Saturday, October 31, 2015
Preparing
-Rebel without a cause? Guilty for a good part of
the time. But, often WITH one and pursuing with
righteous fire, whatever the outcome!
-Uh huh? Devil taking the hindmost? But, more often,
the mishmash of everyday existence with the wheels
slipping and sliding. Gray and more gray!
-That too.
-Hey! It adds up to personality! So what? You got one.
So has everybody else!
-More...than that, somehow...I’m....
-on the downhill slide. Finally got here, and trying to
figure it all out before the humongous blackness
-I’ll buy that.
-Well, don’t bother. Enjoy the view!
-Next you’ll be telling me smell the roses.
-All of wisdom in that little imperative!
-Tomorrow.
Labels: friends, landscape, living, personality, quality of life, rebel, Rebel Without a Cause, smell the roses
Friday, October 30, 2015
Exiting
-I just don’t want that sudden jolt of blackness.
-No one does. We’ll ease you in.
-Or out?
-Out. Yes.
-And, I can opt...?
-We’ll tape a buzzer to your right hand. Simple
enough to press the button. There’ll be time.
Like the one at the Eye Doc? “Press when
you see a tiny flash on the white background?”
-For peripheral vision. I’ll press if I decide to live instead.
-Simple enough! Your wife will be in Bermuda?
-Shopping along the harbor. Do you find that strange?
-I find nothing strange, and everything.
-She’ll be back for the service.
-At the university, yes. Your ancient colleague playing
Mozart on the flute.
-Showing will be sparse, so many dead.
-I’ll be there. We just don’t drop our people!
...a few students who like your work.
-Really? How nice!
...
Musings as he goes under.
Hearing voices etc.
His as a child.
Labels: assisted suicide, choose mode of death, death, directed death, directed suicide, Euthanasia, suicide
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Couples
-She's her own worst enemy.
-That's only at work! Goes home
to a World-Class Son-of-a-bitch!
-Then it's tit for tat time?
-In spades! The condo board is tossing
them out. Their interminable fights have
shoved the building’s foundation a full inch!
-So they deserve each other? Big Deal!
Besides, who sees them all the time?
They may have worked a truce.
-And what they're doing to make everybody
else miserable is the result?
-Enough! Life is too short. Let us speak
of a sweet couple!
-A WHAT?
Labels: condo, condo board, couple, couple fighting, fighting, marriage, misery, relationship
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Our Foreign Friend
hung with us at Kippy’s Kool Kup. Seemed
almost American in many regards, but
seethed at some of the ignorance we displayed.
Well, what the hell do we know about his country?
Besides, our stupidity was just a form of kidding.
Mostly, we didn’t know that the silent treatment
formed a respected convention there.
He stopped talking and would draw little
cartoons by way of conversation.
After nine months of this he announced
“Gestation new American citizen become
finish!” He had turned in his passport, and
passed his exam!
Shockerino!
The old counry didn’t give up, though, sending
two blocks accoutered in pale canary slacks
and chartreuse shirts with tiny alligators over
the right tit.
He hid in the kitchen, Cook Dorothy telling him
that they’d have to come through her, and that
couldn’t happen.
The gangsters left, and Dorothy and he got engaged.
A little something between them beforehand? What did
he draw in previous kitchen visits?
Fast forward a year and Kippy retires, selling the place
to the old married couple.
We often ask him if he hated us for saying brainless things.
“That was American then,” he assures.
Labels: American, attitudes towards foreigners, citizenship, foreigner, immigrant
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
From Sea to Shining etc
-This'll serve as a kind of pass. You can look at it,
but you won’t recognize a word.
-Printed in a third-grade hand.
-All you’ll need.
-And if I tried without...?
-Life is cheap. And has gotten ridiculously so.
-I’ve noticed.
-Follow each and every step, and do exactly what
you’re told.
-You used to preach the opposite.
-Freedom was the catchword then. Times change.
-And you with them?
-Or be crushed!
-Well...best be off on my arduous...
-Or you’ll be arrested!
-How about you?
-I maneuvered myself into one who arrests.
-So, I should be afraid of you also?
-I wouldn’t linger. Catch the Swiss Fall. Just before
the ice and snow. And don’t miss Mass there! Ever!
