Over The Weather

Nate was trapped inside,

Nate was low on power,

The rain drops were his iron bars

The clouds raped him in the shower.

All his friends had got degrees,

Good jobs, gimp camels that farted leather,

Nate was stuck at home, too poorly educated,

Feeling under the weather.

As he sat there morosely,

Dislodging the Orangutang from somewhere in his colon,

An idea hit him, with a crowbar,

Took most of his pocessions and sped off in a van it had clearly stolen.

But no less his mind was set,

of only one goal could he think.

But first there was the Orangutang,

Its face enraged and pink.

He released his bowels to sufocate it,

And dropped it in the sink.

Nate travelled down to Houston,

And glued a moustache to his face.

Forward a convincing Neil Armstrong impression,

And Nate was now in space.

Over the weather, no longer under it.

Nate at last was free.

But unfortunately Nate knew little of

Atmospheric geography.

Probably because he was so poorly educated,

Or maybe he was just ill that day,

He didn't know the effects of a vacuum on the human body

His brain exploded, killing him instantly.