"idealistic fabricant theory"
Mannequins
Scare me with their shenannigans.
Department store bulbs warming their little plastic souls
--But not mine.
Someone's got to keep their head on the straight and narrow
Else they'll have their limbs carted off
In a maintenance wheelbarrow.
In full retreat from the repulsive jaws
Of a retail profit-making frenzy,
Alas, I happened upon another mannequin lair:
Grotesque figurines flaunting insidious human desires
Extending their unfriendly arms in suspicious indifference
Merely content to be puppets of ubiquitous corporate domination,
And exhibitionistic conspirators of silence
Contractually harvested for the marketing
Of social acceptance and conformity
To the weak-minded and holistically defeated
At thirty percent off the regular price.
Well, that sounds like a deal,
Faustus.
---
Famous dachshunds Schnitzel (the 2nd) and Heidi (the 4th) enjoy: Come On Pilgrim by The Pixies.
61% of Canadians think dog sledding is overrated.
10.16.2004
Feather or Not, Here It Comes!
"Never Make An Ostrich A Witness For the Defense"
When ostriches forget...
They decidedly thrust their heads 'neath the sand
Thus disregarding what has been officially declared in front of their
Very beaks
They have no time for quibbles
Such petty things do not alarm them
As if waking from a perpetual hangover
The ostrich has no memory
And could definitely not recall
Where they were at the time in question
Much less how the defendant ended up with the murder weapon.
The Superadaptive Sheep of Aruba could snuba in its midst
Yet the mighty ostrich would be at a loss for words
Those birds
Are indubitably destined for my fist
But they'll still love me tomorrow.
---
-Dr. A. Gonzo Garbonzo suggests: Radiohead - Hail To the Thief
-97% of American comedies aren't funny, as opposed to the 97% of British ones that are.
-Bands That Are Indisputably Not Punk: Blink 182, Story of the Year, Good Charlotte, Sum 41, and Simple Plan. Lots more to be added!
When ostriches forget...
They decidedly thrust their heads 'neath the sand
Thus disregarding what has been officially declared in front of their
Very beaks
They have no time for quibbles
Such petty things do not alarm them
As if waking from a perpetual hangover
The ostrich has no memory
And could definitely not recall
Where they were at the time in question
Much less how the defendant ended up with the murder weapon.
The Superadaptive Sheep of Aruba could snuba in its midst
Yet the mighty ostrich would be at a loss for words
Those birds
Are indubitably destined for my fist
But they'll still love me tomorrow.
---
-Dr. A. Gonzo Garbonzo suggests: Radiohead - Hail To the Thief
-97% of American comedies aren't funny, as opposed to the 97% of British ones that are.
-Bands That Are Indisputably Not Punk: Blink 182, Story of the Year, Good Charlotte, Sum 41, and Simple Plan. Lots more to be added!
10.04.2004
In Honor of The Purple Moose...
Loif Insurance Fun!
A Message For Men and Women Ages 65-93:
Don't think you qualify for life insurance? Listen to what Ms. Mary Murple of Englewood, New Jersey, has to say about it:
"You know, now that I'm seventy-five, I don't have many years left on this earth. I would give anything to be able to watch my grandchildren grow up, but...I try to be realistic. I may not be around for much longer. In fact, I am probably going to die soon. I have nothing to look forward to but glorious, silent death. My future is dark and cold, like the ground I'll be buried in. Before I know it, the worms and beetles will be gnawing at my toes, my flesh will be consumed by angry fleas and maggots, and I'll carry no memory of this accursed existence with me.
Even so, I'm playing it smart! With Grim Reaper Life Insurance, I pay only 2 cents a day for my policy! In return, my dependents can rely on the full tort, maximum coverage, ultimate power plan of seven dollars and thirty cents to cover expenses associated with the disposing of my anguished earthly remains before the rigor mortis and putrescence become too much to bear! They even provide a free coffin made from state-of-the-art cardboard--the same material NASA astronauts use to ship packages! I can "rest in peace" knowing that my final expenses cost my family nothing, and required very little effort on my part! Thanks, Grim Reaper!"
--
Abe Takes On The Union!
Abe's back in a dangerous game of cat and mouse, and this time, he has an insatiable craving for Wacky Mac!
