Sunday, November 30, 2014
u may know some
Neighborhood Association
Bixxy projected what was on his iPad. Rectangular map filled
in with images of association parties, mostly happy
or snarling children.
Then, suddenly, red blotches equidistant along the edge!
“These represent families of demons,” he stated.
“But, how can you tell? What do they DO?” asked Mary Detzy Hope.
“Right now, just routiney demony things. Early stage, thus
this meeting.”
“Thank God I didn’t marry you! Another flatly awful
answer!”
“I don’t understand. We never even went out.”
“I keep a list.”
“Run the meeting, Bixxy! Cut all blabber short!”--
from Old Man Coakly.
“Including yours?” smiled sweetly Mary.
“The...next slide will answer most questions.”
And the next and next, until all groaned.
Lort Harrell piped up finally. “Thirty-seven ways to
identify demons? I’d be fired in the Ad Business!
Boil it down to five bullet points!”
“I will! This is a preliminary meeting.”
Mr and Mrs Oglesy spoke in one voice, but sort of
dopplerian. “We go by these homes! Bicycles in
the driveways, kids playing catch, our neighborhood
minibus picking them up for Little League.”
“All just cover. They’re demons!”
“Don’t forget the parents!” added Coakly to the couple.
“Breaking their ass for the American Dream!”
Although meetings usually broke up in chaos,
this one made a plan. Spies appointed to watch
each family, taking pictures with cell phones.
Supposed to bring evidence to the next
meeting but, Mary reminded, that’s in
July and there’s not enough time to handle
this and The Fourth of July Picnic and Baby
Parade. And, especially, the crowning of
Little Miss Delco Heights.
So, August appointed to get to the demonological
bottom of things.
“Be hot as hell!” Coakly recollected.
Labels: American Dream, demon, Little League, neighborhood, neighborhood activities, neighborhood association
Saturday, November 29, 2014
Hereafter, Hereafter?
Two. One Topic
-I go with Thomas Wolfe: We walk the streets
of life alone.
-That’s awful! How about friends? Besides, I feel a Presence. For this journey, and the next.
-Comforting...for you.
-Why not for you?
-Should I make something up?
-Of course. Why not? Yes!
-I was being sarcastic.
-Then yes, yes, yes!
Labels: death, friends, God, hereafter, Presence, solitary
Friday, November 28, 2014
Seeing Eye to Eye. Not.
-Hey! That’s me! Rebel without a cause!
-More like without a clue.
-You’re from the impotent humor section
of the family.
-You came in here and tried to destroy
our little institutions, with nothing to
take their place.
-Like what?
-Marriage.
-A bourgeois idiocy prompting a drunken orgy
of gluttony!
-What’s better?
-Anything!
-People devise things over centuries.
-The more reason to rip them out!
-We’re not getting anywhere.
-Who made that a goal?
Labels: custom, Family, marriage, rebel, Rebel Without a Cause, rebellion
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Executive Choice
The President pardoned a turkey for Thanksgiving.
Talk among the rest agreed he picked the worst one.
He knew, of course, that it wasn’t the first time
he had failed in the judgement of turkeys.
Labels: judging President, judging turkeys, President, Thanksgiving, Turkey
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Discussion Underlain With Theory
Stelly on fresh prescription meds, so
informs Carl she’s not about to decide
anything. He theorizes she’s the opposite
of her name: Stella: Star, steady over millions of
years. She further clarifies that she is minimum-
ly, desperately, trying to stay intact
an hour at a crack.
They both apply the character high-
lighter thereafter, his indicating that
she’s permanently, hopelessly, scattered,
and hers, finally: His mother really did
a job on him! Presently, they’ve
not spoken in a week.
Bridget, his sister, suggests a token offering
of flowers. The gesture trumping the amount. He
listens, "Bridge" having a psych degree. Moreover,
one of them.
Labels: argument, couple, keeping it together, lovers' quarrel, men and women
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
The Great Uncover
Opposition Research
-You can always go morality at the end.
-How? Why? Remember ISSUES?
-Fuck issues! Look! He or she has done
SOMEthing. Everybody has. Just point
out that what most people think average
is actually depraved.
-But the areas are really too gray! Slippery.
-Not when we get done!
-Nothing painted as something.
-In Circus Colors!
-How do you sleep at night?
-Realistically.
Labels: dirty politics, issues, low blow, Opposition Research, politics, reputation, sex
Monday, November 24, 2014
The Critic
-Stale, flat, derivative, imitative!
