giant turtle in a dead king’s tomb, Oh!

Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
Only three feet tall!
Maedhroc!
Maedhroc Thornhollow!
The most butt-kickin’ hobbit of them all!
o/`

-The Gneech, with apologies to Leonard Nimoy

There’s a hole in your soul
where the good thoughts never go
and the hole is made of bones
that are gnawed by a mole
who lives in the hole
at the bottom of your soul
And the mole has a phone
and he calls when you’re alone
But the tone of his phone
is a lonely hollow groan
And when you answer the phone
when you’re called by the mole
who lives in the hole
at the bottom of your soul
where the good thoughts never go
you just moan ’cause you know
that he’s down there all alone
in a hole made of bones

-The Gneech

(Originally posted to my LiveJournal.)