Too Hip For My State Room, Daddy-O. by Rippy 6-08-05

It's beatnik poetry night on the Leedo Deck of the Pacific Princess. Skoodlee wah, skoodlee bop. I get all bummed out when I see a cop. Executive Producer: Aaron Spelling. Fascisto corporate suit is bringing me down. Ronald McDonald is his errand boy clown. Welcome aboard. It's Love! That crazy jazz is like heaven, man. Play it loud! I wanna beat the eardrums of that L7, Captain Gavin MacLeod!

Lots of strippers like to put jokes in their comics. Maybe you should try that.

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peddling the funny around since 09/24/2002

Your bringing me down, man! That reply clouds by sunny vibes, Daddy-O. Maybe your four corners keep you from diggin' my thing. I'm just gonna have to put another masterpiece on the wall of your mind's museum, open the door in your medula, and let your conceptions go free.

Too Hip For My Cubicle, Daddy-O. by Rippy 6-09-05

It's beatnik poetry night at the office. Skoodlee wah, skoodlee dee. I know that the boss is out to get me. A Coke machine will be placed in the employee lounge next week. Fat cats and beaureucrats get my goat. F.D.A. trying to push poison down my throat. Now get back to work! Pencil pushing drones gather around the water cooler. "Two 'bills' to see the Stones? Man, that's a lot of 'moola'!"

If you're going to rhyme "cooler" with "moolah", then one of them should be changed to either "coolah" or "mooler."

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Legend, oh legend, the third wheel legend...always in the way.

Chill, Rip. Don't let the moldy fig flip your wig.
Stay cool, cat, and all that.

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