-Will you join me?
-Wouldn’t be surprised.
-But you’re safe!
-No one is.
-What if I have a lover by then?
-We’ll share him or her.
-Another 180! Once dead set against any collective
anything! “Share? Don’t make me laugh!” you spat.
-It don’t mean a thing if you ain’t got that swing.
Labels: adaptability, danger, pass, political danger, politics, refugee, safe conduct, Switzerland
Monday, October 26, 2015
Learning To Read
-Federal
Government actually wants to move offices to our little hick town! Jobs!
-And?
-Our Senator
“Government-Waste” against it at the top of his lungs! His “statement” goes on
detailing the additional fraud and abuse of the particular department. Thus, lots
of face-time on all the networks, too. Bottom line: no chance! His Crusade! Against US now!
-A shame
because we could use those positions. Just about a gray depression here!
-Yeah, whole
town’s color of suet.
-Whatta crumb!
-But, well…that’s
not the way I read it. So…final, I mean. I actually read “I’m ultimately okay
with it…if my nephews and nieces get jobs.”
-Reading…is
an art, then? Even though it can go quite slow.
-You can never
really really perfect it in one lifetime.
-So…when can
the new offices open?
-When he gets
back here to cut the ribbon.
-Family can
help him do that.
-Nothing is
more probable!
Labels: local politics, Nepotism, political wisdom, reading
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Crime In a Conservative Place
How awful
to be caught!
Red-handed,
as they say,
when not even
a prior suspect.
The religion
you're stuck with
enables your dead
parents to keen
after you
everywhere.
Pile on.
But they like
the eventual
plea bargain.
Labels: Conservative, crime, haunting, parents, plea bargain, religion
Saturday, October 24, 2015
The Pretty Memory
"I think of her every day of my life!" Flannery went on
detailing her hair and eyes, and quite tiny foot.
“We couldn’t see each other that we didn’t flood into
each other’s arms!”
Needed Flood Control in those Irish Villages! -from Larks.
"I’ve had romance,” cried Nellie-Dru. “It’s great for humiliation!”
Bert added “Amen Amen I say to you that when a man or
woman so incline, that’s the way they do. No help for it!”
“That’s an incline up to hell and down to rocks!” Nellie-Dru was
certain, but Flannery told her that her images always lack logic
and contradicted themselves.
“Viva contradiction!” Larks shouted.
Flannery said that he may be an old fool, but they‘re young ones!
Nellie-Dru snapped “You don’t convince anyone. You’re really
always Crabapple Jones, no matter the pretty memories!”
“Well, I’m grumping away for the nonce.” Every afternoon, he
looked to see Deirdre again. Though she’s an old lady who
probably stays in Ireland.
No one resembled her in Barnes and Noble, but a Jennie intrigued.
She was learning to stock shelves under the tutelage of one,
Mickey-Mac.
“I’m retired, but the pension buys few skittles,” she remarked to him.
Flannery pretended interest. She had the hair like his beloved, though
dumpy otherwise.
He engaged them through a discourse highlighting how difficult
it is to learn a new task. “And then one day everything clicks!”
Mickey-Mac, first puzzled, nodded.
She smiled uncertainly, but seemed reassured.
Anyway, they both took an instant like to him. No wonder!
When old crabs dial up the charm, it’s a miracle ranking
with Loaves and Fishes.
Labels: Barnes and Noble, books, friends, Irish, memory.love affair, Old Age, Romance
Friday, October 23, 2015
Rural Wits
-How the Republicans doin’ with
their Ben and Ghazi TV?
-Look for yourself. The one on the
wall there!
-Anyways, they’re stopping beating
a dead horse.
-In favor of…?
-Fuckin it!
-Shorty! Mute it with your remote.
Sounds horrible!
Labels: beat dead horse, Benghazi, politics, Republican
Pres w/my name
Rap was he couldn’t walk and
chew gum at the same time.
Decent guy! Unlike the clownish
pricks in his party.
Like Sen_____ and his N-Joke Collection.
Avoided! late in his interminable service.
“Political Correctness has sunk this great republic!”
Labels: Gerald Ford, Political Correctness, racist, Republican, senator
Thursday, October 22, 2015
A Future Family
The Commander
Enter pissing, and Norelco fulfilled the stage direction
(his name since five, when he shaved his head).
