Tuesday, June 07, 2016
Working At the Sawmill
Carly, Accountant and owner’s wife,
always passed your check with some
remark.
With me, always the same. “Some overtime
in there. Maybe you can start on your
falling-down shed I pass each morning?”
Getting the materials! I promised.
Actually the shed was used for the Saturday
Get-Together featuring The Banjo Maniacs
with Delsey-Do!
She carried a keyboard and sang.
Mix in some moonshine and marijuana and
harder!
This whole part of the county looked forward
to it.
Well, it did eventually fall down. No surprise.
And firemen dug us out.
Mostly scrapes and bruises, but I, your funny MC, missed a month at the sawmill.
Carly sent a card, original name scratched out.
Labels: drugs, Fate, sawmill, Southern, Southern worker
Tuesday, September 01, 2015
The Transformative Moment
-I was addressing a mob of Southern Cretins
when it kicked in!
-Thereafter, you believed the righty bullshit?
-Amazingly!
-You departed The Bank of Cynicism and
never returned.
-I wouldn't say that, not exactly. In my personal
life I still fuck immensely around. And not cynicism, Play!
-Would God approve?
-Can't live on Him alone.
Labels: cynicism, God, hypocrisy, political hypocrisy, politics, politics of cynicism, Right, Southern
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Played Out
The Big Exhaustion
When Smitty caught The Big Exhaustion, he stayed home and
watched familiar reruns. Soon he switched off the TV and
recited the scripts by heart.
Then, he rewrote them until they morphed into entirely different
shows. Thus, Gilligan’s Island became Mother Knows Worst.
At any rate, he amused himself. Those who didn't passed.
But there were no funerals because the undertakers had BE also.
Just about nobody went to work, though he tried again and again.
Luckily, his automated train kept running. But when he did finally
get to the office, he was alone mid computers all set to search
The Big Exhaustion. No cure, of course, regardless of the health
whackos and their exotic juices. Others averred you’d need gold
bars to buy your way to care.
Those juices abandoned at the office were tasty enough, but useless.
When Dilly Hotz managed to make it in, long dormant thoughts
visited him.
And her. But, no go. Both just tired out of their minds.
They lost track of each other when dogs invaded the company and
ate the envelopes.
It took him two days to walk home through empty streets because
the train just stopped and no one could stir to repair it.
Now only the Southern Stupid shows played on TV, and he proved
too finished to try rewriting their drivel.
So, he turned off the sound and just watched the girls.
Banners across the bottom of the screen announced the authorities
were trying to meet.
Also that The Big Exhaustion had simply quit New Zealand.
And people swarmed the streets and lanes!
America's turn would come. Heading our way!
Hawaii sparked up soon after. Aloha Moments everywhere.
He smashed into the 7-11. Took hours, and only Rice Crispies
remained.
His farts smelled like rice, but it wasn’t all that bad.
Finally, Smitty relented and rewrote the Southern Stupid shows
as Travelogues For Morons. He called it his Southern Strategy.
When NFL took over every channel to replay Bruk Utzler receiving
Lineman of the Week around 2000, Smitty did a video awarding
himself Weak Man of the Line.
Then he pondered: Had Dumbing-Down been the first condition
allowing The Big Exhaustion to take root?
All large questions on hold as The Big Exhaustion suddenly ceases!
Laughter everywhere, and people screaming at their kids!
Smitty decides to do parodies of his parodies, knowing that
never works.
Labels: cynicism, dumb down, entertainment, exhaustion, NFL, parody, Southern, Southern Strategy, TV, video, working, writing
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Calling CSPAN ,
the morons, fre-
quently Southern,
never shy. Grand Old
Parity there. A favor
to us Eastern Brilliances,
who’d not hear such drivel
otherwise. We do require
each other: the dazzling
threads of our coherence
next to...to...?
Labels: CSPAN, Eastern, Ignorant South, moron, South, Southern
Monday, December 08, 2014
Political Descriptions
Two Know It Nearly All Dems
-In their deeper Southern holes, Republicans
fanned the hatred of the black president
since Day 1!
-But that’s color-blind hate.
-Isn’t it?
Labels: "color-blind", Democrat, Obama, President, Race, Republican, Southern
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Hooray For Hollywood!
