ponytail
02-14-2007, 12:21 PM
This is a parody of Max Ehrmann's poem "Desiderata," which hangs framed in doctor's waiting rooms everywhere. I don't who wrote the parody, but as people say when a funny smell appears...it wasn't me.
Deteriorata
Go placidly amidst the noise and waste, and remember what comfort there may be
in owning a piece thereof.
Avoid quiet and passive persons, unless you are in need of sleep.
Rotate your tires.
Speak glowingly of those greater than yourself; and heed well their advice, even though they be turkeys.
Know what to kiss - and when.
Consider that two wrongs never make a right, but that three do.
Wherever possible, put people on hold.
Be comforted, that in the face of all irridity and disillusionment, and despite
the changing fortunes of time, there is always a big future in computer
maintenance.
CHORUS -
(You are a fluke of the universe.
You have no right to be here.
Whether you can hear it or not,
The universe is laughing behind your back.)
Remember the Pueblo.
Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle, and mutilate.
Know yourself.
If you need help, call the FBI.
Exercise caution in your daily affairs, especially with those persons closest to you...
hat lemon on your left, for instance.
Be assured that a walk through the seas of most souls would scarcely get your feet wet.
Fall not in love, therefore, it will stick to your face.
Gracefully surrender the things of youth: the birds, clean air, tuna, Taiwan -
and let not the sands of time get in your lunch.
Hire people with hooks.
For a good time, call 606-4311, ask for Ken.
Take heart in the deepening gloom that your dog is finally getting enough
cheese.
And reflect that whatever misfortune may be your lot, it could only be worse in Milwaukee.
(You are a fluke of the universe.
You have no right to be here.
Whether you can hear it or not,
The universe is laughing behind your back.)
Therefore, make peace with your god, whatever you perceive him to be:
hairy thunderer or cosmic muffin.
With all its hopes, dreams, promises, and urban renewal, the world continues to deteriorate. GIVE UP!
(You are a fluke of the universe.
You have no right to be here.
Whether you can hear it or not,
The universe is laughing behind your back.)
Deteriorata
Go placidly amidst the noise and waste, and remember what comfort there may be
in owning a piece thereof.
Avoid quiet and passive persons, unless you are in need of sleep.
Rotate your tires.
Speak glowingly of those greater than yourself; and heed well their advice, even though they be turkeys.
Know what to kiss - and when.
Consider that two wrongs never make a right, but that three do.
Wherever possible, put people on hold.
Be comforted, that in the face of all irridity and disillusionment, and despite
the changing fortunes of time, there is always a big future in computer
maintenance.
CHORUS -
(You are a fluke of the universe.
You have no right to be here.
Whether you can hear it or not,
The universe is laughing behind your back.)
Remember the Pueblo.
Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle, and mutilate.
Know yourself.
If you need help, call the FBI.
Exercise caution in your daily affairs, especially with those persons closest to you...
hat lemon on your left, for instance.
Be assured that a walk through the seas of most souls would scarcely get your feet wet.
Fall not in love, therefore, it will stick to your face.
Gracefully surrender the things of youth: the birds, clean air, tuna, Taiwan -
and let not the sands of time get in your lunch.
Hire people with hooks.
For a good time, call 606-4311, ask for Ken.
Take heart in the deepening gloom that your dog is finally getting enough
cheese.
And reflect that whatever misfortune may be your lot, it could only be worse in Milwaukee.
(You are a fluke of the universe.
You have no right to be here.
Whether you can hear it or not,
The universe is laughing behind your back.)
Therefore, make peace with your god, whatever you perceive him to be:
hairy thunderer or cosmic muffin.
With all its hopes, dreams, promises, and urban renewal, the world continues to deteriorate. GIVE UP!
(You are a fluke of the universe.
You have no right to be here.
Whether you can hear it or not,
The universe is laughing behind your back.)