The ski resort sent a bill for the damage, and Lorine-Dell
showed it to her attorney, who told her to give it
to the divorce version of him to be part of the settlement.
In the meantime, the father attended a session with
a psychiatrist to discover why Jellybean keeps cutting
herself.
The answer, none, but she should still attend Group, and
keep working in Amazon’s Warehouse.
N1 (for Normal One) inserted into his thoughts in the car.
He had just paid her ridiculous tuition at the pretend Paris
university, where she roomed with a pretend revolutionary.
Who mostly translated ancient Arabic poetry into French, and
quite feverishly recited some on his last visit there.
Impressive, despite his super abundance of black hair.
Stopped for Starbucks latte to go.
...
The Bentley could self drive and he thought, in his scattered mood...
Well, be better to sip and NOT think.
Home! commanded he.
Labels: Bentley, Family, mental illness, pissing, revolutionary, self cutting, Starbujcks, wealth
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Females Confer
"As To War..."
-I’m ready to check out the old gang–-males of course.
-No use. They’ve become urinary to a man. Prostate.
-Then, let us find a lower age group!
-You...sure?
-I’ll increase my workouts.
-And pray?
-Hey, the lust-thrust of a healthy female is not to be wasted! Almost a divine command!
-Onward Christian Soldiers!
Labels: healthy women, Onward Christian Soldiers, prostate, sex, sex drive, urinary
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Guns Against Vulgarity
-I put the word tits in my blog.
-Whyso?
-Because I’m vulgar. I’m a vulgar person.
-What does your mother say?
-She doesn’t care about that stuff. It’s the
other mothers! They could organize!
-Already have.
-Yeah, but the few men weaken their group.
-They out-girlie the girls. But, watch it!
They open-carry in addition!
-Oh Dearie Me! The hos-TILL-it-TEE!
Labels: guns, hostility, open carry, vulgarity, women
Monday, October 19, 2015
Wagging Benghazi,
Encore encore encore!
-Will Benghazi Committee go on as long as the
Afghan War?
-Where there’s a will...
-Just grilled female aide for five hours, I understand.
-Yeah, but just a Muslim.
-Part of the War on Women?
-The final hill is in sight!
-All intended to terrify the broads?
-More like infuriate! Don’t know but what we like
that better!
-Whichever. If the pretty little shoe fits...?
-We pay for those. Best to cut the credit cards in half!
-For starters. But...well, no end to the lessons they must
be taught!
-A duty. Sometimes painful, yet sometimes delightful.
-We get a blackeye, though God knows we’re broad-gauged!
Labels: Benghazi, broads, Clinton, Congress, Republican, shoes, slimy motives, War on Women, women
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Obsession Adjusts,
In Short Order
After all these years, it gnawed: must see
Rosy again!
Finally I read of her marching off to war, so went
to the railroad station.
She had become Rock, but I still yearned.
Though mourning her lovely tits also.
Labels: obsession, sex change, war, what gets lost
Saturday, October 17, 2015
His Evolution
After he started thrashing, Cecily insisted on twin beds,
cluttering his tiny studio further.
Shortly after, she left. Business trip to San Francisco...
where she decided to stay, hiring on with a weight loss
emporium. She chatted of her boss quite a bit, and then
the phone calls ceased.
Brad piled bills on her bed.
Enter Brennan. Yes, Brennan! Female. He often sang the
phrase Brennan On the Moor, which she found to be just
another of his Irish eccentricities.
Brennan had inherited a penthouse condo from beloved
Uncle Maxie. So, Brad gave his landlord notice,
Offering to leave the “furnishings.”
He took the bills from the bed, most had been paid, and
burned them on a grill in Rupp Park.
And became quite willingly neater and cleaner in the
luxurious digs.
One morning from her frantic cell: “I forgot the gray
attache case!” It evidently held documents equal to
Magna Carta, so Brad trundled it down the elevator
to meet Brennan’s squealing tires resounding in the garage.
Still in robe and pajamas, so she erupted “Aren’t you
going to WORK?”
“I thought I’d give it a shot.”
She shook her head and barreled out of there.
For some reason, the elevator shuddered at their floor.
“Good dog!”
From.
Him.