"Jidgey" Carker-Hollins turns into a huge banana.
Had been warned by physicians, but, like the rest
of us in other matters, mostly ignored them.
Happens at the office, like everything of moment
in his fated life.
Maintenance guys George 1 and 2 tasked by Boss,
Lippy Hoaks, to get rid of it. They drive the firm's
SUV to a Walmart lot and shove it out.
Captured by Security Cameras, and a speeded-up
version goes viral.
George 1 signed by an agent. George 2, hopeless.
He’s sent to Hollywood, and affects extra large
sunglasses. Also, an Oxford accent.
Cast as a professor Brit who turns into a rutabaga,
but, a colossal flop!
WHAT'S NEXT? headlines Variety. CUMQUATS?
The original banana metamorphosis is uncovered
as a fraud, and "Jidgey" arrested in El Salvador.
In the embrace of one, Conchita. Really.
The Republican Congress tries him, Exhibit A,
far past ripe on a large table. It proves to be
a sculpture comprised of a thousand ground-up
bananas under a skin of yellow Corinthian Leather.
Democrats attempt to comment on the stink,
but are caustically silenced by the Southern Chair.
His putdowns are legendary.
Those and Race have insured seniority.
Labels: banana, business, Corinthian Leather, Metamorphosis, Republican, sculpture, seniority, Southern
Tuesday, April 01, 2014
Making One’s Way...
With a Car
After a week's wait in Motor Vehicles, I was given a moldy Danish
by a Lion.
The hiring freeze years old, most of the old employees had died
in place, and Lions Club took over the operation.
Had presented an old pair of glasses and got a number.
Today was supposed to be its day, but...another required because
the southern state I had moved from had so far refused to let me go.
Thus I had their plates on my car and was in violation here!
Enter the Fixer. No cards today: you show your iPad. It flashes red at me:
We have a Cray, hey hey hey!
Blink and we solve the ruckus
for a hundred buckus.
Then it changes to For two hundred
buckus we true the ruckus.
“Which do you prefer?” he asks.
“You mean for prose style?”
“Exactly so. That's why we changed it. Solve was so weak!”
“Well...true is better?...come on! I'll pay the two hundred.”
‘For Art! Our HQ has paintings and sculpture nobody can fathom.
And musical afternoons.”
“Well, then, my money's going for something.”
I wave my Mastercard over his iPad. And it signals Done!
“A little slower than usual due to that state you moved from.”
“Oh yeah, good ole...”
“Don't say it! Just the mention opens us up to slander suits.
Their argument is that it evokes the corrupt, incompetent,
racist past. Or present. One.”
Suddenly my phone vibrates madly. Wife texts plates arrv.
“Those are the permanents. My crew already has temps on
your car.”
“But how?”
“They were put on right after you drove in. The Cray anticipates.
Like your lunch at Bald Louie's with Dorine from Accounting?
Better go easy there! We've red-flagged her for breaking up
three marriages already.”
“It's business. Tax stuff!”
“Uh huh? Cray pretty suspicious.”
“Will it follow me everywhere now?”
“What do you mean, will? By the way, Today’s Special: I entered
you into the Dominican Lottery and you won twelve bucks.
Comes off the tab at Louie’s.”
When I leave he whispers, “Apropos of nothing, that itch is
from nerves. Get some Gold Bond. Unfortunately, outa samples.”
Labels: car, fix, Gold Bond, hiring freeze, Lion, marriage, Motor Vehicles, red tape, Southern
Tuesday, October 08, 2013
Under God
Dedicated to Another Proposition
-I say carve out a new nation for these secessionists.
-Calling it...?
-Imbecilia.
-Where?
-Oh South Carolin-ia-Missi-Georgia.
Somewhere in that enlightened swamp
at any rate.
-But, how about the Western Imbeciles?
Be Trail of Tears getting them there!
-Somewhat like, but more blinding: Trail of
Tinfoil Hats.
-A plan! Not! I say one new nation with Southern and
Western pods.
-I'll go for that. Imbecilia then, containing Gunlandia
and No-Queersia.
-Speaking of former, will either have atomic weapons?
-Right after the Ay-rabs.
Labels: imbecile, Right, Secessionist, Southern, Western
