"Loneliness Measured in Meters"
french onion soup
and where the hoof am I?
I murmur to myself
dirty children dead and staring
spilling dirt on my red herring
get away from my table!
this is no time to solicit feelings
you need a permit for that, my son
and I don't get emotional until the dessert comes.
halfway through the second course
I feel the stinging remorse of knowing
what I had consumed was entombed in my
belly
as red and sticky as measled jelly
washing it down with whiskey
and rummy-chum
happy blood trails to you!
they just follow the stench
of disdainfully smoking solder
malevolent meat in the murky moose milk
swimming in their acidic pools of regurgitation
a lumpy delight for the lower intestine
glancing,
THEIR EYE SOCKETS FILLED WITH HATRED
continuing to the plate of biscuits,
FRIGID SILENCE, REMAINING TEETH CLENCHED AND GRINDING,
applying liberal masses of bovine butter,
delighting in the oiled frenzy of juices
lips smacking in udder glutenous satisfaction.
ignorance beats acceptance hands and hooves down!
red card for the insanity plea, however.
deep and soulful sigh emitted, slightly arched lumbar
attuned
to the cushion thrust into its sulking mouth
and his
Washing away their presence with a few
(stiff drinks would be distasteful)...
stiff drinks
He seldom sees them anymore. Only when he anticipates ordering the stroganoff. It sounds Russian, doesn't it?
---
33% of Americans feel like Chicken Tonight.
9.22.2004
9.21.2004
"Nobody Likes a Fat Guy" and Other Highly Offensive Musings!
"Lipid Extrapolation!"
Why do burgers make me fat?
How was I to know that
Consuming these cantankerous feats of meat
Would only heat my blood pressure to boiling
Now soiling my perfect health
My heart's on a shelf.
The mortician stands guard
As they present my legacy of lard.
---
Abe Lincoln, the Lovable Caseworker
(a parody in one-hoof of an act)
Enter: Proud Mother
Enter: Disgruntled Deceased Ex-President
Muthaaaa: "Mistah Lincoln, ahm hungry! I gots to feed mah FAM'LY!" (She food stamped her hoof.)
Abe munched on his tasty cigar. "Well, Ms. Dingaling, why don't you just eat your children? You have twelve of them, and with some preparation and deep freezing, that could definitely get you through the winter months! No one would miss them. At least, I wouldn't, and I'm all I care about. Anyway, you're only 21, so you could (God help us) pump out a few more kittens!"
Ms. Ding-ding-ding-ding was losing interest (and pints of blood) quickly. "Mistah Lincoln! Ah need muh CHECK! How else is I gonna get me some new SHOES?!" She knelt down and caressed her pet goat, Billy, who insisted on accompanying her to the interrogation.
"Why don't you try working?" Abe shot at her like a bullet would do if it entered someone's skull whilst they were watching a play at Ford Theatre. He was sure he had her this time, and he secretly snorted at his genuine ingenuity.
Luckily, Ms. Dong-Ding Tooralooraloo Duffel Bag could not access any words in the previous paragraph that weren't in quotations, so she missed Abe's smarmy incantations. She continued: "I can't! I's disabled, see, on account of my mental health!"
Abe nodded in agreement. "Oh, I can definitely understand that!"
"So you's gonna help me out?"
"Now, let's not get too excited, here, Ms. Dingalingadingdong. I merely agreed with your psychological evaluation. Being insane does not a welfare recipient make, comprende?"
"Huh?"
"My top hat says that you're too much of a liability to even be alive. I'm afraid we're going to have to shoot you to put myself out of your misery."
"Oh no!!!" here she wailed like whale.
"And your goat, too, I'm afraid."
"Oh, mercy!" she croaked like a frog.
"Ha, ha!" Abe squealed with delight. "I'm just kidding, Ms. Dinghy-Thingy!" Abe continued, and he promptly slapped his knees (all four of them). "I would never think of hurting another human being, unless of course, it happens to be John Adams, and that's only because he owes me twenty Confederate Dollars!"
"You's crazy, Mistah Lincoln! I ain't comin' here again!! Come on, Billy!" Ms. Doris-Dee-Duffield-Dong led her goat out of Abe's Tavern of Government Hand-Outs. Abe looked at himself in the Strawberry Shortcake mirror he had placed by his table for such occasions as this. "Watch out, David Hasselhoof. This player's on FIRE like a Lifetime movie about a woman who can't control her gambling urges! My Gourd, I'm hot!"
And with that, the story cease-fired!
-----
It has been proven that 100% of Cheerleaders serve absolutely no purpose whatsoever.
Tofu Pups are evil.
People worry too much about being socially acceptable. That's why 98.6% of people are bona fide fakes.
Most people do not understand what the word "irony" actually means. Isn't that ironic?
---
"This is Sequoia! She was held back! She can do a split!"
-Exit 57
Why do burgers make me fat?
How was I to know that
Consuming these cantankerous feats of meat
Would only heat my blood pressure to boiling
Now soiling my perfect health
My heart's on a shelf.
The mortician stands guard
As they present my legacy of lard.
---
Abe Lincoln, the Lovable Caseworker
(a parody in one-hoof of an act)
Enter: Proud Mother
Enter: Disgruntled Deceased Ex-President
Muthaaaa: "Mistah Lincoln, ahm hungry! I gots to feed mah FAM'LY!" (She food stamped her hoof.)
Abe munched on his tasty cigar. "Well, Ms. Dingaling, why don't you just eat your children? You have twelve of them, and with some preparation and deep freezing, that could definitely get you through the winter months! No one would miss them. At least, I wouldn't, and I'm all I care about. Anyway, you're only 21, so you could (God help us) pump out a few more kittens!"
