Joe Pesci Does Haiku

So I got a ticket yesterday afta noon because I was double parked while picking up my dry cleaning. And okay, I grabbed some bagels and a couple lottery tickets  . .  the newspapers, and alright, I stopped in da liquor store and picked up some Chivas because I never wanna be outta the stuff.

I come outside to find this wackadoo giving me a fucking parking ticket! Can you imagine the noive of dis guy? So I tell him “Yo, what’s the deal? I only been gone like tree minutes? Do ya really gotta bust my chops for being away from my car for tree fucking minutes?!” He keeps writing out the ticket and that really pissed me off. So I told him he wasn’t a meter maid, he was a glorified arcade attendant and I mighta said something about his mudda.

He turns to me and with a straight face . . he says to me “Sir, I am a parking enforcement officer” and then he hands me the fucking ticket! So I says to him, “Yeah, and I’m Jimmy Hoffa”.

Da boss asked me to write a haiku about my experience, so I’ll humor the prick.

A cop wannabe

Putzing around all day long

He can go blow me

Haiku Ca Choo

If you know my blog at all, you know I ain’t down with the haiku. There’s a reason for that, and it’s rather simple. I’m shit for when it comes to budgeting my words. When it comes to thoughts put to paper, I spend more than a Washington bureaucrat after a three Martini breakfast.

That’s why my attempts at poetry and haiku are (unintentionally) hilarious. I don’t dig on greeting cards, I have nothing to talk about on Twitter and I cannot for the life of me figure out how the whole 5 to 7 to 5 thing makes any sense. But . . . Imma try a haiku on for size since it’s Tuesday. And as far as horoscopes are concerned, I’ve given Taurus enough beatings. (Gemini? You’re in my batter’s box).

Without further to do, a haiku.

Things overheard in line at Starbucks

Skim, soy and angry

A specific pettiness

These people suck balls