Monday, February 29, 2016
South and Portions of West
-Hey! Gulf has gotten impossibly wide. And I’m sick of hearing their cretinous drivel through the mouths of Republican hypocrites!
-Let them secede? Form their own Hee-Haw Nation?
-Encourage it!
-Will they have The Bomb?
-Haven’t thought of that.
-Open Carry Law for small atomic weapons?
-Really? Stow the hyperbole!
-I go a little crazy.
-I get the idea though: Best hold them
obnoxiously close.
-What a thought!
Labels: Bomb, open carry, red state, Republican, secede, Secession
Sunday, February 28, 2016
The Arguments of Music
“It’s no use,” cracked Happy. “The Earbud God
fetched ‘em back.”
He had awakened at three for the bathroom,
and couldn’t get back to sleep. So he plugged
in the earbuds.
His thing was wartime music. Bing Crosby,
The Andrew Sisters with Don’t Sit Under
the Appletree.”
“All those blocky clothes. The women looked like
football linebackers,” mused Dorothea.
“You want, instead, the lousy garage bands of eternity?
Or the crap you have today with shit lasers shooting
everywhere and the cretinous audience waving at the
glazed performers!”
“I’ve seen some of the latter actually responsive!”
“Hey!” he stamped it. “With Bing you got every word!”
“Unfortunately. Maudlin sick crap full of true love
while the whole world cheated.”
“Better than today’s incomprehensible Horst Wessel Song!–-
new propagandist smear-jive to further dull the dull wits.”
The earbuds never found. New ones bought to transmit
the historical past.
Happy again, well, happy.
Labels: Andrew Sisters, Bing Crosby, earbuds, Horst Wessel Song, lasers, Music, music history, musical styles, wartime
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Squeeze
George liked the era of touchie-feely while it
lasted. The office’s buxom women were never
safe from him.
He secretly called them his “Squeezes.”
That was in the language then. Some men,
and women too, having “Main Squeezes.”
His desire to have one led him to several
mistakes. No need to detail, just mistakes
that both parties acknowledge and move on.
It was also an era of amiable breakups.
“Facing reality” it was tabbed.
Things went along this relatively smooth highway.
Until Carlotta. Who never danced with a rose
between her teeth, but should have.
A Fireball!
Unfortunately she went batshit crazy. Her parents
drove down from Albany area to fetch her back.
They were quite genteel and not in the least Hispanic.
Hardly the Mad Lopez Clan from TV.
Smoothed down to generic suburban.
George felt immense guilt. He had never driven
a woman insane before. Like a movie!
And...shaken! Started hanging out with old bachelors,
Detts and Wally, and they hit the hockey games and
drank after.
The usual topic of conversation at the Arena Tavern
after was the team, of course, but it degenerated
to the subject of certifiable women
Soon after, they were joined by Vivian, a woman, full-fledged
in a way, but also a tomboy comprised of jutting angles
and therefore not squeezable in the least. She cheered
and swore and agreed her Sex crackpots.
But one day she went early to the game, to be joined
by them. And talked to a shy Canadian farmboy who
had just joined the team.
This became custom, and she began wearing dresses
and applying minimum makeup.
After a year, the Rangers called him up, and she
joined him in New York and they married.
Great for George and the gang because they got
guest tickets and were willing to take on the
long drive.
Then he met Dilly, who wasn’t nuts.
He had applied a smartphone app he had bought,
and she came out as an eleven percent possibility
of going insane. In the normal range.
Another worthwhile development in this timeframe.
He encountered Budge, who had worked with Carlotta.
“You?” he laughed, “drove her nuts? Not bloody likely!”
And told him that Carlotta had carried on with “Shaunessy-
the-Handsome,” Office Lothario. “Was him made her whacko!”
So, Main Squeeze who isn’t nuts, and old guilt lifted. Life is good!
Labels: Hispanic, hockey, insane woman, insanity, Main Squeeze, squeeze, tomboy
Friday, February 26, 2016
Deserving
-Then I married Trudy Trueheart.
-How’d that go?
-She became Flora Falseheart.
-Tragic!
-The girlfriends ran a bitter school.
-That was their role; what was yours?
-Always the same. I was born crooked.
-Like Original Sin?
-Like to think so, but nothing is original
with me.
-When you die they’ll screw you into the
ground!
-Save on coffin.
Labels: character, crooked, cynicism, dishonest, experience, girlfriends, marriage, Original Sin
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Drama Club, Underworld Museum
Joey Bettz’s Dillinger.
Tiny boys as chalk-striped, wide-shouldered gangsters, mega cute.
