Why No One Likes Me

Grama isn't always right.

My grama, she used to say,
"You're a great boy,
and you'll be a great man someday."

I took those words to heart,
I did charity well into the night.
Helping the needy,
Well after dark.

Humbly, in acts of service,
I changed a woman's flat tire,
And fixed the church furnace.
I didn't even go to church.
But now I do, you see
They needed an organist,
And now the organist is me.

At the animal shelter
I nurse pups back to health,
They almost shut down,
But I gave them my wealth.
When we run out of milk,
For on which the young dogs must nibble,
I tell them, "That's okay,"
And show them my nipple.

I thought all these things would get people to like me,
Not reject me, like they do those who run sweat shops for Nike.
I think I have figured out the problem, though
My grama couldn't smell,
And she was one dumb, stupid ho-
ly person who is very lovely and i love her very much.

I go about good works with all of my heart,
The conundrum is that with every righteous deed I do,
I fart, and it smells like shit