A Poem for Chicken-Bee

Who's that sitting in the passenger seat?
Your floppy ears can't be beat.

You have big paws and lazy eyes.
My adoration for you is no surprise.

I can't help but gallop around with you, shoot.
And lay on the ground and wrestle, which is stupid-cute.

I'll wash your pads when they get dirty.
You'll live until you're in your thirties.

Chicken-Bee, Chicken-Bee, you can't be beat.
Goin' to the store, hop in the passenger seat.

Well... there you go, folks. My first entry in like, half a year. This is weird. Just um... uncomfortable. And irrelevant. I guess I should apologize for that. Sorry.

Anyways, hopefully posting this stupid poem that I found in my "drafts" will get me back into the blogging mood again. While I was away, I started a new blog about my roommate at davewomenandchildrenfirstscheurer.blogspot.com and now a few of my friends help me post on it. It's classic and you'll like it whether you like it or not! Also, as I've been reading other blogs, especially my friends', I've noticed the usage of tags as a comedic advice. This is brilliant. Not everyone notices them, but they can be straight-up fucking hilarious. I think I'm gonna give it the ol' Harvard try here. We'll see how it all works out. In the meantime, I'll get to work on shit that makes you all laugh (or cringe) again. And don't forget to eat your greens.

Sk8 or Die,
Craig