But toddler gun molls off-the-chart-adorable!
Especially, Betsy Aldopher as Polly Hamilton.
The older Davy Robb announces he's Machine Gun Smelly!
He knows it's Kelly, but 6-year-old's sneak-humor gripped by stinks and pee pee and poo poo.
Labels: Dillinger, gangsters, Lady in Red, Machine Gun Kelly, molls
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
The Title
When Kels got transferred to an office
further out, he abandoned his bike-nerd
role and bought a car.
A little sensible mini.
Bucky, his old fraternity brother, explained
that he could give him a good deal because
the title was a bit murky. But law had entered
in some complexity, and Kels received a title
document brimming with seals and huge
signatures. Some ribbons, even.
"You’re the owner of the car on file in Harrisburg,
and that’s where it counts."
But Kels loved the document so much he took it
to Bretz the Framer. Who set it up within an
ornately carved number which could have held
Washington and his First Cabinet.
Denise the librarian...thinking of coming
aboard and it, not he, impressed her.
“That’s when things MEANT something!
It’s up to us to make them mean something
today. I’m...pretty conservative, Kels, so if
you’re looking for phony passion and rolls
in the hay, then...?”
Kels lied that he was pretty conservative himself.
Her reflection in the glass fronting all the seals
and ribbons encouraged him greatly.
Labels: Conservative, Law, legality, Ownership, relationship, seals.ribbons, Title
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
When It’s Christmas-Time Down South
“Show a little pantie, Auntie!”
“Quench it! You whole damn lot of sex fiends!”
So...she left with an uninvited one.
‘Crusher the Crasher’ later married into
another, decidedly lower, branch of our
family.
Professors should study to affirm it’s human.
Labels: Christmas, Down South, Family, low branch, old maid, party, South, Southern Sex
Monday, February 22, 2016
Often At Debate
-Well I’m just EXHAUSTED!
-Whatever for? Did you actually DO anything?
-Played tennis early on.
-That should have worn off by now. Recovery Phase.
-You think?
-Who won?
-The four of us just ass around.
-Then? Let me guess, boutique-ing!
-I’ll kill if I don’t get a pair of Maxie Prentisses.
-Aren’t those just painted army boots?
-Not JUST! The Earth and Moon and Stars!
-Whatever floats your boat.
-Mine is sinking!
-Bear up! Somewhere at this moment a person
your age is going off to be killed in a war.
-Well that’s horrible!
-Our rare agreement.
-You don’t count.
-And YOU were once called a Bright Young Thing! In F Scott Fitzgerald novels.
-That’s ancient history, and you’re ancienter!
-Making up words?
-You just stay with the old ones! And then die.
-This conversation is for the ages. And the gods!
-They’re dead too.
-Too bad! They’d all be clomping around in
Maxie Prentisses!
Labels: boutique, Bright Young Thing, cultural history, culture, F Scott Fitzgerald, fashion, generation gap, gods, shoes, tennis
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Not Quite
Fellow tennis players labeled him
Capsy, since he always wore
a Royals cap while playing.
Backwards on cloudy days.
After, he entertained a table detailing
encounters with his sexual objects.
Alternately male, female.
His AC/DC rendered him very
nearly doubly interesting.
But not quite.
Labels: AC-DC, AC/DC, hetero, homo, Royals, sex, tennis
Saturday, February 20, 2016
The Women Who Sweep In
Keenly
Queenly
(Sometimes Drama-Queenly)
-It’s not that the hospital wasn’t prepared.
We knew she was coming! But Mosley, RN,
left the front desk to pee, and in that space,
she swept in. Volunteer Denise not up to it!
-But still explained it wasn’t visiting hours, etc?
-She swept by her and up the elevator and
into the unit!
-Unstoppable!
-Dr Holtzel just coming off shift and no
match for her. Soon he was following
orders in practically a sleep-walk.
-She makes men zombies?
-Just about. Okay okay, win some, lose some.
-But how can we be better prepared next time?
-Stiffen each line! She should never reach the doctor!
Never even get out of the parking garage! So let’s
get real officers in there, not old men playing pocket
pool who retired during the Carter Administration!
-I heard that sometimes they sweep in in teams!
-No hope then. That’s all she wrote!
-Why...am I laughing? It’s so potentially toxic!
-It’s funny? Not!
-No, I just thought have any of these women
actually, literally, swept in? Using a broom?
-Don’t be ridiculous!
Labels: bossy women, Carter, dominant women, Drama Queen, hospital, plan of defense, pliant men, sweeping women
Friday, February 19, 2016
Horse-Hoarse
-Inspector on rampage! She saw a horse rat.