Ms. Whiny Von Coward, union steward, approached Abe Lincoln's cubicle from the South, with the rest of Napoleon's troops (the ones that weren't massacred at the Battle of No-Water-In-The-Loo). "Oh, Mr. Lincoln, I left some pamphlets on your chair. I hope you've had time to read them! My name is Whiny VonCoward, and I'm the Union steward here! You should think about joining the Union!"
An eyebrow was raised somewhere in the vicinity of Abe's upper cranial area. "Join the Union?" He unleashed a chortle that would make a basenji jealous. "Join the Union?!! I OWN the Union, Miss Mallard. Now please stop bothering me with your inane peasantry babble, hmm? I have more important things to do than entertain your bothersome company."
"Um, I'm not sure I understand..." Ms. Von Chow-Chow sweated in her Pumas uncomfortably.
"Hmph." Abe snorted like the pig in Charlotte's Web right before Charlotte died. "I'm not surprised."
"I....well, anyway, the Union does many great things for the workers--"
"You're damn right it does!" Abe snarled, with his fist smashing into the nearest Confederate soldier it could find. "And all of it is thanks to ME, you hear?! TO ME!!! Now leave me alone so that I may devour this Wacky Mac in peace!"
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed from a sky blue to a burnt sienna, much like a mood ring would do if it were on the finger of a hippie going to California with an aching in her heart.
"WACKY MAC?!" John Adams exclaimed from the next paragraph.
"Did he say WACKY MAC?!" James Madison queried no one in particular.
"Stop yer yappin'! I'm tryn'a SLEEP!" no one growled in response.
"Yes!" Abe affirmed. "I have access to George Washington's secret personal stash!" He then basked in the Wacky Mac's warm noodley goodness.
"Oh, Abe!! Please, may I have some of the wacky mac?!" John Adams begged like a character ripped from a Charles Dickens novel.
"Shove off!" Abe yelled, top hat all askew. Then he turned to his bowl and grabbed a spoonful of splenda to make his medicine go down. "Oh, how this Wacky Mac dances on my palate like mexican jumping beans foraging through winter snows I oft' endured at my luxurious log cabin!"
Coughing ensued from Ms. Von Chowder's rude mouth piece.
"Oh, delightful. You're still here," Abe grumbled as he noticed Ms. Van Halen-o-ween standing across the room in the next building over. "My, you're quite insistent. If you weren't so bloody stupid, you might even not remind me of you, being myself." He paused for dramatics (and to blow his nose). "So, what were you babbling about?"
"Well," Ms. Gun Powder began again (and again), "I was saying how wonderful the Union is--"
"Yes, yes, I am fully aware of how amazing a job I've been doing, but it's no good being all sycophantic about it," Abe yawned. "For even when I wake up on-the-morrow, I will still detest you mightily. Now, what is it that you do?"
"Well," Ms. Von Klown muttered like a vater (chur-man choke), "I call meetings and--"
"OH!" Abe interrupted, "So you're one of those Continental Congressmen! I should have known by the terrible wig you're wearing! Don't you realize that the quarter-inch rear pigtail twist is out of fashion?"
"Um.." Ms. Def Con Five was completely defeated and simply crawled away on all fours. John Adams saw his chance. He leaped for the unguarded bowl of Wacky Mac sitting on Abe's desk. Success! If only the same could be said for this story.
---
In the CD player now: Fugazi's 13 Songs
Most Annoying Song of the Day: Crimson and Clover by Tommy James and the Shondells
Most Annoying Song of Yestersnow: Crystal Blue Persuasion by Tommy James and the Shondells
Most Annoying Song of Last Month: Anything by Tommy James and the Shondells
103% of poodles are ugly.
A Message For Men and Women Ages 65-93:
Don't think you qualify for life insurance? Listen to what Ms. Mary Murple of Englewood, New Jersey, has to say about it:
"You know, now that I'm seventy-five, I don't have many years left on this earth. I would give anything to be able to watch my grandchildren grow up, but...I try to be realistic. I may not be around for much longer. In fact, I am probably going to die soon. I have nothing to look forward to but glorious, silent death. My future is dark and cold, like the ground I'll be buried in. Before I know it, the worms and beetles will be gnawing at my toes, my flesh will be consumed by angry fleas and maggots, and I'll carry no memory of this accursed existence with me.
