IYIyTh Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 (edited) Vogon poetry is the third worst in the Universe. The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning" four of his audience members died of internal hemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. The very worst poetry in the universe was written by Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Sussex. Thankfully it was destroyed when the earth was. Due to the success, and yet, apparrent failure of sharing Vogon poetry with the rest of the universe, the Mostly Harmless Alliance announces a contest to determine planet Bob's best Vogon Poetry writer. First prize takes home 150 tech, Second 100, and Third 50. Any winning nation who is currently embroiled in conflict may have their prize tabled at the nearest intergalactic bank until otherwise. Please submit your poetry in this thread, and be creative . The judging will take place by the triumvirate of The Mostly Harmless Alliance one week from Friday June 19th. So, planet Bob, we challenge you to quite frankly, do your worst. Samples of Vogon Poetry from Towel Day 09' Celebration: AlfredvonTirpitz of Ragnarok: See, see the Battleaxe sky Marvel at its big Pink depths. Tell me, Crushtania do you Wonder why the Chiuhuahua ignores you? Why its foobly stare makes you feel Angry. I can tell you, it is Worried by your KickableButt facial growth That looks like, A Mutton. What's more, it knows Your Fark potting shed Smells of Zit. Everything under the big Battleaxe sky Asks why, why do you even bother? You only charm Stale Beers. Gunther of MHA: Fear not the Lokogtichy, Belternob, The time is right for Scriffing, If not Scriffing what say you, Rob? Let's not fiddle faddle over hitching. Making grobblegook can make you stink, But eating turtuschek will make you sick, Remain where you are and you will be fine, Today is a day for cheese and wine. Some say science cures all ills, I say drink more Nabelpie, Or lay awake and take more pills, For today was not the day to die Former triumvirate of the MHA and current resident of OBR, Floyd: Itching for Love Side by side we sit, I am lewdly lusting for love, My desires grow like an itchy passion on my groin. Gold Bond powder cannot cure, Vagicil cannot cure me. Melkson of MHA: I sat on my chair bored stiff, Then my cat came and gave me a sniff, I looked at him funny, he looked back at me, Then my face, lit up with glee, I picked up my cat and stroked his fur, He stretched his legs and began to pur, I then opened by mouth and swallowed him whole, My boredom is gone, and my cat is no more. I've calculated your chance of survival reading the poetry in this contest, but I don't think you'll like it. Edited June 19, 2009 by IYIyTh Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
benjaminperdomo Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 Vogon poetry? ARe you guys insane? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Stonewall Jaxon Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 Are haiku admissible? How I burn for you Water cannot put me out Maybe Marvin can Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
IYIyTh Posted June 19, 2009 Author Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 Vogon poetry? ARe you guys insane? We're not insane...well...Mostly. and yes, haiku are technically admissable, but will probably actually be better and thus fare worse in terms of voting. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sir Sci Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 Oh dear lord, YES! YES YES YES YES! One of the best books ever! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Pingu Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 (edited) How much danger money are you paying the judges (or, more likely, their surviving heirs)? Edit: is there any limit on the number of entries from individual perpetrators? Edited June 19, 2009 by Pingu Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ejayrazz Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 (edited) Friendship is like peeing on yourself, only you feel the warm sensation, an enemy's mouth is the destination; to seek their desecration. To a man's woman, she is like a book, you pick it cause of the cover and how its cover looks. You only decide to keep her if she knows how to cook, but if she can't, you dispose her body in your town's local brook. So how do you choose the woman of you life? when love itself is like a Jerry Springer fight? I will give you advice, so it is understandable, if you cant handle a man, resort to an animal. But don't get upset, do not succuomb to remorse, Cause Ej is considered one, since he's hung like a horse. Thank you. Edited June 19, 2009 by Ejayrazz Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Trinite Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 (edited) The world in which I live Has naught to give but misery and strife All I've got Is this damn pot On which I've sat my whole damn life And everyday I !