I'd Rather Be a Dish than Do One

It's raining again, today. The rain has it easy: all it ever does is fall. Not much effort needed, there. In here, there are dishes to be done, floors to be wiped, shirts to be cleaned--Sundays are the worst! Next week, I'm going to rinse the dishes as soon as I've used them, so I won't be stuck with them all to do over the weekend. Also, I think I'll take up competitive cycling, and run for Prime Minister.

LIMERICK FOR WHEN YOU'RE REALLY, REALLY LAZY, AND DON'T FEEL LIKE DOING ANY CHORES

A listless purveyor of rhyme
Ran out of ideas, one time....

No, that's all. (Oh, ha, ha!)

1) I'd like to be a dish. Each day, I'd be piled high with food I didn't have to make, and bathed in warm water. Then, one fine morning, I'd run away with the spoon.

2) Teaspoons have a good life, too. They sample sugar and honey all day long, and never get tooth decay.

3) Decaying vegetable matter has it made: it generates its own warmth, and isn't expected to do much of anything. As an added bonus, it smells awful, so everyone leaves it alone. I think I'd be happy as a pile of decaying vegetable matter.

4) Being a piece of paper might be nice, under the right set of circumstances. Say I were a piece of paper with something important written on me. People would take me seriously, then, without an iota of effort on my part. I'd be kept in a nice, clean folder, and handled carefully, by my corners. I might even end up in a museum. I could be a big star, lying flat on my back.

5) Maybe I'd rather be water in a fountain. Dancing in the sun sounds wonderful, especially if I don't have to move my feet. As an added bonus, everyone would throw money at me.

6) A soft bed's sounding nice to me, right now: a soft, warm bed, with fluffy pillows. I think I'd enjoy being a pendant, hung between a nice pair of breasts.

7) Being a wedding dress wouldn't be half bad. I'd work my arse off one day, then spend the rest of my life doing nothing. If anyone complained, I'd say "Piss off: I did my time!"

8) No--make me a grain of sand, and sweep me into the ocean. Bury me deep. Bury me under miles of water. I'd get some peace and quiet, then. There are no telephones, construction crews, car alarms, klaxon horns, or budgies at the bottom of the sea.