Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Imagination in Politics
-Parties might spend up to two hundred
a voter in this state!
-Amazing! This pissy place!
-So I went to the Republicans and told them
give me the two hundred outright! Cause,
I’m, like, stone broke!
-Doesn’t work that way.
Labels: buying votes, money in politics, Republican
Monday, September 29, 2014
-Gotta pour more money into the Iraqi Army!
-Give them roller skates so they can retreat faster?
-Wouldn't work in the desert.
-You iz right! How did the Eye-talians do it?
And just about everywhere! An Art Form!
-Going a ways back for an example!
-If the foo shits...?
-Speaking of which, how come you
punctuate every utterance with farts.
Labels: art form, Iraq, Italy, retreat, Whale
Sunday, September 28, 2014
The Golden Third
Well, did you like Rompsey?
Not really. What’s that last dreadful thing
"A bottle for a night, a woman for a week,
but a garden for life!"
Drunken male-chauvinist pig!
But not his last third.
I don’t know about that!
Hey! We all have that, then world’s okay.
Labels: drunk, gardden, male chauvinism, sexist
Saturday, September 27, 2014
The Wealth of Nations
Mrs van I was more than pleased to see Proprietor
Dolph tending bar. Would insure a proper evening
for her friends.
One irritation though, some black Major in
“Can you do something?” she asked Dolph.
“Once, yes. Now, looking at prison.”
But he proved to be funny. And, even, cultured.
Clincher: Sent a bottle of Dolph’s best French champagne.
As the evening swam, she confided in Dolph, “I’m becoming
a Liberal, despite myself.”
Lillian, their youngest member, eventually asked for, and
was granted, permission to leave with the dark person.
But had to promise to phone after noon.
If sex, detail.
Labels: bar, black, high- class bar, prejudice, privilege, sex, wealth
Friday, September 26, 2014
-That’s one bright one up there! When I lived way in
the country, just stars’d show the way to the shitter.
Didn’t need no moon.
-You realize that light has been traveling many
many years to get here? It happened tons and tons
of years ago.
-Uh huh? You went to that college two towns over.
They get paid to make things complicated. Look!
I see the light. I close my eyes and I don’t see it.
It’s there, I’m here. You don’t need no fuckin
light-years, or whatever they’re called.
-Hundred eighty six thousand miles a second!
Think about that!
-I did. It’s bullshit!
-How can you say that?
-As a Baptist. God’s up there taking charge. Alls you
-I don’t agree! God wants us to know as much as we can.
-No He don’t. That commandment He didn’t make.
-So, the light didn’t travel here?
-It’s up there and I see it here. What could be simpler?
Labels: astronomy, Baptist, country, light years
Thursday, September 25, 2014
-Well, we meet once more! Your Holmes to
my Moriarty! Dr Stark Z Reilly, noted
Criminologist! Expert in the Annals of Cri...!
-Speaking of which, you're probably in there.
-No such luck, Grimy Guru. No convictions.
-Ooops, I spoke too fast. Pinched for Speeding
in New Jersey. Paid the fine. Case closed.
-So, a criminal.
-Yeah, a regular Baby Face Nelson, Willy Sutton,
Lucy Borden, even--for modern variety’s sake,
and sexual tolerance in all acceptable examples.
-She was acquitted.
-Ah but the rhyme lives on! Pen being mightier than
-Whatever. No thefts or assaults on your record?
Convicted or not?
-Hey, in our neighborhood? Lifting something was, like,
a Badge of Honor! So when that retired cop, Totally White
Leary, trimmed his rosebushes with a neat-o little hand
thing, and absently put it down...?
-So pretty! Like jewelry. But I did it just to hear him roar.
-Ex and I, après drunken ice skating. One frozen word leads
to another and we swing some vicious haymakers. But they
land on layers and layers, so we just get exhausted to icy tears.
I can still hear the muffled blows and shrieks of frustration.
-Lovely story, but just Assault. Disturbing the Peace etc.
At any rate, you're a criminal all right!
-Hey, key me into your Annals of Vicious Crime then!
Be my guest! Like, lemme aid your academic freakin
career with my dark example!
-You're already in there!
-Oh yeah? Well maybe I care a hell of a lot more about
what St Peter is bringing up on HIS laptop.
