Posted by: cousinbrandon | February 7, 2011

Back in the Hai(ku) Life Again: The Week in Twitter Haiku

I’m hungover this morning. No, not because I drank too much, but because my beloved Pittsburgh Steelers failed to win their seventh Super Bowl. Hard to believe that they made so many ridiculous mistakes. Sure, I’ll give Rapelisberger a pass for that early pick-six, as his arm was hit when he released the ball. What I won’t forgive, though, was the play call. I mean, you’re down 7-0 and inside your own 10-yard line. Why in the hell are you trying to throw a bomb down the sideline on first down in that situation? Have you forgotten that the guy coaching the other team’s defense is Dom Capers, a man who once coached — you guessed it — the Pittsburgh Steelers’ defense?! And speaking of terrible play calling, I especially hated the 15-yard incomplete pass on third down early in the first quarter. Mendenhall had just ripped off runs of 10 and 9 yards, respectively. You only need two yards; give him the goddamn ball! What’s more, the killer was the Mendenhall fumble. I honestly believe Pittsburgh wins the game if that play never happens. Again, I’m very sad this morning. Thanks for the letdown, Steelers.

This mega-installment of haiku, from Friday, January 21, 2010 through Sunday, February 6, 2011, covers unemployment, children’s television, card games, bad beer, Al Bundy, poker, Black Swan, faux New Yorkers, insomnia, my brother’s birthday, Jersey Shore, The Ice Storm, Kangaroo Jack, Catfish, Super Bowl prop bets, my cat and my Super Bowl prediction. As always, you can find this collection here every Monday, or go on over and subscribe to my Twitter feed. New name, same hilarity.

Unemployed, Day 1 Haiku (January 21, 2011)

Woke up way early
even though I didn’t need
to. Life’s confusing.

After Watching Imagination Movers with My Daughter, a Plan Haiku (January 22, 2011)

Mental note: make sure
to destroy ev’ry TV
and bleach my eyeballs

After Several Card Games Wth My Daughter, I Finally Prevailed Haiku (January 23, 2011)

Played Memory, War
and Uno today. Kicked her
punk-ass at Poker.

Despite the Steelers Victory, There Was a Downside Haiku (January 24, 2011)

The worst part of the
game? Convincing myself the
Coors Light tasted good.

Realizing I’m Understood Only By Select Company Haiku (January 25, 2011)

The two people who
“get me” are my woman and
Mr. Al Bundy.

A List of Things I Lost Playing Poker Last Night Haiku (January 26, 2011)

Money, poker chips,
self-respect, sobriety,
my tiger-striped thong.

Having Finally Seen Black Swan, a Review Haiku (January 27, 2011)

Portman gets the lead.
Jealous of Kunis. Goes nuts.
Showgirls Twenty-Ten.

To the Douche at the Bar Who Claimed He’s a New Yorker Haiku (January 28, 2011)

Don’t say you’re from there
if you left at 10 and never
heard of Bed-Stuy.

Things to Do When You Wake Up at 5 AM On a Saturday Haiku (January 29, 2011)

Lie awake and stare
at the bedroom ceiling till
you’re crazy. Repeat.

How I Spent My Brother’s 40th Birthday Haiku (January 30, 2011)

Gin, red wine, white wine,
Port, scotch, tequila and beer.
Goodbye, cruel world.

Surprisingly, Jersey Shore Mirrors It’s a Wonderful Life Haiku (January 31, 2011)

Ev’ry time those drunk
fucks show up at Karma, a
Guido gets it in.

Today’s Weather Reeks of an Ang Lee Movie Haiku (February 1, 2011)

Only thing missing
from this winter storm is
Elijah Wood’s stiff corpse.

A List of Things Kangaroo Jack Could Have Used Less Of Haiku (February 2, 2011)

Jerry O’Connell,
Anthony Anderson, the
kangaroo, and me.

After Watching Catfish, a Review (with Spoilers) Haiku (February 3, 2011)

Online, a woman
lies about herself? They should
have called it Twitter.

Determing All Roethlisberger Prop Bets for the Super Bowl Haiku (February 4, 2011)

What’s the over/under
on Ben’s Dallas bathroom
“sexcapades”? Seven?

The Aftermath of Giving Away Our Cat, Poe Haiku (February 5, 2011)

My daughter cried. I
comforted her with fruit snacks
and 12-year old Scotch.

My Prediction for Super Bowl XLV Haiku (February 6, 2011)

Steelers barely beat
the Packers. Roger Clemens
remains a douchebag.

Well, that should just about do it, since I’m not dead. Yet. Until next time, have at it, you vultures!



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