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Broken Record

My brother’s like a broken record.  He tells me about how we used to bike around the neighborhood pretending we were race car drivers, and how we’d gained multiple knee scrapes from turning the curb too fast. He’ll tell me this story twice, thrice, or even four times in a row, and laugh about the good ol’ days. I laugh with him, because though he doesn’t remember that he’s already told me this story for the fourth time in a row, he does remember the fun we had. My brother’s like a broken record, but I don’t mind one bit.

Spiders' Pest Control



When the flies land on your hamburger

Or take a sip from your sprite,

When they buzz around your head annoying you,

And you become filled with spite,


When you’re tired of bringing out the fly swatters

And tired of throwing away a good meal,

It’s time to call the pest control.

Spider’s Pest Control has an excellent deal.


The spiders love their job as pest control

There is no fine or fee.

Their reward is eating flies for lunch,

And that’s why their work is free.


All they require is a bit of food,

A little bit of bait, 

To lure the flies to their webs,

Then all they must do is wait.


The fly who comes to land on the spoil 

Ends up caught in their beautiful web.

The spider rushes in for the kill

The fly is silk wrapped and dead.


The spiders will take their webbing,

And then they will take their leave.

Unless you want them to stay of course.

So long as spiders aren’t your pet peeve.


Just take care not to squash the spiders out of fright;

Dead spiders can’t make dead flies.

Pay them mind so they can work

To keep the pests off your ketchup and fries.


Once the spiders kill all the flies 

The annoying buzzing will cease.

So watch them do all the dirty work,

And enjoy your meal in peace.


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