-He's in The Cloud.
-Atheist humor, weaker than most.
Labels: assault, Baby Face Nelson, crime, criminal, Criminal Justice, Lucy Borden, marriage, speeding, Willy Sutton
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Rudd got in a conga line of slashing signs at
the Clean Water Demonstration, and had to sit
on the curb since his asthma started acting up.
Next to him, a polar bear. He tried conversation,
the way he did with any creature.
"Before you get any further," warned the bear, "I should tell you
that I'm frigid."
A female voice, and sultry, regardless of ludicrous sentiment.
Rudd rushed on to detail the purposes of the demonstration,
while she uh huhed in quiet desperation at his muddiness.
"You...want me to leave since I'm hardly Brad Pitt!"
"Well I won't. I'm treating you to lunch, in costume or not!"
The first place they went didn't serve polar bears.
But they stumbled on Lunch By Gus. Millie and Betts insisted
on hugs, and Mickey and Oops in the kitchen suggested Lasagna
Alfredo because of its whiteness.
Gus came in and told them their meal was on the house. "Hey! I fish, and the lake has turned into a piss puddle!"
"The rich prefer it that way!" shot the polar bear. Jen, in her
Well, Rudd and Jen hit it off after that, he eventually moving into her immaculate live-work studio, where she fashioned a brand new
polar bear costume for him.
The efficiency he left was condemned by the Board of Health.
Not really, but that was its flavor.
Twin bears at demonstrations after that, and interviewed
by the cable networks.
But then, Leadership wanted her solely in Organization.
So, Rudd went solo polar bear. He got awfully good and
made the whole bus happy going to DC.
His wrestling with cops there made TV news worldwide.
Thence viral videos in all languages!
A former gross polluter wanted him for commercials.
“Not just yet,” Rudd told them. “A few more things for
you to do.”
Which they did. After first, of course, maintaining it was
impossible. He turned the money back to the cause.
Rudd became famous, and Jen's costumes generally.
So, supreme cause, good life.
She passed with breast cancer. Everything dies, and everybody.
He became both of them after that, training a cousin in being
the polar bear. Thence, happily taking Jen’s organizational post.
Had been seen as somewhat scattered, but now everything
at his fingertips.
As if the Environment were a person you could sit down with,
and discover therein the exact resonance for life.
Labels: clean water, environment, organization, polar bear, pollution
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
All Kinds, Here and There
Elrenda's grandmother dealt Blackjack at the smallest
Indian Casino in Mississippi.
Hurricane Irmalene hit, depositing her sparrow-like
frame onto a power pole.
Which cracked in half, landing hers in the Mendsenal River.
There she reposes, pop-eyed mid murk and rubbers,
the half pole on the surface gouged out and replaced
by one in Ole Miss colors.
Bells wanted to marry Elrenda even though Grandmom
legally missing, and she finally relented.
The happy couple went to Penny's during their honeymoon.
Charmed, then, by a strange man at the entrance.
He arranged for a limo to pick them up at their motel, and they
haven’t been seen since.
Not a worry though. They’re in another dimension. No, really.
Guide there, Jerome, laughs at their questions.
Some sort of Jew.
Labels: dimension, hurricane, Indian Casino, Jew, Mississippi, Ole Miss
Monday, September 22, 2014
The Promise of Philosophy
“If life's an orange crate, you keep going back
through yesterdays to find the future there.”
Jeannie answered as she always did: “Whatever.”
Her piercings a-glimmer.
He sang I dream of Jeannie
with the light green hair.
Borne like a vapor on
the slutty air.
It sounded pretty, so they tried awakening the Guru
to hear, but he was dead.
Next day they sacrificed a virtual dog to him online.
Then, the vital doctrines reasserted: “Life goes on!”
Labels: emptiness, future, Goth, guru, orange crate, Philosophy, piercing
Sunday, September 21, 2014
criticized as Mitzi ran through the cable channels.
“That faker!..That idiot!...Stop that imbecile!...
Funny black folks? No thanks!....Young people
mucking everything up. Uh huh?...The News?
When it's about the frauds spose to be giving it?
Off with their talking heads!”