@#$ away Like crapping out a knife At least this pot of !@#$ On which I sit Is actually my wife Edited June 19, 2009 by Trinite Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Assington Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 (edited) A most excellent endeavour. I look forward to contemplating chewing off my ears and eyes in order to remain living. Might I suggest everyone bring a towel? Edited June 21, 2009 by Assington Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Dr hairy Ballz Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 Sometimes I wonder will it take me assunder A taco is nice but so can be lice for the parallel is nought if fought with a dot I often question if a man dies and no one knows Has he even put on his cologne My world is what I see won't you show me your peepee Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sir Paul Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 One Hundred Fifty Tech will help cover the terms I hope this works out Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Locke Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 I demand tech reps just for having to read this awful stuff. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sargun II Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 (edited) Good God, MHA. Was this your plan all along? MAKE US FRIENDS AND THEN KILL US WITH VOGON POETRY WHILE WE SLEEP? Edited June 19, 2009 by Sargun Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Doc Taco Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 And yes, we are aware of the Vogon Poetry Generator. Be creative here people and write your own. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
IYIyTh Posted June 19, 2009 Author Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 Secretly, we're actually hoarding poetry for future conflicts. Our well respected combatants in the previous war, IRON, know that Vogon Poetry has a serious impact on ones psyche. Thus, we thought we'd tap into the creativity of the entire planet. 300 tech is a small price to pay for this great weapon of mass destruction. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
muffasamini Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 Dirty Love Dedicated To My Disgusting Delloosh Love, Fetanglemore. We are now together forever. Sweet fetid Fetanglemore How I fougrosly forgo you fiercely fretting forgotten fenaddilings, I hope to be yours forevermore Do you agree? From your scintillating fangdoglements to, the basement of your forgotten irish home I deploringlatingly want to be nothing but there on your voluptuous gegesting endowments Sweet Fetanglemore! How you entice the senses! your puss filled fendings rolling lustfully in and decomposing garbage wasteland of pleasure beutylessness mine alone, to adore You cannot predict my lustinglyful loathing My dearest gighjjug hardens only for you Fetanglemore When my globs sight you, I am falling Will your beckmoks plod along with me? Down this crusty dirty path of poisonous passion? Will you dedangle your delloobs before me? Wearing dingy molding fashion? My rotting maw opens wanks open spewing pellushilital gestinghun on me whenever you plod past Fetanglemore, will you take this token? The token of love decomposing ever untricullated gooling formed from despoticilate prolifulate a gift to us from high above OH FETANGLEMORE! MY ROTTEN! No? oh fetanglemore have you forgotten? Those oomping urdles of scintillating corruption on bleeding grehandulous glasses begone secreting gestatlit for we once had flotilitaing induction or have you forgotten? But my gross?! our induliculated tortituated action was sought undending never bending we said forever, even toast or have you forgotten? No. Don’t go your succulent decreped maw forming such intolloxilated postulations presumptuously No. You cant go Tie this rotted secreteteleded cord around your hungistrous as a lever! I’ll drag bedostly down these slimy stairs to the basement Fetter you vivaciously to the distorcritate You be deliciously disgusting here… forever See if I don’t Your succulent sulfurous slime slipping down slowly my slotted sulleeenus I don’t have to pay a dime Your mine! Do you want to DIE? MY fetanglemore gehhashingly jjjuped Your decomposing esttter will by mine Forever. Ditarratingly silent As my sulleeenus deeper rolling ever contilloling feel wonderfully disgustingly guttered unmoving vitriolic not violent Oh but Fetanglemore! your decrepit mass unmoving in my basement is jjustiggatingly mine and only mine forevermore Isnt that how we wanted it? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sir Paul Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 The Choice There are not enough graves in the world to hold all of those who have wronged me I am thus left with a choice: An endless quest of vengance or an erasing of the past As both exist only in a machine Both require the removal Of several pixels Pixels from a nation Or pixels from a post: How can it be done? It appears I must hope for a Deus ex machina and wait for admin Electrons to Pixels, Zeros to Ones Amen Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