-You can tell by looking at one little painting?
-Naturally.
-What if it’s satire, mocking its rigid form?
-It’s not.
-I’ve seen others of his, and they’re fresh and cheeky. He takes chances.
-That’s your view.
-Views. That’s where we differ.
-Whatever.
Labels: art, conceit, critic, criticism, experimentation in arts, painting, rigidity
Sunday, November 23, 2014
The Aggressive Woman
is frequently let down, end-
ing up with fellows rather
be at football contests.
When she discovers the slick
sexual technician she sought,
and invests a ton of emotion,
he proves a shallow, lying
sonofabitch. Such a surprise? Go
to a cheap store and wonder
what you bought after? So why
not tutor a decent bloke?
It’s not Rocket Science, though
devilishly complex, nonetheless,
on the less mechanistic side.
After awarding his diploma,
go to the game with him,
and meet the other women,
who expected what they got.
They’re laughing anew, and only
softly ironic. And when the guys
catapult into the game
to scream, stay at
the tailgate party, where
the swelling cheers roll back
into talk of women and men.
But more bemused than acid.
Labels: football, relationship, sex, sexual competence, sexual technology, tailgate
Saturday, November 22, 2014
Yet Another Take on Modern Life
Commercial Director
-Get me the ugly little broad with
the enormous ass!
-Again?
-I like her! Doesn't turn all Betsy-Wetsy
when I scream.
-Do you care about the product this time?
-Never. All the same.
-Well, some background anyway: Whole Body
Makeup applied with a shovel. She punches
men before she discovers it, then gets all
fluttery-buttery and flirtsy-wirtsy after.
-Another Commercial Miracle!
-That latter part softens her image, though.
Her agent might not like...
-Hey! Like, dislike! That's the old rhetoric!
Each person a circus today.
-And if Madame Za-Longa is shot from the
canon and freezes mid-air?
-Crank her to the target or we all starve!
Labels: Circus, cynicism, language, modern life, TV, TV commercial
Friday, November 21, 2014
CIA
“We found stupid the best cover. Send a rep
for Midwestern locks or something into a
European city. Business man! Yeah!
“Solid?”
“Well...semi-solid.”
“Yuz intrigues.”
“Both patriot and half-inane righty--working
further in the acting department. And just a
whiff of racism. No over-doing.”
“American Exceptionalism then?”
“You got it! And before it assumed flavor of the month.”
Labels: American Exceptionalism, CIA, cover, operator, spy, spy cover
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Conflict In the Cancer Ward
When The Wit passes,
the doctors and nurses become doubly
morose.
The new patient, Bertram Runcey
Carruthers, strict in life and worse
approaching death, wouldn’t say shit
if he had a mouthful.
“Oh Well!” from Head Nurse, Frederika,
“They also serve, etc. And, a little nobility
won’t hurt this time.”
“Fuck nobility!” counters assistant, Delsey,
too outspoken for her own good.
“You’re too outspoken for your own good!”
reminds Frederika.
Labels: authority, Cancer, hospital, nobility, nurses, wit, youth
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
At Piggie Mart
(Squeal for Bargains!)
She shrugs “I don't have a bag
big enough.” Pre-haunted Yours
Truly: “Well, find SOME-
thing in the back. I'm
not riding on the bus
with an exposed toilet seat for
some usually slow wit to boil forth
"Taking it with you now, huh?”
NOTHING STINGS LIKE THE TAUNT
OF A FOOL! “Who's the fool?” you ask--
as if newly-hatched.
Labels: bargain, fool, Nothing stings like the taunt of a fool, proverb, sensitive, shopping, toilet seat
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Personnel Problem in a Company Manufacturing Whatever
A Dread for Three Voices
“The guy is seething!”
“You should meet wifey. He’s a choirboy.”
“Well I hope they kill each other rather than one of us.”
“I’ve had it with him! I’m dumping it into Carl’s lap.”
“Enter Carl with ample lap, saying I heard it all.
Transfer the sonofabitch to Phoenix. I never met
anyone from there who wasn’t an asshole!”
“I’ll do the paperwork today. Just hope bodies don’t
start turning up in a couple of weeks.”
Hey! Who gives a shit? It’s the freakin desert! Plenty of
room before anybody notices.
Labels: anger, business, desert, explosive employee, manufacturing, murder, personnel, personnel problem, Phoenix
Monday, November 17, 2014
At the Movies
Vince and the Women and the Men
Vince in line when the woman approaches.