Issued.
Labels: Brennan on the Moor, condo, dog, Irish, living together, Magna Carta, penthouse, relationship
Friday, October 16, 2015
Rising Again
The Election
“Explain it to them one more time, Smitty. But make
it simpler!”
That from a carrier by my back fence. “If that’s
possible,” added another.
Then they laughed, jostling the usual racist signs.
I had to explain nothing, not running this term,
Giving my slot to a black woman who was trying
this last time.
She proved the most amusing to them of any
possible candidate, and they called her Aunt
Jemima. They had a huge cardboard cutout
of the real one, and moved it around in
seething psychodramas.
When the results came in that evening, it floored
everyone. She won overwhelmingly.
I went into the Lions Den then, their HQ. It was glum,
and the jokes grittier. But I had to see the Police
Chief quickly. I really had no office or platform to
request it from, but asked politely for protection for her.
That, of course, amused him. “No arrests tonight,
and none expected. You gotta learn to relax.”
The best I could get was that they’d “keep an
eye on her--which will be easy because of her
girth.”
I phoned her with congratulations. “Worry not, Smitty.
Already hired three bodyguards. They look like walls
and are not known to laugh!” Then we laughed.
There WAS a murder that night, one of the carriers
taking out another.
The next day, the other party sent a DVD to the TV station
showing the destruction of the cardboard Aunt Jemima
by a bazooka-like weapon.
Cousin Jessy and Uncle Mac played it in an endless loop,
former announcing: “We’re still buying cars in all this
excitement!”
Uncle Mac adding: “And Frontier Dodge-Nissan’ll get
you from O to 60 before you even started out!”
Then the news informed that the FBI wanted a copy of the DVD.
"Frontier’ll sell ‘em that new humongous Hog-Wrangler
if they come here."
Cousin Jessy answered him, “Get the whole bureau
in one of them babies!”
Labels: Aunt Jemima, black woman, election, guns, open carry, Race, racist
Thursday, October 15, 2015
A Baby in Something
Just One Crisis
Hopey, somehow, became a sort of project
manager for the new condos being built
for artists.
He had been merely one who scraped a
down-payment for an efficiency apartment.
The Plumbers Union president astounded by pulling
his members from the site!
Shouting at Hopey “It’s a 14E job and you want 14!”
What could that mean? He went into the plans on his
computer, but could find nothing.
Then he became paralyzed. Hours fled. Finally called
the only true adult he knew. A former big man who
knew others. “You sound like a dove that flew into the
side of a building. He looks dead, then staggers
a bit, but in the end, flies away!”
“I’m...looking dead!”
A scheme hatched where this Smit would phone a city bigshot.
In An entirely different department, but he, in turn, knew
who else to call.
Plus, Hopey had to reach as many people as possible
at Licenses and Inspections.
He did, re 14, 14E, and was soaked and dazed at the end.
The following day, the union guy came to his cramped
office and screamed. Hopey screamed back. Both men
grew exhausted and the union chief finally whispered,
“We’ll all come back tomorrow, but you’re absolutely
assuring me the work lands between 14 and 14E.
I don’t want any freakin legalities!”
Hopey phoned his new mentor that night to thank him.
He sensed an atmosphere of patient realism, and thus
exclaimed “I know. I know! I’m a baby!”
“Everybody’s a baby in something. You grow up
because people depend on you.”
“Don’t! Don’t depend on me! Ever! I can’t fuckin stand it!”
“Do you believe in God?”
Dead air, and then “No.”
“Too bad.”
Labels: artist, baby, condos, contract, God, handling conflict, legalities, plumber, Union
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
Wages of Sin
GOP Office
-He gave up waiting and left. Oh here it is! Ben...somebody? Ghazi! That's it.
-I'm NEVER in to that prick! Costing us the Presidency!
Labels: Benghazi, Benghazi Party, GOP
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Exits Three
-My Aunt Betts, who never swore, unleashed a blue streak
when dying.
-Was she horribly disappointed in life?
-Quite the opposite. Laughed more than her share.
-Then, why do you suppose...?
-Became available.
...
-Randolph, the horse, found solace as we read
Kierkegaard to him.
-Did the vet recommend?
-Said it wouldn’t hurt. Being and Nothingness.
