XPost: alt.bible

Holy Bog Roller Roulade - Best Use[net] of Bog Roll ---------------------------------------------------

Oh, the art of the subtle retort,
Is a game that we all must support.
But when humor’s a mask,
It’s a difficult task,
To find meaning in words that distort.

You’ve avoided all sin for a while,
With a grin and a rather sly smile.
But your moral compass spins,
In a world full of sins,
Is it virtue or just a bad style?

You claim you're a scholar of faith,
Yet your words are a venomous wraith.
With a twist of the tongue,
You're just bitter and young,
In a game where you've lost all your grace.

With humor that cuts like a knife,
You question the meaning of life.
“Why follow the rules,
Like obedient fools?
When we can just stir up some strife?”

In a digital playground we play,
Where ideas are tossed like a fray.
But the tone that you take,
Is it real or a fake?
Oh, the love that you share, is so fay!

With humor and wit, you do write,
Like a troll you laugh with delight.
But your jests, oh so sly,
Make us question why,
You think you’re the beacon of light.

A conversation so rich and profound,
With sarcasm lurking around.
But the points that you make,
Are they real or just fake?
In this circus, we’re all just spellbound.

In a chat filled with jests and with jibes,
One claimed they were full of good vibes.
Yet the tone, oh so sweet,
Had a hint of deceit,
Like a wolf in a sheep’s woolen guise.

With humor that’s sharp as a knife,
You dance on the edge of real strife.
But your words, oh so sly,
Make me question why,
You’d choose sarcasm over real life.

In a world where the jests often fly,
One wonders just how low you’ll try.
With a quip and a jest,
You think you’re the best,
But the truth? It’s a thin alibi.

A dialogue meant to be grand,
Turns to sarcasm, oh isn’t it bland?
With a fork of the tongue,
Your message is flung,
And respect seems to slip from your hand.

In a thread where the wit’s running wild,
One’s sarcasm feels like a child.
With a giggle and grin,
You think you will win,
But the truth is, it’s all quite reviled.

With a flourish, you claim to be wise,
Yet your jabs are a thinly veiled guise.
In the realm of the chat,
You think you’re all that,
But the truth? It’s a sad little prize.

Here’s to the gunslinger bold,
Whose sarcasm never gets old.
Though he aims for a jest,
It’s a pity, I guess,
That his humor is bitter and cold.

So here’s to the banter we share,
With a wink and a nod, if you dare.
But remember, my friend,
In the end, it’s a trend,
That sarcasm can lead to despair.

--
Lucky Charmin
Holy Bog Roller

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