That big flashy, not so secret, meeting of plastic surgery anonymous is on tonight. Whoops, it is still called the Oscars at every hall? Damn, I spoiled the inside name. Plastic surgeons everywhere now have me to blame.
Step on down,
With a plastic crown,
A million dollar this or that,
To hide away the fat.
No need to be shy,
Just bat an eye.
The eye lashes are fake too?
Damn, about fake you.
But fake is not the partake,
Of this rhyme I make.
Fake is fake as can be.
Fake is easy to see.
They think fake is not?
Maybe all the fake gave them eye rot?
Hail plastic surgeons everywhere,
They can give them all a blurry stare.
Oh yes, off the fake.
For that is a piece of cake.
Even better is the win.
Nothing like it at any bin.
If old farts vote for you,
You win a golden statue.
But the shine isn't the best part,
Now you have a naked man to take to heart.
No porno films allowed,
With this uptight crowd.
So instead the win is porn.
A naked man on your shelf is born.
But damn, this day in age,
Even that isn't all the rage.
I just got a trophy for coming in 110th place.
Oh that sure put a smile on my face.
Everyone gets a medal as well.
So many on my shelf it's swell.
No need to work at all.
Just look at my trophy wall.
From 110th place to 65th place.
Doesn't it make your heart race?
All you got is a naked man for winning.
Now who is the one sinning?
Awards are a dime a dozen now a days. All you have to do is make it through the maze. Whether 110th place or first, you will still get an award even if you are the worst. So yippeee for you. I suppose at least you don't, hopefully, have a plastic view. Don't you love the award system that came to pass? I just won 50 awards for sitting on my little rhyming ass.
Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.