-That’s Sartre!
-What the hell’s a horse care?
...
-The professor explained a paradox as he expired.
-Were you edified?
-Mumbled too much.
-As in life. Where do you suppose lost words go, anyway?
-The air. You walk into them.
-And then act?
-Not if you can help it!
Labels: blue language, death, deathbed, horse, Kierkegaard, last words, paradox, professor, Sartre
Monday, October 12, 2015
Parts of Baseball
Utley slid
to History.
Suspended
for an act
countless others
perpetrated
with impunity.
Take true menace
from the game?
Tea-Hiatus
install,
instead?
And go ahead
and replace
the Bulldogs with
Biche Frisons.
Labels: Baseball, Biche Frison, bulldog, Chase Utley, slide, tea
Sunday, October 11, 2015
The Beauty Thing
Her View of Herself
J’s beauty consisted largely of makeup
meticulously applied, and a series of
tricks, some newly learned from Czech spas.
This last fad her girlfriends shared, laughing
over coffee and low cal...well, anything.
The translations proved especially gawky
on youtube.
She refused to let boyfriends see her in the
morning, setting the alarm for five.
The rest of her life consisted in buying clothes.
Her parents disagreed. Mom: so so pretty; Dad:
useless weight on the fuckin earth!
The only crises to move her was physical.
An herbal paste causing a rash along her
shoulders.
Thus, the dermatologist came on her team,
joining the plastic surgeon and others.
Her lips beset. Too thin. Injections made them
ridiculous.
J took vacation time and hid. The lips were gotten
down to large, but not absurd.
Weeks for that! her father fumed. Her mother laughed
a setback but, again, so so pretty.
One day you walk from the frame, and a young woman
takes your place.
With J, she was rather pushed from it. Transferred to
Brazil to help start a new branch, she soon graced
Rio’s beaches. But, lost mid so many younger beauties...
But not in the mind of a man who runs fleets of taxis.
He courts tirelessly, and they elope to Vegas.
In two weeks, she develops a slots problem, but he keeps her
budgeted.
They drop in on the parents before going back to Brazil.
Dad likes anyone hard-working. Mom pronounces so so pretty,
but too young to marry!
Placido doesn’t mind all the time spent on makeup and clothes.
He says she’s beautiful with or without.
He’s considered handsome in a gray-tinged way, but could
care less.
Labels: aging, beauty, beauty work, gambling, makeup, marriage, mature beauty, parents, Vegas
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Force of Nature, or Pain in the Ass?
Our Diva
When our Jeanetta goes full voice, we avoid her, naturally.
Our Diva! insists Mark, who sees little wrong anywhere.
The rest of us in self-preservation mode.
I remark that even her few harmonies now clash,
rubbing us crazy.
Mark says the rest of us crawl between heaven and earth,
while she mostly soars.
Uh huh? Leaving the gang battered once again.
We never learn.
The best parts of us don’t! insists Mark.
Then why don't you marry her?
It's forbidden by Heaven itself! A man must not
proceed to his death if he can help it.
He wants her declared a National Treasure!
We have other suggestions.
Labels: behavior, difficult personality, Diva, ego
Friday, October 09, 2015
Restoring Electoral Balance
Republican Electoral Official
Now your Black being
root Democrat, we
attempt a few things to re-
turn balance hereabouts.
America, electorally, truly made
better thus. Yankees so talk
suppression, but
don’t understand how
it feels here. We’re just walk-
king Jim Crow back to where he’s
comfortable
again.
Labels: Black Vote, Jim Crow, Republican vote suppression, voting, voting rights
Thursday, October 08, 2015
What He Did
-I’m still not clear as to what you did.
-Nor I. The young prosecutor was, and in
flaming righteousness! His presentation
involved someone I’ve never met, but he
claimed was me nonetheless.
-At...any rate...?
-I eventually did nine months. Gestation for new citizen after the State Fu...!
-Will you ever get it expunged?
-I’m in a pretty large, active group and there’s a fair chance, once we jettison this regiment of crooks and liars in office now...!
-Good luck with that! If they know anything, it’s how to stack the deck.
-Remember that Land of Free, Home of Brave stuff?
-No.
