Cowboy Riding an Ostrich

I Am Made of Awesome

Fri, 27 Nov 2009 04:01:51 GMT

I sat next to Carla for Thanksgiving dinner.
I passed her the salt,
I stabbed her some dark meat.

27 November, 2008

Upon Near Finishing The Fountainhead

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 16:45:57 GMT

Attention Ayn Rand and her followers:
Life is not a game of "Fuck Your Buddy".

Heard on Lawrence Welk (I swear to God)

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 15:30:04 GMT

Can I hold you closer to me
And not feel you going through me?

Edit: And here it is

Cultural Insensitivity

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 19:25:08 GMT

Paul Haggis: The Scientologists didn't want this one.

Triple Lutz

Sun, 25 Oct 2009 20:29:32 GMT

NBC is showing Hallowe'en themed figure skating which is creepier than Hallowe'en themed ANYTHING ELSE.

Because I'm mean:

Revised Chorus for Czolgosz/Goldman song

Sun, 25 Oct 2009 01:16:16 GMT

If you'll be Emma, I'll be Leon
Raise my ire, raise your fist
Oh! Strike me down; I'll be on
that like a hankie round a pistol.

The Nicest Thing Ever Said About Manton

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 02:56:17 GMT

The only library in Northern Michigan that has Mackenzie Phillips' book is Manton's and there is no joke there.

You're High!/You're Drunk!

Sat, 17 Oct 2009 03:53:19 GMT

[placeholder for a piece about Dave Levey, the winner of the latest season of Hell's Kitchen, and his broken wrist as a metaphor for the inspired, willful direction our country ought to be taking]

MoQ 5: "Took-me-out" Criticism

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 15:32:01 GMT

In the poetry workshop classes I've taken, there was a common expression used whenever a poem expressed its mechanics too fully, or any other vague offense it had committed. The offended would claim that he or she had been taken out of the (reality? of the) poem. No further explanation needed, no further help provided.
Poetry is not creative non-fiction, it is free to expose how it works (in fact, this should be encouraged), poetry is allowed to implode on its own irony. Poetry is not Show Choir.
It is rather jejune of anyone to think otherwise.
One moment of hypocrisy: I honestly believe that only left-aligned poetry is capable of having pleasing qualities.

Observation

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 02:29:33 GMT

Ken Burns' The National Parks: America's Best Idea probably condemns capitalism more deeply than Michael Moore's new movie. You must watch it.

The United States shall e'er be competitive in Sci(l)ence

Tue, 22 Sep 2009 22:15:02 GMT

Kirk Cameron wants to molest your children ~~intellectually~~ spiritually.

Please review Matthew 6:5.

Most Inflammatory Sentence, Ever

Sat, 19 Sep 2009 21:14:20 GMT

Perhaps the people who desire to find a comparison between President Barack Obama and Adolph Hitler are less upset by the mass murder he committed and more upset by the meticulous records he kept of it, (or they just have no idea what either fascism or socialism are).

Verse for "If You'll Be Emma, I'll Be Leon"

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 19:55:25 GMT

If you dropped your hankie,
I'll wrap it round my pistol
Like myself around your pinky
Or my lips upon your fist, oh.

Showing his hand (All. Reds.) Images from the Pete Hoekstra Town Hall

Sat, 12 Sep 2009 15:58:12 GMT

The "wrap-it-up" signal he gave to the health care professional who was trying to relate the rigamarole involved in supplying teenagers with mental health aid, including several disheartening phone calls to Florida, while standing next to the "Obamacare flowchart".

The look on Danielle's face when the woman asked about health care for illegals as she waited for an opportunity to take the microphone away.

The derisive "That fag" laugh from the audience at the mention of Representative Barney Frank.

The "you-got-me...CASH?!?" look on my face when Pete was describing how privatized health care can be subsidized by revenue obtained by lowering taxes...?

Put down "The Fountainhead" and join the real world, please.

Tue, 01 Sep 2009 14:15:58 GMT

Perhaps to satisfy the (so-called modern day) Libertarians, a "chump don't want the help, chump don't get the help" clause should be added to the Health Care Reform Plan with a subclause "jive ass dude ain't got no brains anyhow."

(Young American) Pogrom

Wed, 12 Aug 2009 20:45:33 GMT

She glides in just astride the ledge
and he talks her down; he frowns,
"Gee, my life's a runny thing,
are we still too young?"

He wished her then and there
took her sting, took her rabies,
Took her minutes, took him nowhere
Leaven rows when she spake and everything but

Chorus:
All night she haunts the young American
Young American, young American,
she haunts the young American
All right she gaunts the young American

Spamming strife through the lecher windows
she binds a thinking vagabond,
Appalled as she gasses her Ford Mustang
Heaven for bid, and she'll take anything

"He's a freak and his type: all for something."
He misses a step and shows his hand
Cutting bluffing we whoop with a song
She cries, "Where have all Poppa's heroes gone?"