3 mm picks Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 could I just post cannibal corpse lyrics? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sir Sci Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 Discovery of a new belly button named Alan which has grown a leaf A poem to be read to an inebriated man in order to ensure alcohol poisoning. Comes in two flavors: Parsnip and Cranberry. Alack! Alas! Aloof! Alan! Alan, that name A name of names which have named names! It is what I rhyme With time Climb, time, climb, climb Into A new Belly Button Alan, that button Of mutton In my belly With my new belly button Alan Holds a gallon Of food So good Yum Fret! Fail! Fall! Alan! For a green Like that of a lean, mean, and keen Man eating only peas And like trees Which have Trunks Alan, that button Which grew a leaf So brief For I ate it Now, Alan You hold the leaf That tasted Like beef You grew Now you knew What you grew is good Like stew Coo coo cashew Chicken Yay! Yes! Yip! Alan! I had a way To play The day Away But nay I slay And keep at bay A dragon For you Alan Do not fear my dear rear For I have not forgotten You You shall grow every year For the new Grew too So the old Grows mold untold… … BEHOLD! Now you are happy While I Take an after snack nappy Alan, be good Do not grow Petunias Not again. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Floatsam Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 (edited) A Eulogy for the Snackfoods Migrating through my Alimentary Canal Oh soggy smelly lump of Cheese Balls Doth passing through my Oral Chasm, Rejoice! Gastrointestinal Glee Awaits in thy future Through the silky chasm of esophagus Past the acrid basin of the stomach Hither the stimulant stretch of duodenum Anterior to the jovial jurisdiction of the jejunum Out the ammonium filled ilium Guided by the cecum You traverse the fantastic depths of my Large Intestines Through the ascending colon Across the transverse colon and through the lush green fields of the descending colon Thou hast found thyself in mine sigmoid flexure Where we shall meet once more outside the fixtures of my rectum And we shall celebrate, one last time As you abscond in a glorious chorus of flatulence And I press Most melancholy upon the cold metallic length of the flusher. Edited June 19, 2009 by Floatsam Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
BlackDragon Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 The agony, deadwrecking my slumpky brain of this soberficial intelligent creature. It is the worst gain in eternity of the sluggish rascally children demonizing Planet Bob. The forwardness of Click'n'do planet is none. Wrecking the brainalive worms of idiotic gatherings with prime essentials. SO WE CRY OUT AND OUT IN THE SPACE WIND AND SOLAR FLARES TO THEE AMAZINGNESS YOUR CHARMING WAYS WILL BE OBLIDERATED!! BUT YOU THINK YOU CHARM US? THE ONLY CHARM YOU ONLY CHARM yourselves. BD Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Blacky Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 Repugnant back zit out of reach seen only in reflection, Reach to destroy it before it engulfs us whole, Scrape at it with nails an explosion of blood and pus, Squeeze at it oozing blood and pus until drained, Swelling pustulent flesh as fingernail infects, Scabby wound heals encapsulated, Unsightly browning of skin removed and devoured, Masticating the dried blood and platelets. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Prime minister Johns Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 Zen and the art of collecting taxes Press button receive taxes press button pay bills wait 15 days you are a leaf in the wind floating from place to place apologise if necessary repeat the cycle Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Salmacis Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 Sprinkles of time on A cake made of sand. Rubik's cube dust. More powders, Make the whole thing mysterious. Ghuls rush in where Wise men Never go Can I say macaroni-iiii? Yes. Chamber pots running Through the hills Hoarding precious Feces for An hemophilic chistera player. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tautology Posted June 19, 2009 Report Share Posted June 19, 2009 No wander then apart decries It's heart beats hardly, roomy eyes Inobdurate, this sick malaise Madness feels the lonesome daze Still others loose the will to liven They're decent into Hell a given To week there withered limbs to rise The bonefire, nest to crackling guys Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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