A Very Random Poem By Two Cousins

Here is a poemish story my cousin and I wrote together on Instant Messenger. I'm not sure if it's really called a poem because I'm not sure if it really fits poem format, but we still call it a poem! What we do/did is: I start off by writing the first sentence and then she writes the second sentence which ends up rhyming with the first sentence that I wrote -- and the pattern continues. It's funny because, when we do these, the poem becomes the strangest story and ends up taking on the weirdest paths and can take on one or many narrators. So, if you want something strange to read, here ya go...

(P.S. We don't really know who the "narrator" is, so just imagine one as you read. I think it became female though in the end.)

"My Strange Life"
by. Holly & Tricia

Sometimes life throws curve balls
and sometimes it puts up brick walls.
One can never really know what's coming,
so it’s best not to think about it and just start running.
There are many places one can run to,
but wherever you run, make SURE to take some glue.
Glue assures your body stays together
and that all of your fat is light as a feather!
Speaking of feathers, I wish I were a bird;
I would fly north for summer with the rest of my herd.
I'd stop by the "Pole" to see Santa Claus,
and if Quasimodo was there, i'd say "Sup Quas?"
But Quasi kind of scares me
since ya know, he is kinda ug-ly.
But beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
not in pictures tucked away in an FBI crime folder.
Speaking of crime, I was a criminal once.
It all started in Texas, where I was the kindergarten dunce!
I was one bad piece of work,
especially the time that I ate my friend Kirk!
There was no hope for me until...
I climbed my way to the top of Faith Hill.
On top of the hill, all covered with cheese,
I lost my poor meatball, I just had to sneeze!
Oh yeah, let me get back to the story
because ya know what they say, “no guts, no glory.”
I met my maker at Faith Hill.
She told me that I had better get to crackin’ on my will.
Did that mean to make my will or to smoke it?
While I pondered this I saw a fat kid and I poked it.
I once had a Lean Mean Lasagna,
and a 4 yr old son who I had named Hibaania.
Hibaania was a humble little soul;
He had a cute lil smile and eyes made out of coal.
Actually, I gave birth to a snowman.
After his birth I just looked at him and said "woah-man!"
Certainly this had to be The Twilight Zone,
Oh, that’s right it is, we're filming, I gotta get off the phone!
Most people don't know I was married,
My husband didn’t even know until I told him we were pair-ied.
We divorced after eight short hours,
but during that time, I managed to invoke ALL of his super powers!
First I snatched his X-ray vision,
and he totally needed that since he works with nuclear fission.
Whatever the case, 'til before death did we part!
Oh no! Hang on, I gotta go make a pop tart...
Eating such food makes me kinda sad,
but instead of getting even, I just get mad!
Anger touches us all sometime or another;
Why just last week, it darn near killed my brother!
I'm glad I wasn't born a pit bull;
Imagine how much kibbles I would have to eat to get full!
Indeed, life can throw the hardest pitches,
and some nice old ladies are really scary witches.
So now I'll end this little rant of mine,
and go wash down all my bitterness with a nice glass of wine.
Amen.