Finally, Zip took out the video camera, throwing
Uncle Harkie's image up on the screen.
“And chuck that fat-faced loser!” he laughed.
Labels: cable TV, criticism, Family, TV, video
Saturday, September 20, 2014
-I need a shrieker!
-To be heard over the Exchange Floor. I mean.
The bustle of IPOs...the news some CEO just got
pinched for a boy sex rap...or the preliminary bellowing
before the Crash!
-Sound of hearts breaking?
-My present girl yells, but then goes all kittenish
and girly-girly. And you can’t freakin hear her!
-This one can do C over C, and sustain. Bottles explode!
-But that’s all she...
-Hey, forget my former reputation! I even chucked
out the Viagra. Actual speed approaching Zero now.
-I went with her a while. It was like: Would you
care to move a bit, Missy? For my, like, ego?
-As I said, I’m done in that department anyway.
-The Earth has kicked into a new orbit!
-Good for The Earth.
Labels: female voice, sex, shrieking, Stock Market, TV, Viagra
Friday, September 19, 2014
VOTE REPUBLICAN. THE RICH NEED MORE!
Two Amateur Democrats
-Could be effective. Who you emailing?
-I pretty much just know Lefties.
-Wasted there, Preaching to the Converted.
And Righties’ll say it’s basest propaganda.
And Godless too!
-Gotta reach the Leaners.
-How you gonna find out...? Hafta buy a list.
-That’s the trouble with this country!
Everything’s for sale!
-It’s gone overboard, of course, but
I don’t know but that’s our strength.
Labels: ;Republican, Democrat, for sale, moderate, money in politics, political advertising, rich
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Imagery of Structures
-Letzi says she won't be an Aunt Jemima!
-I can hear her. Does she do nothing quietly?
-Her boyfriend puts cotton in his ears, but
takes it out when they do it.
-More than I want to know. But, anyway, she's white.
-Last time I looked.
-So, what's with the Aunt...?
-Burks, in Shipping, is white, but they call him Uncle Tom.
-So this plantation imagery has invaded our fair firm?
-You could put it that way.
-What? If you're inarticulate?...if I read your tone. At any rate,
Max, I wonder if those terms don't fit SOME power structures.
But, not here!
-Look, you're middle management and I , ahem, upper.
-Just the facts, Man.
-And yet we rib the shit out of each other playing softball.
No class crap here!
-None. Squat. Zip. Zilch. Zer-er-O!
-Right! Example of how things should be!
Mr Ralph leaves, and Heskey, the fresh intern, tells Max
-You're such a freakin Uncle Tom!
-Survival of the Flatter-ist.
-You gwine t’lunch? Ah be.
-Can’t eat with field hands.
-Yeah! Just with House Nig-
-You studying company handbook? If you come up
looking stupid, it’s MY ass gets burnt!
-Must you interrupt?...de-dupt, de-dupt, de-dupt?
Labels: Aunt Jemima, class, company politics, company structure, power, power relationships, Race, Uncle Tom
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
“Go to the war between the Packers and Giants,
and a game breaks out. Boring! So the kids shriek
for Corky’s Breakass Burgers from the video on all
To the concessions before halftime, and mobbed!
I fight up to about third in line and everybody leaves!--
Help too! Huge wooshing sound banging up to
They’re panicked! But still plenty of time to see the
beheading. Leading off with Bonzy and the Brooklyn
Belles, and then Cheerleader Awards.
Next, reading out the mangled legal horseshit.
And Main Event, quick.
Clean up a scosh, hoses, followed by drawing for
Yeah! My turn! I can feel it!
So if the Giants break my heart again, I won’t even
know it! Purring along the highway, refusing to
turn on the radio!”
Labels: beheading, cars, football, future, sport, war
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Sen Bought guffawed, & Sen Sold nodded.
Sen On-the-Fence took the call from the billionaire.
“Randy” he reminded. Code for cash.
Labels: bribery, business as usual, cash, senate
Monday, September 15, 2014
The Right Topics
A quite small conference center, and new, in
a medium Texas city. Opens with Future of
Freedom. Several Right Notables on tap.
The program is explicit in its topics and
their descriptions, until the item SRC.
Whatever it is, Drs Exlor and Merksy
of Stanford and Dilham Bible University,
respectively, discuss it, and take questions.
