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OK Boomer
Ok Boomer, micro-dosing shroomer.
It’s not just a rumor that your joints are achy and stiff and you’ve traded your spliff for vaporizer. Smart move.
You only get one set of lungs. People die waiting in line for those.
That rolling paper contains formaldehyde. That’s embalming fluid. And you’re not ready for that.
But I digress.
(I was smoking when I wrote this. So sue me if I go ash tray.)
OK Boomer,
micro-dosing shroomer.
There’s a rumor, a scientific hypothesis,
world peace can be achieved
if everyone takes psilocybin or LSD.
Tripsters are imbued with empathy and love.
Step aside fluoride.
It’ll be in the water.
OK Boomer, copy machine loomer.
You are large and offending.
Office relationships need mending.
Women are creeped-out by you.
Spike Lee said Betty was half of Malcom’s age plus seven.
Too formulaic.
I’ll just say it.
You’re 60.
That 37-year-old is not staring back at you.
OK Boomer,
Sirius XM Crooner.
Half your age plus seven is achievable in fuel economy.
When you were 20, your car didn’t get 17 mpg. Much less.
There’s more urgency now.
When you’re 80 your goal should be 47. You can do this. Toyota Prius.
