Whitney’s Birthday Ode To Ellen: 2014!

August 13, it’s safe to say,

Is bigger than Rex Manning Day

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In terms of Joy and Jubilation,

It’s a birthday craze that is saaa-weeping the nation

And who’s the cause of all this racket?

It’s ELLEN, who just reached another age bracket!

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In the “Hottie” department, she’s a repeat offender

And can make even the slickest good guys surrender.

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She’s a brainy broad, with lots in her head,

Just let her regale you with all that she’s read.

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She’s fast with a grin and quick with a joke

A girl you could take out for pig-in-a-poke.

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If your taste is a gal with all the right moves

Then you’ll look no further once you’ve seen how she grooves

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Forget that I-G-G-Y, cause Ellen’s twice as Dance-y

And it’s easy to see that she’s three times as Fancy

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She’s a certified babe, from her shoes to her hair,

When she walks down the street, people stop and they stare.

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She’s funny and sassy like a Lady Nick Miller

But, you’ve been warned, she’s a stone-cold Killer

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She can be a bit quirky, nothing too odd

And I’m sure you won’t care once you’ve checked out her bod

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It must be rough, being so super-fine

Er day dealing with boys that pine

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But she deals with the stress in her own special way,

“Is this wi-fi Organic?” as Drunk Uncle would say.

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And her far-away cousin, whose love won’t erode

Sat down at a laptop and wrote her this Ode

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I hope you enjoyed this digital toast,

‘Cause I’ve poured all my love into this dumb little post

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Happy Birthday, you Boob Punch

Whitney

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Fangirly Poetry: A Salute to Joss Whedon

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These shows you’ve probably come across,

At 2 AM online

Written by he who goes by Joss,

Whose cool one can’t define

He’s probably murdered more folks than,

The Thoroughbred of Sin

And you need not be a super-fan,

To know where Buffy’s been

Since the days of Firefly,

For Fillion we clamour

And I should warn you, by the by

His fist is not the hammer

It’s said that Joss is the nicest guy,

A cab he’ll probably hail ya

Or perhaps the keys for you he’ll buy,

To a Shiny New Australia

He made us fall in love with Spike,

Easier said than done

Entertained us through the writers strike,

Which, I hear, they won

Your favorite characters he’ll surely kill

And leave you somewhat reeling

And yet I sing his praises still

You know, Once More With Feeling

-Whitney

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Ellen’s (Late) Birthday Ballad

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.

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Fangirl Poetry: Ode to Daryl Dixon the Zombie Slayer

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If you’re looking for some helpful tips

For surviving the zombie apocalypse

You’d better talk to Daryl Dixon,

That unwashed, crossbow wielding vixen

Although he talks like a total hick

And his brother is a crazy dick

He’s the hottest guy on AMC

Even Don Draper would likely agree

He’s a ladies dream, the ultimate male

With him, I wouldn’t mind sharing a jail

And the sexiest thing, no if, but, or maybe,

Was watching this badass cradle Rick’s baby

If I were his post-apocalypse mate

I’d happily help him repopulate

Until then, I’ll sit and watch him kill walkers

And join his legion of fangirl stalkers

In singing the praises of Daryl Dixon

The man, with whom, I wouldn’t mind mixin’

-Whitney

Fangirl Poetry: Dealbreaker

30rock_0We’re still reeling from the loss of 30 Rock here at Fangirly and in a effort to aid others in the grief process, I’ve decided to post an original poem I wrote for my 12th grade AP English class. I feel like I should mention that this poem only earned me a B. Moral of the story: when your teacher asks for a poem that expresses your inner self, don’t write about your favorite prime time sitcom. He will not be amused.

Dealbreaker

Single woman, loves her cheese

Won’t you come and date her please?

Goes to work every day at NBC

Deals with kooks named Jenna and Tracy

She figured out the Rural Juror

At first she was sure, but now she is surer

Dated a Beeper King, dogonit

Floyd also tried to put a ring on it

Jon Ham was stuck inside his bubble

Dating caused her nothin’ but trouble

Then at the dentist with a mouth full of drool

Wesley Snipes told her, “To settle is cool”

Tracy’s goal is to get his first EGOT

All Lemon wants is her own little tot

She just wants a man who isn’t a faker

Phony fellas are a real Deal-Breaker

But what every one knows and she cannot see

Is that Lemon belongs with Jacky D

-Whitney