-Hey, a government food operation. Why set
the bar high?
-My thoughts exactly!
-Besides, maybe she meant a rat with a gravelly
singing voice.
-Not as bad.
-Well, let’s hire a solid restaurant guy. I’ll write
the ad and you and I interview. Send the
congressional committee the top three.
-At that point, a congressman eases a retarded
nephew in!
-Thus was it ever? Were we the retarded nephews once?
-Bicklesnickles! Wozwerzers! Yopnoppers!
-That’s an answer. Or answers.
Labels: Congress, political job, rat, restaurant, retarded, vermin
Thursday, February 18, 2016
The Nonpareil
“Didn’t I tell you? He is the absolute BEST!”
Reg in the bathroom then, peeing like a
normal human.
But he was a God according to Cindy.
“We’re starting to set the date!”
Her mother kissed her.
Her father mused about “Enough losers
to form a line past that apple tree out there!”
“Your apple tree, Daddy. Oh you’re so
wonderful to have an apple tree!”
Cindy had gotten foolish and that was fine.
After so so much tragedy, real and imagined.
Reg returned, the smell of soap on his hands,
to amiable chatting.
Then the vital couple catapulted out: So much
to DO!
Bringing him a quiet coffee, but froze. He had
done the same in his beige recliner.
“This coffee has gooed-up in the cup,” later
noted Officer Simmons to Detective Bettancourt.
“And me without a spoon!”
Labels: admirable male, courtship, death, difficult daughter, parents
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
Worrying
-How are things in flyover country?
-Every day the same.
-What a blessing!
-More excruciating chaos than usual
in the Power Hub?
-In jagged spades!
-How much of your day is spent worrying?
-What part isn't?
-That's where my new service comes in.
And more time and space here to pursue it.
-Professional Worrier?
-No charge at first. A trial.
-You might wanna keep that up. Those who
work for nothing can set their own terms.
-Uh huh? Well, moving slowly along, must be
a client driving you bananas?
-He has invaded my dreams, even. Toxic Doozy!
-Let me worry about him!
-I'd need to give you some facts.
-Fewer the better. My worry will thrust better.
-And, should I just snap into passive mode.
Or keep up the frustrating one of action?
-Yes.
-Which?
-Makes no difference. You're taking a vacation
from worry!
-(aside) Pass me my straw hat and a gin and tonic, Dorine!
-Don't fall asleep in the sun!
...
-You can stop. Client threw up his arms and
walked out!
-That's a solution. I think I helped.
-Whatever. I'm free!
-But...a contract, no? He has breached?
-I'm letting it slide.
-We'd sue, even in this slow place.
-You can't sue everybody! Well, you can,
but that'd shove out too many aspects
of the usual worry, setting up new ones.
-Leave them to me!
Labels: business pressure, flyover, stress, tension, worry, worrying
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Killing Democracy
-This Superdeligate shit of the Democrats
sounds like a way to blow the nonconformists
out of the water.
-Sounds too much like a Republican idea.
-They’re too busy stopping the President’s
Supreme Court pick before he makes it!
Though Attila the Hun would pass muster.
-Name your poison!
-Screw both! Why don’t the COMMUNISTS run
against the ROYALISTS.
-Not quite yet.
Labels: Atilla, Communist, Democrat, Republican, Royalist, Superdeligate, Supreme Court
Monday, February 15, 2016
Rules
-Yeah, Norquist got it right! RIGHT! that is.
“The Democrats play for lunch, The Republicans play for keeps.” We’ve had some of their candidates babbling and asylum-ready!”
-Can’t go that far. Resigning.
-Thereby becoming THE ENEMY?
-I hardly think…”
-You wanna game without RULES?
Labels: Democrat, Norquist, political "research", political enemies, Republican, vicious campaigning
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Saving Math
-I've got the one bad habit.
-Not to say atrocious!
-I've taken measures to break it.
-Such as...?
-Well...half measures anyway.
-Then, the half get halved.
-Thus, quarter measures. Still okay.
-Whereupon...!
-Okay okay! Maybe I'm all the way
down to one sixty-fourth!
-Keep going and you'll get even worse.
-No. The math favors me, no matter what.
It's good for my character that I keep improving,
however small.
-By this time, indistinguishable from horror!
-Uh uh. According to Archimedes–-I think--I'll
never really get bad again.
-Those Greeks knew their shit. Not!
-(Sings) Life can be so sweet
On the sunny side of the street.
Labels: Archimedes, bad habit, Greeks, habit, math, self-improvement, sunny side of street
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Familiar 4
MAN'S PENIS GROWS FEATHERS!