Even so, I'm playing it smart! With Grim Reaper Life Insurance, I pay only 2 cents a day for my policy! In return, my dependents can rely on the full tort, maximum coverage, ultimate power plan of seven dollars and thirty cents to cover expenses associated with the disposing of my anguished earthly remains before the rigor mortis and putrescence become too much to bear! They even provide a free coffin made from state-of-the-art cardboard--the same material NASA astronauts use to ship packages! I can "rest in peace" knowing that my final expenses cost my family nothing, and required very little effort on my part! Thanks, Grim Reaper!"
--
Abe Takes On The Union!
Abe's back in a dangerous game of cat and mouse, and this time, he has an insatiable craving for Wacky Mac!
Ms. Whiny Von Coward, union steward, approached Abe Lincoln's cubicle from the South, with the rest of Napoleon's troops (the ones that weren't massacred at the Battle of No-Water-In-The-Loo). "Oh, Mr. Lincoln, I left some pamphlets on your chair. I hope you've had time to read them! My name is Whiny VonCoward, and I'm the Union steward here! You should think about joining the Union!"
An eyebrow was raised somewhere in the vicinity of Abe's upper cranial area. "Join the Union?" He unleashed a chortle that would make a basenji jealous. "Join the Union?!! I OWN the Union, Miss Mallard. Now please stop bothering me with your inane peasantry babble, hmm? I have more important things to do than entertain your bothersome company."
"Um, I'm not sure I understand..." Ms. Von Chow-Chow sweated in her Pumas uncomfortably.
"Hmph." Abe snorted like the pig in Charlotte's Web right before Charlotte died. "I'm not surprised."
"I....well, anyway, the Union does many great things for the workers--"
"You're damn right it does!" Abe snarled, with his fist smashing into the nearest Confederate soldier it could find. "And all of it is thanks to ME, you hear?! TO ME!!! Now leave me alone so that I may devour this Wacky Mac in peace!"
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed from a sky blue to a burnt sienna, much like a mood ring would do if it were on the finger of a hippie going to California with an aching in her heart.
"WACKY MAC?!" John Adams exclaimed from the next paragraph.
"Did he say WACKY MAC?!" James Madison queried no one in particular.
"Stop yer yappin'! I'm tryn'a SLEEP!" no one growled in response.
"Yes!" Abe affirmed. "I have access to George Washington's secret personal stash!" He then basked in the Wacky Mac's warm noodley goodness.
"Oh, Abe!! Please, may I have some of the wacky mac?!" John Adams begged like a character ripped from a Charles Dickens novel.
"Shove off!" Abe yelled, top hat all askew. Then he turned to his bowl and grabbed a spoonful of splenda to make his medicine go down. "Oh, how this Wacky Mac dances on my palate like mexican jumping beans foraging through winter snows I oft' endured at my luxurious log cabin!"
Coughing ensued from Ms. Von Chowder's rude mouth piece.
"Oh, delightful. You're still here," Abe grumbled as he noticed Ms. Van Halen-o-ween standing across the room in the next building over. "My, you're quite insistent. If you weren't so bloody stupid, you might even not remind me of you, being myself." He paused for dramatics (and to blow his nose). "So, what were you babbling about?"
"Well," Ms. Gun Powder began again (and again), "I was saying how wonderful the Union is--"
"Yes, yes, I am fully aware of how amazing a job I've been doing, but it's no good being all sycophantic about it," Abe yawned. "For even when I wake up on-the-morrow, I will still detest you mightily. Now, what is it that you do?"
"Well," Ms. Von Klown muttered like a vater (chur-man choke), "I call meetings and--"
"OH!" Abe interrupted, "So you're one of those Continental Congressmen! I should have known by the terrible wig you're wearing! Don't you realize that the quarter-inch rear pigtail twist is out of fashion?"
"Um.." Ms. Def Con Five was completely defeated and simply crawled away on all fours. John Adams saw his chance. He leaped for the unguarded bowl of Wacky Mac sitting on Abe's desk. Success! If only the same could be said for this story.
---
In the CD player now: Fugazi's 13 Songs
Most Annoying Song of the Day: Crimson and Clover by Tommy James and the Shondells
Most Annoying Song of Yestersnow: Crystal Blue Persuasion by Tommy James and the Shondells
Most Annoying Song of Last Month: Anything by Tommy James and the Shondells
103% of poodles are ugly.
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