The Modern Curmudgeon

Goodbye Pontiac and GMC, And Saturn, a farewell to thee. Saab's demise makes me blue Hummer's death? Overdue This is GM -- but now what's the 'G'?

When trying to master your words Adjectives turn into verbs You'll no longer doubt this Once you "inside-out" this As my son has me do with his shirts.

Some children like music or art Still others trend more towards Descartes But mine has eschewed Those for something more rude: "Daddy, I was born to fart."

It's March Madness and tonight I Will root for my team, do or die As I try to ignore That out on the floor Isn't one single chromosome Y.

90 minutes on the phone in a fight For the pay-per-view movie to work right And then, finally, In full screen HD... The 9 o'clock showing of Twilight?

The good news: the prostate's okay And I only feel slightly more gay It was after I hated While still lubricated As the doctor chit-chatted away.

The thought of it's really quite heinous But the doctors insist to maintain us That they have to shove First a hand in a glove Then a finger up into your anus.

Someone should go get a taser And go use it on Brian Grazer Then once he's on the ground They should just go to town On his asinine hair with a razor

From the urinal at work where you Stand there's a disturbing view: In the glare of the wall There's a rear in the wall Of the guy who is sitting to poo.

Two dinners, four bottles of wine Make for a weekend that's fine But when you've work to do These diversions mean you Are still working at 12:49.

He went down for his nap with a hush I went downstairs to work in a rush And though I wrote fast The boy's nap didn't last And so what I accomplished: not much.

Some days in a writers' room Are like being stuck in a vacuum Where you finish your lunch And you have a hunch... But even your hunch meets its doom.

There are places that I will not go Things I prefer not to know So despite all the drama I won't watch Obama 'Cause I can't stomach the Tonight Show

There's a dive bar nearby called Hinano Much about which I simply did not know But now it appears That their burgers and beers Are terrific -- so off to it I go!

Mmm, corned beef and cabbage and lots of Stout and potatoes, but what's off About this repast Is that what we had last Was a whole slab of dark chocolate matzo.

I wish my poor wife would get better But I don't think our two kids will let her Since they don't turn off She's still got a bad cough I swear, it's like they're out to get her.

Today was just one of those days As the sun warmed the earth with its rays You woke praying the moon Would for god's sake come soon 'Cause your kids have you already crazed.

A great restaurant is a place to Really savor the flavors you chew But when you're with your kids Then what makes it great is That nobody complained about you

I just learned there are people who'll Throw parties I say make them fools. Such as the "Bark Mitzvah" Which to me seems just seems it's a Competition to be 'Best in Schul.'

Nature's been said to abhor A vacuum -- but, even more It really can't stand One particular man: 617-27-054

Our bedtime's a bit like roulette That depends on the pillow you get: And when the pillow of death Lands beneath your neck's breadth You awake with a pain you regret.

Before you're a parent the part No one warns you about at the start Is how once they can draw That you'll soon be in awe At the proliferation of art.

A weekend away should delight us. A brief absence should serve to unite us. But from Palm Desert my Wife's returned with pinkeye And a case of severe laryngitis.

A trip to the playground, unplanned. A ride you can spin with one hand. The cries, "Daddy, faster!" And then, the disaster: The vomiting onto the sand.

Tonight we spring forward, which means It's later right now than it seems. And that at six tomorrow (Or five -- do you follow?) I'll be conscious thanks just to caffeine.

I'm taking today as a sign. Because in today's New York Times Along with the bad news The Purim show that Jews Are putting on got a few lines http://tinyurl.com/99awlh

Driving home I was so happy To rush through the rush hour madly Knowing I'd see my sons Before their days were done. And come through the door to hear "Daddy!"

Upon hearing the story of Purim Our preschooler now believes we're in The role of aggressors As parents, oppressors And of this we now need to cure him.

Today in LA we elected (Or perhaps, I suppose, we rejected) The mayor, controller Something about solar... I abstained 'cause I feel disaffected.

I know I should be celebrating That I've lost weight -- and yet I am waiting 'Cause since January I've gained and lost the same three Frigging pounds, which is getting frustrating.

When his blankie and binkie both fall B's ! the baby will call And it's cute as can be Though what's puzzling me Is I know that he can't spell at all.