-You ought to be ashamed!
-Hey! Boring supermarket line, I
peruse the literature.
-Well, see to it!
-Grow them? For your pleasure?
-Get started.
-It'll all about you, isn't it?
-You've noticed!
-At any rate, your wish is my command!
It can't be otherwise.
-Be careful in the bathroom. Maintain
your fluff!
...
Haunting
-I feel a strange vibration in this town!
-Vaginas. Women rule here!
-What will my role be?
-Buckling under.
-How to start?
-Hang up your trousers. Won't need them again.
-But in between, my ass will get cold!
-No great art without flaw.
...
Stressed
-Work has been mega mega pressure!
-No excuses. Get up or get out!
-And the loss of my mother...
-Been a year. She no longer has an
active role in our bedroom.
-When we married, you were right out
of Norman Rockwell. Now it’s the fellow
who paints Hell!
-Bring him around.
...
Deadly Deuce
Her ferocity shattered him. But she was
so so hurt!
He heard her out and was told to leave.
Thus, gained she a good hour for nails.
That late evening, his friends counseled
patience. Skip a day before phoning.
Rehearse the heartfelt apology.
“Let’s face it,” remarked Kirksey.
“You’re holding on to her for
sex only.”
Mark concurred, toasting “the
atrocious couple!”
But the dinged one protested love.
They refused to buy it.
So, drinking slowly, he tried tomorrow’s
lines on them.
“Day after,” reminded she.
Labels: arguments, couples, role playing, sex
Friday, February 12, 2016
Chrome
gives me aerial scene
shutting down. Our
city of businesses
and ball fields
from aloft
doesn’t resolve
to persons.
Too bad, pinhead
central to moving
puddle of you
not on view.
Labels: aerial, Chrome, perspective, pinhead
Thursday, February 11, 2016
Father of Daughters, Father of Sons
1)
Startled awake by discordant sobs
from two rooms.
With Cecily, Aunt Dot in nightgown and
army jacket.
"What the hell is going ON?"
She nodded toward the other bedroom where
Dinah’s noise had risen to retching.
There would his wife be, putting her finger
to her lips as a signal he should say nothing.
Two smashed romances, he guessed. But couldn't
visualize the individual males.
He held a generic one in his mind: stolid and
stupidly hormonal.
Walked out the garage to the freezing driveway.
The aunt's car whooped away, the door open.
He turned it off and closed the door and locked
it with the key. Put it in his robe pocket.
Three snow-streaked driveways over, spinning lights,
blue and red.
He walked towards them, his slippers crunching out
the wails from the house.
2)
Jumped from bed at the room pulsing red and
blue. When he got to the front door he could
see the slice of driveway with strident Budgey
on the ground being cuffed by the older cop,
and silent Hap running in the roadway, pursued
by the younger one.
No contest. Drunk B quickly exhausted, and
returned like a bundle. Then cuffed as well.
But left standing.
“What the hell...?” the father began.
"Suspicion of DUI," as officer coached the
manacled Budgey to his feet. "Quite one
weird chase from 7-11!"
The Dad allowed to check both as they protested
slurred innocence.
"They gotta be tested now. Send your lawyer in
the morning."
"A mother sleeping through all this?" shrugged the
younger one.
"She's at a conference for teachers."
Both cops nodded.
Right after the squad car extracted its colors, and
culprits, and the open doors of the remaining car
slammed shut, the two fathers stared dimly at each other
as black snow began softly falling.
Labels: cold, cops, daughters, drunk, DUI, family emergencies, Fathers, Romance, sex, snow, sons
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
Losing a Daughter
Cult
Came dressed
as ducks.
You know the whacked-
out rest of it
from the arrest
record. Sucks!
And quacking trial.
Hasn’t yet...cauterized.
But no daughter of mine
will ever again...!
Labels: arrest, cult, daughter, duck, trial
Tuesday, February 09, 2016
Two Low-Level Instructors
--in an Even Lower-Level Military School
-Wouldn’t that be in violation of The Honor Code?
-That what?
-It’s still written down.
-Doesn’t exist what is never practiced!
-Nonetheless. Why you’d say the Constitution doesn’t exist!
-No, it’s there. And we’re all trying. The haters especially!
Labels: Constitution, hate.military school, Honor Code
Monday, February 08, 2016
Saloon Anxieties
Double Drunk: As entre or side dish?
…
at the trembling moment...
-Never! Any little piddling…!
-How about terrorists?
-Crawling up my ass!
-Careful using your Glock. Get a clean shot!