No reporters present, but a few get hold
of the program after.
A contest ensues as to the meaning of SRC.
The most ridiculous assertion, “Selling Rita’s
Cu*t,” gives the flavor of the discourse.
But all finally settle on Striking the Racial Chord.
Labels: conference, freedom, obscenity, Race, Right, Stanford
Sunday, September 14, 2014
When Vague Friends Marry
we want to throw rice afterwards. Best Man, Chubby Carker,
has been chatting with Reverend Baxmead, who pronounces
“No they haven’t left yet.”
“But the limo awaits!” Chubby adds drily, pointing.
They’re nowhere in the usual church rooms, so a search
Chubby ultimately confides to Bridesmaid, Helena
Markham Dillars O’Malley Insull, that he thinks
they vagued themselves into another dimension.
“I wish they took this shitty dress with ‘em!”
Salmon and nearly florescent.
“Yes,” he remarked sagely, “everybody has to go through
things the right way, no matter what.”
“Well that includes them two! I’m stopping. My shimmers
are bouncing off the Bible pictures on the wall, and giving
me a headache.”
“Funny how we affect the environment.”
Labels: Bible, convention, dimension, marriage, mystery, vague
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Family Gathering, Small But Desperate
-If your father starts telling those same stories of his,
I’m going to sing the loudest note I’m capable of!
-I thought those kind of tales to be essential to
community. Imprint, and all that good shit.
-Oversupply at present.
-You’ve a duty to be patient. For all humankind!
-I gotta work for a fuckin living! Weekends must let off
a thousand pounds of pressure or so.
-Oh? Are you a giver or a taker?
-A striver. And without a discernable goal. Trapped in
a maze of complete stupidity!
-Isn’t that called a rat race? Literally?
-Check my whiskers!
-I’ve got a headache.
Labels: community, desperation, Family, giver, marriage, rat race, relationship, stories, striver, taker, work
Friday, September 12, 2014
The Political Universal
Template For Both Parties
We know you’re sick of begging emails, but...
Labels: Democrat, fund raising, latest outraged appeal, Republican
Thursday, September 11, 2014
-Well you’re sent to make laws by
the party that says we have enough.
-I’ll work it out.
-You already SAY nothing beautifully. Just
a small step to DO nothing the same.
-Where’s the cash machine? I wanna
Labels: Congress, do-nothing, Do-Nothing Congress, eloquence, making laws, Republican
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, September 09, 2014
Effie pretended nothing was
different, but, truth is, she
couldn't really see their faces.
They were pixillated in life, like
some victims on TV.
She walked elsewhere in
the company to see others
with exact noses, eyes,
mouths. So, it wasn't her.
But just her boss, Rector, Sales
Manager, Mipsky, and Jill, in
charge of New Business.
Last week they had been called
into the boardroom. Thereafter,
their facial features had gradually
Now she is called in. Funny, she
has no fear, but has kept out of
the loop during the last, disastrous
It couldn’t have been a warmer
experience, and she emerges
in charge of her section.
She'd have to fire Rector. Promised to.
Indeed, the other two will shortly
follow in her plans.
They'll all receive faces back, so not
a complete tragedy.
And the new people will be well-
defined, like everything else
Labels: business, business atmosphere, face, firing, save face
Monday, September 08, 2014
Conferring on The Nation’s Business
The Congressman Listens With Gravity
-I got two talking points for your Meet the Press:
One, President too aggressive! Dangerous to
us and the whole freakin world!
Two, President a pussy! Just too timid for these
-Do I alternate them?
-Hey! When the shoe fits...?
-And when it doesn't?
-Jam it on!
Labels: bizarre politics, Congress, contradiction, insane politics, Meet the Press, paradox
Sunday, September 07, 2014
Krutz flees in the dead of night.
No one to jeer that way.
His new country, though hardly
welcoming, is at least not sarcastic.
He brought a proverb: “Pay me,
I'll work hard. More, I'll work harder.”
He prospered, since the surrounding
citizens laughed at work.
At a folk fair, he spots the embroidered
wedding caps from the old country.
Enjoys a piece of Babka, sliced by a
Not! The pastry terrible, ashes of the
dead! And the young man apologizes.