Labels: conviction, crooks, Home of Brave, Land of Free, liars, prisoner, prosecution, prosecutor, railroading
Wednesday, October 07, 2015
Two Stages of Reaction
The new, scant millionaires are worried sick
most of the time! Government and everybody
else threatening to claw money back!
And always the atmosphere of violence!
Vocabulary of Hate! The children feel it at school.
The billionaires swim through the menace. Laugh. If it does come to guillotines and executioners, they’ll buy them.
And if that proves impossible, they’ll yacht to nations they already half own.
Their senators crewing.
Labels: billionaire, execution, executionor, guillotine, hate, millionaire, revolution, senator, Vocabulary of Hate
Tuesday, October 06, 2015
G9
In this particular retail, we have a code. G9 means an item starting with letter G and priced at 9.99.
”Tell the customer we don’t have any more G9s, just G15s back there. Because we DO have a shitload of G15s to get rid of!” (15.55).
“And when we run out of G15s?”
“We have a sale! Leading off with the old G9s, now G18s!”
“You’re gotta teach me pricing someday.”
“Nothing to learn. It’s chaos! Like every other freakin thing!”
Labels: customer, fairness, pricing, retail, retail clerk, retail pricing
Monday, October 05, 2015
Too Late To Escape
Smitty never got too far from the prison, the warden’s
brother in the next town putting him to work in his
hardware store.
Ten years had passed since his discharge, so he
became a good sport when the mayor of the prison
town asked him to join the celebration as it closed.
Actually, was to be the world’s largest pajama party, but
he signed on only for the interview on Good Morrow, Y’all.
There, Hoak and Betsy ran him through their conservative-liberal
shticks. Both wanted gloomy remembrances of the prison, but
he talked of the warden’s children playing hopscotch outside
his cell, and his wife bringing a comforter from the house when
Smitty got the flu.
Thereupon Hoak sneered of coddling, and Betsy launched into a
sermonette on rehabilitation.
At the break, Hoak whispered, “More Cagney, less Morgan Freeman.”
They showed pictures when back on the air of the last huge pajama
party at Edinburgh Castle. Dour Scots for the most part, but their
women charmingly swimming in men’s pajamas.
They had a clip, too, of a Guinness Man who wouldn’t commit, but
thought it was likely that their pajama party would edge out Edinburg’s.
When Betsy pressed Smitty about going, he told the pair he had to get
back to Cat Felix.
Thereupon, in the only spontaneous minute that show had ever seen,
he produced a snap of Felix from his wallet.
“White with the one black eye,” laughed Hoak.
Gushed Betsy “He’d be my cutie-patootie!”
Later, Spotlight columnist, See-All, commented “Cat steals show
from usual political squabblers!”
The mayor’s dithery man brought him to the bus, first showing
off the new, glitzy shopping center. The bright liquor store therein
had lousy security, so Smitty boosted a fifth of Seagram’s Seven.
Labels: cat, Conservative, liberal, prison, prisoner, rehabilitation, talk show, TV
Sunday, October 04, 2015
The Special Guest
-They call me Del, since I was manufactured in Delaware.
-Okay, Del, is there anything you want especially to do?
-Whatever YOU do is the intent of the program, but
anything more you desire to know about me is on
my website.
-Glimpse a bit of TV? Robot Games are on from Sydney.
-Please don’t make the mistake of thinking everything
I like is robo-centric. Important for me to learn more
and more of human things.
-Do you like the pajamas? My Aunt Millie’s Christmas
Gift, but over-flashy for me.
-I think they’re absolutely super! Just beautiful! They...
jump the light around.
-Cindy made these brownies before she left for her
neighborhood meeting. Do...you eat?
-Oh yes! I’m programmed to eat and just love it!
But...brownies? They’re not...?
-Called blond brownies. Light variety.
-Fine for me. I can digest anchor chains anyway. Cindy...is
sweet, isn’t she? I talked to her when they dropped me off.
After a minute, disabling my Irony Detector. Which I use
for ninety percent of human conversations.
-You can leave It off here. Not that we don’t laugh, but we
see life clearly enough to not need much wit, especially of
the sarcastic variety.
-Well, my memory is deficient of straightforward individuals.
I must interchange with Cindy as much as possible.
-Recommend it. But I could get jealous!
