I've gotten a somewhat bizarre request:

Here is my request for your weblog: Could you please write a funny Petrarchan sonnet? I've never read a funny Petrarchan sonnet before, so you'd be satisfying one of my deep Freudian desires. (Don't worry about doing it iambic pentameter, but I think keeping the abbaabba cdecde OR abbaabba cdccdc rhyme scheme would be interesting.)

Here is a description of the Petrarchan (aka Italian) sonnet:
"In its original form, the Italian sonnet was divided into an octave of eight lines followed by a sestet of six lines. The octave stated a proposition and the sestet stated its solution with a clear break between the two. The octave rhymed a-b-b-a, a-b-b-a. For the sestet there were two different possibilities, c-d-e-c-d-e and c-d-c-c-d-c. In time, other variants on this rhyming scheme were introduced. Typically, the ninth line created a "turn" or volta, which signaled the change in the topic or tone of the sonnet."

Okay. Ignoring the permission to not worry about iambic pentameter (why not? iambic pentameter is fun), here goes:

The Interview, a Petrarchan sonnet in iambic pentameter

I set eleven clocks to ring at nine
I didn't want to risk that I'd be late
I tied my tie three times till it was straight
I scrubbed my shoes until I saw them shine
I deeply wanted this one to be mine
This firm, they all had told me, it was great
I think I was convinced that it was fate
The influence of something most divine

I left the e-mail printout on my bed
I didn't check till I was on the train
My cell phone charge was gone, the phone was dead
The rash I thought had vanished, it had spread
My suit was soaked from sudden pouring rain
I guess I'll take another job instead