His pretty sister rearranges the wedding
caps, and Krutz does a strange thing--
for any country: He places one on her head.
He isn't kidding, but neither is she. Short story
shorter: They marry and move to a new cottage,
with a room for the brother.
The trio flourishes, the caps becoming a fad
in this new country, worn by both sexes.
Krutz quits his job to manage the firm, and
the brother becomes its traveling salesman.
Who often goes to the border region and fetches
back Babka. Like eating bricks.
Years pass, Babka-deprived, and a man tells Krutz
an uncle bakes it up in the mountains of the old
country. The deal becomes five cakes for the
price of a wedding cap. He sends the money by Paypal.
But the border guards seize all but one.
So the brother makes his way home with that.
They sit at the table afraid to slice it, that it
will prove yet another disappointment.
Never able to get another, but that one lingers
forever in memory. Indeed, they have talked of
little else over the years.
Labels: Babka, foreigners, new country
Saturday, September 06, 2014
Belle and Vickie Mid Higher Educations
-Ladies of limited experience, such as us’n,
should attend to the bull sessions in our
dorm. You slept through the last: about enumerating.
The champ stopped at 178...now doesn’t bother.
-Jesus H. Christ on a Bicycle! Wonder she
can still perambulate, the slut!
-Well, we COULD expand our horizons.
-Walk out the door and be a whore?
Labels: bull session, dorm, slut, whore, women
Friday, September 05, 2014
The Land of Class Up the Ass
should jettison the Free
and Brave shit.
O wouldn’t the Rich
be sorely miffed?
& their patriot lackeys
and bought Congress!
Labels: bribery, class, Congress, free and brave, free and brave nonsense, inequality, patriot, rich
Thursday, September 04, 2014
Divine Search Engine Etc
God has finally revealed to me that
He’s Google. “I didn’t think any
fuckin reason to keep it quiet
“God shouldn’t say fuckin.”
“Who are you to say? And it’s hardly the
first time: conduct of others being of
such great concern! I quote a nonbeliever:
Cultivate your own garden.”
I took the advice, and soon counted
a hundred offers for seeds on my tablet.
Labels: garden, God, google, nonbeliever, tablet, Voltaire
Wednesday, September 03, 2014
Fear and Melody
He was afraid of everything. The future held horrors!
The authorities knew of his type, and sought to
understand. In order to insure more producing units:
cut down on sick days.
Thus they instituted an essay with the annual tax
form. Tell us about your non-financial year.
Unfortunately, the fearful man, after writing many
cautious drafts, forgot.
He was deported.
In his new country, though despised, he fears nothing.
Lives on odd jobs and scraps of food.
He sings continuously, early folk-rock, and is laughed at
for his attempts.
Years have passed and he won’t stop smiling.
Efforts have been made to send him elsewhere, but no one
He can’t make a friend, male or female, but keeps trying.
When he gets senior, the Foreign Department softens, gives
him a vague award.
At the tiny ceremony, he thanks his old and new nations
equally. And Melody, his blind cat.
Labels: deportation, exile, fear, taxes
Tuesday, September 02, 2014
The Future of the Party
-Lessee now: We've alienated Women,
Blacks, and Hispanics. Not to mention...
-They'll do well enough for your argument.
But don't you see? It's all working! We keep
getting more and more angry white men!
-And more and more of them blow their
fuses, departing for some other political
place, like Heaven.
-Others take their place!
-Yes, but not enough in the long run.
-Why we do an About-Face! Unload ‘em
on the Dems while giving the love to
Broads n' Blacks n' Spicks n’ Pansies!
Like, Embrace the New Quartet!
-About-Face that flagrant?
-Been done many a time.
-I’m leaving politics!
Labels: About-Face, Blacks, Gays, Hispanics, New Republican Party, political switch, women
Monday, September 01, 2014
-Yeah, and every vicious Righty hater of working people
will suddenly find a union member in his brutal tribe.
“And my cousin, Hipp Eskew of Bakers’ Union Local 97,
has given many a delicious cake to all sorts of celebrations!”
-I don’t know. Look in a family you don’t know whatever
Labels: Capitalism, hatred of working people, Labor, Labor Day, Union