Ms. Ding-ding-ding-ding was losing interest (and pints of blood) quickly. "Mistah Lincoln! Ah need muh CHECK! How else is I gonna get me some new SHOES?!" She knelt down and caressed her pet goat, Billy, who insisted on accompanying her to the interrogation.
"Why don't you try working?" Abe shot at her like a bullet would do if it entered someone's skull whilst they were watching a play at Ford Theatre. He was sure he had her this time, and he secretly snorted at his genuine ingenuity.
Luckily, Ms. Dong-Ding Tooralooraloo Duffel Bag could not access any words in the previous paragraph that weren't in quotations, so she missed Abe's smarmy incantations. She continued: "I can't! I's disabled, see, on account of my mental health!"
Abe nodded in agreement. "Oh, I can definitely understand that!"
"So you's gonna help me out?"
"Now, let's not get too excited, here, Ms. Dingalingadingdong. I merely agreed with your psychological evaluation. Being insane does not a welfare recipient make, comprende?"
"Huh?"
"My top hat says that you're too much of a liability to even be alive. I'm afraid we're going to have to shoot you to put myself out of your misery."
"Oh no!!!" here she wailed like whale.
"And your goat, too, I'm afraid."
"Oh, mercy!" she croaked like a frog.
"Ha, ha!" Abe squealed with delight. "I'm just kidding, Ms. Dinghy-Thingy!" Abe continued, and he promptly slapped his knees (all four of them). "I would never think of hurting another human being, unless of course, it happens to be John Adams, and that's only because he owes me twenty Confederate Dollars!"
"You's crazy, Mistah Lincoln! I ain't comin' here again!! Come on, Billy!" Ms. Doris-Dee-Duffield-Dong led her goat out of Abe's Tavern of Government Hand-Outs. Abe looked at himself in the Strawberry Shortcake mirror he had placed by his table for such occasions as this. "Watch out, David Hasselhoof. This player's on FIRE like a Lifetime movie about a woman who can't control her gambling urges! My Gourd, I'm hot!"
And with that, the story cease-fired!
-----
It has been proven that 100% of Cheerleaders serve absolutely no purpose whatsoever.
Tofu Pups are evil.
People worry too much about being socially acceptable. That's why 98.6% of people are bona fide fakes.
Most people do not understand what the word "irony" actually means. Isn't that ironic?
---
"This is Sequoia! She was held back! She can do a split!"
-Exit 57
9.09.2004
A Day No Mouse Would Survive!
"Upon Finding a Furry Creature In My Garbage Can"
The use of the word "vermin" doesn't begin to encompass:
thorough rage
blood pressure?
Librarians don't have it
caffeine intake
Overdue medication
A slow mental splinter extraction
"Soft, fluffy rodent creatures with gnashing teeth" is much more apt.
--
Confusion of the Kilt
and other tapestry massacres
Robert T. Bruce and his fur coat had arrived at the Bruce Family Castle (unlike the Swiss family Robinson, who hadn't, and indeed, weren't, and furthermore, were Norwegian). Pablo Peculiar brought up the rear (and thorax).
"Oh! My stomach is exhuding a mighty growl!" exclaimed Robert T. Bruce as he gazed upon the castle like a gazelle.
"Or that could be the giant leopard behind you, my lord," Pablo sighed. Indeed, a giant caribou WAS behind them. Robert T. Bruce emitted a girly scream. "Gasp!" he cried (quite literally). "Wherever shall we turn?! I want to live, to LIVE!!!" Then he slid down a nearby cactus and collapsed into a fit of cowardice. "The wooly mammoth has taken its leave of us, Sir Bruce," Pablo mumbled a few seconds later. Robert T. Bruce jumped to his feet and ankles and proclaimed victory. "Thank goodness I kept my cool, or we would've been horse food for sure, my faithful Pablo!" Pablo merely raised his eyebrows (thus spraining his face muscles). The clown car was on its way...
---
Think of a number between one and ten. Got it? Now remember that number, and never ever tell anyone about it. Presto!
The use of the word "vermin" doesn't begin to encompass:
thorough rage
blood pressure?
Librarians don't have it
caffeine intake
Overdue medication
A slow mental splinter extraction
"Soft, fluffy rodent creatures with gnashing teeth" is much more apt.
--
Confusion of the Kilt
and other tapestry massacres
Robert T. Bruce and his fur coat had arrived at the Bruce Family Castle (unlike the Swiss family Robinson, who hadn't, and indeed, weren't, and furthermore, were Norwegian). Pablo Peculiar brought up the rear (and thorax).
"Oh! My stomach is exhuding a mighty growl!" exclaimed Robert T. Bruce as he gazed upon the castle like a gazelle.
"Or that could be the giant leopard behind you, my lord," Pablo sighed. Indeed, a giant caribou WAS behind them. Robert T. Bruce emitted a girly scream. "Gasp!" he cried (quite literally). "Wherever shall we turn?! I want to live, to LIVE!!!" Then he slid down a nearby cactus and collapsed into a fit of cowardice. "The wooly mammoth has taken its leave of us, Sir Bruce," Pablo mumbled a few seconds later. Robert T. Bruce jumped to his feet and ankles and proclaimed victory. "Thank goodness I kept my cool, or we would've been horse food for sure, my faithful Pablo!" Pablo merely raised his eyebrows (thus spraining his face muscles). The clown car was on its way...
---
Think of a number between one and ten. Got it? Now remember that number, and never ever tell anyone about it. Presto!
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