Yes, this is coming a few days late, but hopefully you won’t hold that against me Ellen, because I’m pretty sure that this is the Sistine Chapel of birthday poems. Now, keep in mind that this one works best if you picture it being sung by Sam Elliott on the open plains, strumming a guitar and eating beans out of a can. Happy Birthday, nerd.
There once was a girl with Game to spare,
A bespectacled lass with long brown hair,
Who often went by the name of Ellen,
In LA, where she was Dwellin’.
She had a cuz who loved her dearly,
Though they only hung out but once, yearly.
To butts, she had a sore addition,
And a proclivity for Jane Austen Fan Fiction.
Her Oscar predictions were never wrong,
And her sass rivaled that of River Song.
It’s rumored that Jake Johnson wanted her body,
And her fashion sense was never thought gaudy
I’ve heard she ganked many a ghost in her time,
And boffed Dean Winchester in his prime.
Penny Hearts thought she was A-mah-zing,
Wayne Campbell thought her a mighty “SCHAAAAWING!”
This chick, so full of vigor and vim,
Could jam a uke like Tiny Tim.
For these reasons, and many more,
On her Birthday we party like it’s 1994.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this birthday toast,
From that cousin, who loves you the most.