the resigned gamer, everything I hate about the thing I love the most

Haiku for the muse

Posted by Sir Cucumber at 8:02 AM on Friday, May 23, 2008

video game haiku from the resigned gamer

No one forgets their first love. Nor, hard as they try, can they forget the stupid things they did trying to impress them. Like coming to class in a pair of ultra-wide JNCOs from Pacific Sunwear on Friday Jeans Day when Erica Lapchak knew damn well you'd never wore anything but elastic waistband khakis since the first grade.

But foolish as we may make ourselves, the fact remains that the dance of courtship requires leaps of faith and flexibility. No prize worth winning is ever won without stepping up your A game, and no relationships leave us unchanged, but remember who you were, because it's still who you are.

This week's haiku go out to all who've ever made their play, whether it panned out or not.


pugnacious posture
hip hop jihad for her love
tastes like an onion

safe driving record
mollifies my girl's parents
but won't get me tits

sold precious heirlooms
for nikes and north face coat
will she notice me?

comfortable manhood
i'll feed you cake for breakfast
a sensitive guy

gained only in drops
respect is lost in buckets
don't fuck this up, homes

take it like a man
irritable bowel syndrome
her love keeps me hard

growing up we learn
bitches ain't shit but ho's; tricks.
valuable lessons