"I'm looking for a man with a big you-
know-what. The whole package!"
"I see. How about those Mets?"
"How about them indeed! Excuse me while
I move on."
(to Ralph, returning with popcorn) “That woman
desires me, I think.”
"Well, act! Are you a homosexual?"
"Nope. I'm afraid of men too.
"Still living with Mother?"
"She passed, unfortunately. Boy could she
cook! Roast Beef with oven-browned potatoes,
Christ! Now I throw crap in the microwave!"
"Well, that's a clue. You need a motherly
woman that cooks. Probably content with
cuddles, with the Big Event few and far
between."
"I'd compromise."
"Okay! Let's word it! NO SEX BOMBS!
WANTED, MATURE LADY
COMFORTABLE WITH CHILD-LIKE
NERD. HOME COOKING!"
"Doesn't that last have a sexual meaning?"
"I suppose. If it's a wild card, keep it in!"
"Okay. I've had dreams where I was daring!"
"We won't overdo it."
“Oven-browned! Mmmmm!”
“Pray.”
Labels: aggressive women, home cooking, nerd, personal ad, sex
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Warm Walk
The pair take a walkabout. Mark Reilly
Markie, Libertarian, and Mrs van Iderstein,
as disdainfully upright as she had appeared
on Earth.
"I do so love this place! No rules, all riot!"
exults he.
"But the public defecation mars the aesthetic."
"Hey! When you gotta go...! God tried stopping
it on his last tour, but he's powerless here."
"God is dead?"
"As a door pail."
"That's door nail, I do believe."
"All the petty little bourgeois exactitudes
of speech!"
"Similar to what the Devil says, his hands
all over one!"
"Never misses a beat!"
"But, we must needs route ourselves differently.
The...Aromas!" she sniffs.
"The Smell of Freedom!"
Labels: bourgeois, devil, freedom, God, Hell, Libertarian, rich
Saturday, November 15, 2014
What’s It All About?
Hodge, Belsky, and Dred told Lou they couldn’t stand
hearing anymore about A.
A was a person or an idea, possibly both. Retellings grow
fuzzy with time.
Lou answered then: integral part of him! He couldn’t surrender
it or him or her or whatever!
Well, mature people iron things out, compromise. Thus, Lou
could talk somewhat less about A?
Uh uh. He left, never to be seen again. Immature, some say.
But, stuck to his guns–-whatever on Earth they were.
Most who flee are heard from again, or someone spots
them on a street or at a ballgame. Or kids go to conferences
and ask about parents.
Nope.
Not a great loss?
Who can tell?
Labels: compromise, estrangement, friends, quarrels
Friday, November 14, 2014
Christophers
“Face your monsters, throttle some, have them
come out of you into the miasma etc.”
The guys drink to this, and another man comes
by on the road, then down to his knees.
The road a dark moon of blacker trees.
“Mother! I worked and worked! But the women
and the booze, and later all the drugs and I
never came close to your dreams for me! But I’m
your little Honey-Boy. I’m still your little Christopher!”
“Next time I dress as him. I’d been missing the horror,”
Chups tells Bester.
“What’s horror all about, anyway?”
“Living.”
...
'Twas very dark on Hallowe'en,
With not a speck of light;
The clouds had just passed o'er the moon,
And silent was the night.
The clouds had just passed o'er the moon,
And silent was the night.
We waited in a lonely grove
And then a ghost went by;
We were too scared to run away,
And much too old to cry;
We were too scared to run away,
And much too old to cry.
It had a wide and flaming mouth,
Its eyes were glowing too;
If you had seen it, I am sure,
It would have frightened you!
If you had seen it, I am sure,
It would have frightened you!
But then the glowing light went dim,
And ev'rybody said
Was only Christopher
With such a pumpkin head!
That it was only Christopher,
With such a pumpkin head!*
*Swedish Traditional
Labels: booze, drugs, Halloween, Mother, regret, Swedish, tragedy, wrecked lives
Thursday, November 13, 2014
The Harrowing Quartet
or Four Days To Wedding
Ruck’s grandmother is coming and not, has
checked all the entrees. Gramps not around
to help, having gone to Heaven for the quiet.
Stephanie can't handle one more thing,
and is lying down.
A secret network works to get him to the
Eagles game tonight, but even supine, Steph's
radar clanks away.
"Don't you even THINK about...!"