…
Closing Discussion
Jitsy Malaprop: The Republicans is all fear mongrels!
The Professor: Out of the mouths of babes...
Labels: anxiety, fear, militarist, neocon, Republicans, saloon, terror, terrorist
Sunday, February 07, 2016
Short, But w/ Family Emotion
When Uncle Rack gave Bertsy a used laptop for college, he requested a Thank-You note practically instantly.
Phoned often, ostensibly to talk football, the university ranked.
Finally, drunk, both, Bertsy and roommate Ock, return laptop to sunporch.
“Thanx unc but decided to go cuneiform!” note avers
"Goddamn brat gotta lot t'learn!"
Labels: cheap, cheapskate, college, control, cuneiform, drunk, laptop
Saturday, February 06, 2016
A Short History of American Manufacturing
“Do it THIS vay!” insisted the Swede,
so Chuckie and I did. For years.
Then the Swede died and his brother
came for his tools.
We quarreled then. Chuckie stood
with the dead Swede, and I for myself.
So I did it my way, and Chuckie, the Swede's.
It got ugly. And silly. So much so that
we expected Management to intervene.
They didn't because they didn't care.
The products shipped as they were.
But they eventually made a decision!
To outsource the manufacturing to a
robotic factory in Mexico.
But Chuckie and I weren't out. We both
play the Swede in our display at Industry
World.
Have gotten a bit famous. Me on TV, and he on
Facebook and other social media.
The robots make absolute crap.
So much so that management has decided
to give the products away, and has installed
a monster service facility in our old factory here.
That way the customer ends up paying much more.
The Required Service Contract a Master Gouge!
Admired world-wide.
Chuckie and I laugh about how our lives have
turned into lies.
The Swede’s brother put up his tools on Ebay
so we bought them for the act.
“No Biz like Show etc!” twitters Chuckie to.
his thousands of followers!
But I’m not jealous, since my agent has just
nailed me down the role of Pepsi Grandfather.
Labels: Ebay, Facebook, management, Mexico, outsourcing, Pepsi, robot, social media, TV, work
Friday, February 05, 2016
Living in the USA
In perfect order as they come
from the new box.
As you can see as I fan-nnn them
thus, and thus, and thus.
Now I shuffle to randomize them for
a game. Watch carefully!
A few fast moments. I fan them
again and it’s a hodgepodge, no?
Inspect closer if you want.
Now, you cut any way you wish.
Ready to play? Not really.
I’ve stacked it. Whatever little game
we choose, I’ve the edge.
Now and forever.
Oh, and I took the jokers out. I told you
to pay attention.
I’ll make you a gift of them.
Labels: America, cards, Economics, fast shuffle, joker, stack deck
Thursday, February 04, 2016
Faces
-Reagan, the genial face of totally horrible, racist,
repressive, and exploitative politics!
-Oh come ON now! What’s the face of vicious
and addlepated Lefty politics?
-Professors meaning absolute good!
-Equals in bullshit therefore!
Labels: Democrat, Left, politics, racist, Reagan, Republican, Right
Wednesday, February 03, 2016
Subject
We gathered another evening
in the church, our priest
assuring us that the army
would arrive--and behave.
We knew of the commander,
perfumed and polite.
Two leerers showed up, evidently
the avant-garde. They told themselves
jokes, but then asked the priest to pray
for them.
He did, and they hit themselves and
sobbed.
We were intellectual Catholics, unused
to display.
And the rest of the rapist-murderers
proved as demonstrative.
We became Good Germans.
The phrase unfortunate after its
hundred year age, but there
you have it.
Labels: Catholic, conquered, Good German, intellectual Catholics, invasion, priest, rapist-murderers
Tuesday, February 02, 2016
Economics of Submersion
-You rail about prolix charlatans! But there are over-simplifying charlatans also.
-They’re even worse, since they attract believers.
-Where did all the decent, non-bullshitting men and women go?
-Up the fat cook’s ass!
-Really?
-My salty mother!
-Need more!
-On hold as they fight just to get families by.
Labels: believers, fat cook's ass, gabby, Middle Class, Mother, political charlatans, prolix, simple
Monday, February 01, 2016
Republican Club
-Some say no Cub Scout of the Week!
All the kids are trying very hard.
-Thus they’re ALL Cub Scouts of the Week?
-Exactly.
-Where’s MERIT in that?
-Shared.
-Bullshit! Cream will always rise. Can’t prevent it! My Georgie is up this week!
-Get the fix in yet?
-Patriotically! Like all Good Dads!
Labels: "merit", cooperation, Cub Scouts, fix, honors, merit, patriotism, Republican