-A joke! You made one! Although it’s not your genre, you
must teach me what you know.
-Not a problem.
-I’m reading Mark Twain and Dickens and Shakespeare as we speak.
-The well-rounded robot.
-Yes...uh is that a joke too?
-Half a one.
-Subtle. Learning the subtleties is difficult. Oh excuse me for
laughing now: Tom Sawyer is such a romantic little circuitous fool!
-I don’t remember.
-You need a Memory Freshener. Stick in two electrodes and you’re
good to go!
-Do you think they’ll eventually make everybody robots?
-I’m not to say it, but that’s the plan. But so what? Cindy will be as
sweet and...
-I as square?
-Precisely!
Labels: human, irony, Irony Detector, memory, robot, Robot Games, robotics, Sarcasm Detector, Tom Sawyer, TV
Saturday, October 03, 2015
Family
The Final Sound
Gramps played with the new electric windows in his condo
till bedtime. Micks never saw him this happy.
Destry and Louise lit on Micks that next week. “It’s Phoenix!
Clamp the windows and crack up the A/C! But you wanted
to throw our money out the fancy-pancy windows!”
His Power of Attorney was actually none of their business.
The old man wanted the windows and Micks complied.
Anyway, they were no longer in the will after Gramps had
bankrolled their decorating business.
“Oh, they just don’t like you. Queer-Adver!” This from his
long-time partner, Rhett But.
Who, of course, made it a trademark to drop the final sound
at times.
Following month, all Gramps’ diseases assembled into a
Final Stroke.
The estate was easy for Micks. The old man had given
most away and had just lived on his pensions. They died
with him.
Destry and Louise got their oar in, or tried. Hinting that
they should get half of the proceeds of the condo sale.
“When you’re, anyway, throwing the money out those
fancy windows anyway...?”
Actually, the portion they coveted was slated for the
Humane Society.
“As a Christian,” Rhett But maintained to Micks. “I want you
to do more than the right thing! As to your toxic relatives?
Well...now...I must remind you, and me: Judge that you not be!”
So Micks wrote a check for the entire amount to The Humane Society.
Louise and Destry felt terribly wronged in the name of Family.
“Long live Fido and Fluffy!” they sneered.
But a new commission seized their greedy mind. A mountain
village of three thousand “cottages.” Lucerne!
“Oh! Swiss Roh-COH!” squealed Rhett.
The hilarity lasted through the Suns Game that night. A good
thing, since they performed listlessly against the Los Angeles Lake.
Labels: condo, Family, family conflicts, gay couple, Humane Society, inheritance, Lakers, Suns, will
Friday, October 02, 2015
Take a number!
Bureau, Blonde, Crab
“Well here I am again!” Blonde-Bubbly and seventeen and
vibrating cylindrical curls. She was sure Mr Telmark
could help her THIS time. She was exHAUSTED!
He told her he’d be taking a chance, that one of the
other offices she had visited should have hit her
document with the desired stamp.
But...she was so so charming. Even the acrid waitees
clutching their numbers smiled.
So, he stamped hugely, to her dimpled applause.
Then, same problem with a one not charming:
gruff red-faced bulldog. “You sent me on a
merry-go-round of lazy officials. Now here I
am back here, and I’ll get that damn stamp
if I...!”
Telmark couldn’t take responsibility! Not without
clearing it with a superior office. The phone
conversation had to do with DD-20.
An overarching program.
Once the bristling man paid twenty in cash, the rubber
stamp followed loudly. He was satisfied.
As was the office, DD standing for Dunkin Donuts.
To which Kristy and Dodds soon dispatched.
Labels: bureaucracy, Dunkin Donuts, gruff client, pretty woman, rubber stamp, waiting in line.bureaucracy
Thursday, October 01, 2015
Primer on American Exceptionalism
-They closed down the government again!
-Did anyone notice? But, why do we live in such
crappy times?
-Don’t blame MY party. We’re not eating fire
and shitting gold bricks for our greedy clients!
-No, you’re just laying down.
-Sheer fatigue! Anyway, you deal with the
government you got! Just placed my nephew
in a department.
-Which one?
-Not saying. They’ll try destroying that one first.
Labels: bureaucracy, cowardly opposition, greed, party, Party of Rich, political revenge, shut government