"A linguistic pattern I'm getting used to,"
Ruck informs Clancy, the Irish Setter.
"Verb smashed hard, and the thought thus
can be left unfinished.”
Clancy's soupy eyes sympathize.
(Not to get too rhymey-dimey within the
whole hysterical smear.)
Ruck’s breaths keep snagging. “What’s a
Panic Attack?” he asks Clancy.
Labels: Eagles, last minute glitches, plans, radar, wedding, wedding hysteria
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
The Bottom Line
as Discussed by Billionaires, Deuce
-We’ve bought the country.
-Your gift for hyperbole.
-I can show you the charts. We’ve done it this time.
-Bought an assortment of politicians and elections–-
not really the same thing.
-Ah, but it is!
-And they’re a fractious lot, always. Some will stray
from the reservation.
-We’ll buy them back in that case. But, rest assured,
we were much more careful this time. These boys
and girls will remain bought. End of story.
-And what will they legislate?
-Nothing. That serves us best. And Obstruction. Plus,
enough scandal oozing down the pike to give them
face-time on TV. They’ll be happy as pigs in shit!
-Uh uh! Your Perfect Model cries for Revolution!
-That’s going on all the time.
-We buy it?
-Yup.
-God sanction all of this?
-Who else?
Labels: bought country, bought politicians, bribery, God, political corruption, revolution
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Science and the Right
-I think it’s called Animated Venn Diagram or
something. I’m just playing with it to see if it shows...
-Okay, one big balloon, Racists. I get that.
Another, Republicans. And...the two getting
together...whoa! Like, wait a minute! It shows
all Republicans Racists. That ain’t Science!
-It’ll take some tinkering.
-You need new data!
-I was expecting three-quarters.
-That’s realistic. I know that I’m a Republican and a Racist,
but not THEREFORE a Racist! Let’s, like, get real!
-Constant experiment! It’s the Science Life.
-They pay you for this?
-Your government does.
-Well, now with our new Righty bunch, you’re out
on your ass!
-Not necessarily. Why, look! The diagram changing
before our very eyes.
-Looks to be-eeeee about seven Republican Racists.
-They’ll be deified.
Labels: experiment, government, racist, Republican, Republican Racist, science, Venn
Monday, November 10, 2014
Leans, But Unafraid of Truth
One of our gang is a newspaper columnist. Unlike us,
he leans Right. But, you can always bank on a
stinging answer, no matter where you’re coming from.
“How come they can’t let go of the O’s Community
Organizer past?”
“Makes them seethe anew. They like that. Hand in glove
with Race–-if anybody pulls up in a Purple Scion and asks.”
“Why don’t you write about it? Don’t wanna sound Lefty?”
“I have no care as to how I sound, and never have! But the
sneer in question is cheap coin. I’ve upgraded my Treasury.”
“What kinda newspaperman are YOU?”
“I don’t know: Leaving the yellow but not quite for the pink.”
There he laughs uproariously. He enjoys no humor but his own,
and that so fully, it’s an embarrassment.
Labels: columnist, Community Organizer, humor, Left, newspaper, Obama, Race, Right
Sunday, November 09, 2014
The Dear School
“Anything you say!” she said, and meant it.
He had never met any woman who...!
Boring etc and etc...before this.
Anyway, was transfixed,
mixed,
and bitched.
End
of
story.
Labels: relationship, sex
Saturday, November 08, 2014
Channeling Fred
Sacrifice Staging
Half-stocky fellow channels Fred Astaire.
Wife, his scattered Samantha, launches
unexpected punches at him.
This Renz, therefore, choreographs a
sort of Reverse Apache for them.
A will, an art from accidents.
Labels: apache dance, choreography, dancing, Fred Astaire, staging
Friday, November 07, 2014
Friend Setting off a Chat
-Needs a break!–-sick as a freakin dog
-Will he get it?
-Nah.
-That nah seems compounded of sarcasm
and tragedy.
-I got others in brighter colors.
-For light times at Black Rock?
-I’ll be Spencer Tracy!
-Don’t see it. Sorry. A Wally Cox role?
-Don Knotts I’d prefer. More resonance.
The women flocking round!
-Is anything serious?
-I’m still looking.
-So is Diogenes.
-That Minimum Wage job?
-Less. Tips to keep him moving.
-What’s he looking for here, really?
-A country.
Labels: Bad Day at Black Rock, Don Knotts, nation, sarcasm, sick, Spencer Tracy, tragedy, Wally Cox
Thursday, November 06, 2014
Halloween
Dances with Ocelot
“Claws fake,” it purrs, “but I just wanna st-
RETCCCH with you until something happens.”
But Tattoo of the Wrench-Mouths arrives.
The real one, and briefly alone!
Labels: famous musician, Halloween Dance, music group
Wednesday, November 05, 2014
A Tale of Two Cities
-Dr Johnson said that a man who is sick
of London is sick of life!
-How ‘bout Cow Gulch, Wisconsin?
Never find a girl here to twink your tiddles?
-If you do, you’re Knight of The Round Table!
-Or of Kippy’s Kool Kup?
-An impossible standard, that latter.
-They also serve who only suck it up!
Labels: drinking, London, love, rural hangouts, Samuel Johnson, sick of life, Wisconsin
Tuesday, November 04, 2014
True Love
-I know you’re affectionate and all that, but lay off
the stroking of the cheek!
-We found gold in you, Senator!
-Well, keep...less demonstrative.
-And you’ve uncovered a bit yourself.
Labels: gold, influence, politicians getting rich
Monday, November 03, 2014
Rocco and Lefty's Other Brother
discuss one political stance,
or heartfelt hold
LOB
The Dems running away from Obama.
R
A pronounced and revered strain in the party!
LOB
Yeah, Cowardice. And Republicans keep stinging
with the same question: Did you vote for him?
R
And, therefore, the dead horse in the Benghazi
courtyard.
LOB
Keep beating it?
R
It's symbolic of their whole reason for being.
LOB
I thought it was to comfort the comfortable
and afflict the afflicted.
R
They'll let you out of that last! Takes some
shekels.
LOB
Will they do what I say then?
R
Probably.
LOB
You're painting 'em too melodramatically.
It's not like every close-minded prejudice
gets added up!
R
Well, don’t add the Race one! That and
accepting bribes being their only constants.
LOB
One more! They're prospering with a
product that's shit.
R
Pay enough, they'll drum up underwear
and rubbers.
LOB
Republican Rubbers already has a ring!
R
Who’s your other brother? When can I meet him?
LOB
Don’t bother. He snored through his honeymoon.
R
Couldn’t the girl shake him awake, do a little
sexy dance or something.
LOB
Went back to Italy.
R
Thus, pines there?
LOB
Not the type.
R
Well then, the Human Drama!
LOB
And other pains in the ass!
Rocco is a fictional character in South Philadelphia.
But don’t say that to him!
Labels: Benghazi, Benghazi Party, Democrats as cowards, Lefty's Other Brother, midterm election, Republicans, Republicans as Scoundrels, Rocco
Sunday, November 02, 2014
Courtroom
Media Excitement is Absolutely Excitement!
Another Opening, Another Show!
And the gangster is a prankster!
Funny as hell in speech too.
The prosecutor has a list of those he snuffed.
It’s boring.
But then it gets repeated, and our Star has
an appropriate remark for each victim.
Camera people and mike-thrusters go nuts after!
They’re making a movie, too! Bet you didn’t know that!
Labels: gangster, gangster humor, media frenzy, trial
Saturday, November 01, 2014
A Parable Between the Stars
Bellsome-9 made Heloise-16 his Dream Girl
But she objected, since his speech was halting,
and she felt that they’d never get to it. In the
dream, or the life.
As a result, she migrated, without permission.
And Glad-44, instead, clanged in.
Belsome-9 awoke with headaches.
Having heard the ad-whispers, he signed on to the
short string of planets. Starting with Rolful, where
they eschewed machines and robots, thus all work
done by hand. There he grew strong!
When transferred to Maxton, he found the same rules.
No wonder, it was the same planet! Those who know
Rolful humor can understand.
Final planet was Opera, where they sang everything.
When Belsome-9 finally got home from there,
he couldn’t stop. This made him popular with the
women-–and he had retained his muscular body
from Rolful-Maxton.
With so many actual girls he didn’t require a Dream
one anymore.
And he started writing songs!–-in Opera there had
been no actual songs, just workaday tasks, sung.
His first one:
Got a body out in space
and it made me an ace.
Now I write songs
to right wrongs
for the rest of it.
So that’s new.
A meadow is freshest
with dew.
The Culture Commissioner immediately declared him
a National Treasure, and his original Dream Girl came
sucking round, but he dismissed her “with extreme prejudice!”
Labels: dream girl, future, language, opera, planets