Chorus

All the way from Washington
Our bread-winner begs on the Town Hall floor
"We give for just these fifty years
Do we have to lie for twenty more?"

Chorus

Do you remember you President mixin'?
Do you remember the pills you have to tray
Or even yesterday?

Have we all been un-American?
Just you as you're idle singing falsetto 'bout
Whether, ever, anywhere or
every myth cleft of a ghetto.

Well, hell, well would you carry a taser
You know in case, just in case of suppression
Get up your hands with a bus of purveyors
gushing at all the appro-seaters.

Ain't too close to shove.
Ain't that poseur love?
It ain't that harpie-doll.
Her art's been stokin' just like you have.

Chorus

You got a limp but you got a Chysler
You ain't a lady but sure are a hustler
Lacks got respect and blights got bellow taint
Obama's got hamps but look at your tan saint

I heard the news today, oh boy
You got defeat and you got a suite
Ain't there a plan that can do some more?
Ain't there a woman I won't sock on the jaw?

Ain't there a child who can scold without judging?
Ain't there a pen that will write before we die?
We ain't proud even when we have faces
Ain't there one damn song that will help me take down the lie?

Chorus

Image for Bidet

Fri, 31 Jul 2009 13:07:37 GMT

Ann Curry doing her white-lady-slow-jam to Kings of Leon

Two questions (I meant to post Monday)

Thu, 30 Jul 2009 19:49:03 GMT

1. Iraqi-American educational exchange, who gets the better end of that deal?

(We do.)

2. Birthers, who would you rather have run for president in 2012, Arnold Schwarzenegger of Peter Hoekstra?

Thing I said to my brother

Wed, 22 Jul 2009 13:50:41 GMT

There's a line between ironic enjoyment and cynical perversion, and [your occasional mock obsession with The Breakfast Club] crosses it.

As All Stars Do

Fri, 17 Jul 2009 03:29:37 GMT

We proceed cautiously, faltering ever
so slightly at first, yet proudly

reaching the target. That's proof that gleams—
and I look fucking cute in this jacket;

let us go then, me and you,
Where the ferrous curvature dares delight the view.

Response to the Man with the peach colored tie and creepy smile

Sun, 12 Jul 2009 13:40:08 GMT

(Comme "health of the mother") Ben and Jerry's
is technically a "small business".
You and I both know they have to pay their taxes.

and

I refuse to believe that you don't believe
your choice of the woman who dropped the basketball
and saved a turkey wasn't the biggest mistake
of your life.

This Week in Honesty

Tue, 30 Jun 2009 14:42:33 GMT

Al Roker called the preempting of the fourth hour of the Today (bidet) show by Wimbledon coverage a "win-win."

New Mixology 1

Tue, 26 May 2009 16:13:11 GMT

Sniper's Delight

1 part gin (pref. Seagram's Extra Dry)
1 part Irn-Bru (or Mountain Dew)

Chill if desired, DO NOT SHAKE, serve in a shot glass (or glass jar)

Because the correct lyrics aren't posted anywhere

Fri, 15 May 2009 04:15:50 GMT

Broken Window

Deep in the past, far in the future time.
Deep in the past, far in the future time.
Just 'cause no one saw you, that don't mean it ain't a crime.

They say they know me but they only know my name.
They say they know me but they only know my name.
They're through asking me questions, I ain't gonna learn to sing.

If they want it they can take it, they don't need no reason why.
If they want it they can take it, they don't need no reason why.
The night they took you from me I saw the broken window and I cried, cried, cried, cried, cried...

They bound my eyes and they bound my hands.
They bound my eyes and they bound my hands.
Where they're gonna take me now? No one understands.

They say they know me but they only know my name.
They say they know me but they only know my name.
They're through asking me questions, I ain't gonna learn to sing.

Lay their hands upon me now, this midnight blue.
Lay their hands upon me now, this midnight blue
They didn't know me and they didn't know you. No, no

But now they do since the night in the dark when they came for you.

I gained the world but I lost your trust.
I gained the world but I lost your trust.
They throw their money at you, it ain't easy to adjust.

Come out, and put your hands on your head.
I said come out, and put your hands on your head.
Come and join the rest of us, we are already dead.

They want it they can take it, they don't need no reason why.
They want it they can take it, they don't need no reason why.
The night they took you from me I saw the broken window and I cried, cried, cried, cried, cried...

Woe unto them if they touch a hair on your head.
Woe unto them if they touch a hair on your head.
They're gonna join the rest of us, we are already dead

They won the battle, but the war is through.
They won the battle, but the war is through.
They didn't know me and they didn't know you. No, no

But now they do since the night in the dark when they came for you,
you, you, you, you, you, oh you, oh you, you, you.

Socialize the Losses; or Free, Base Scene H

Tue, 12 May 2009 19:44:32 GMT

Shot or Get off the Pit

A bar, Karaoke area upstage. Toby Keith (any song, or an imitation) quietly churns and hisses at us through speakers that seem to only have tweeters. FINN is at the bar, JENN is standing by the toilets on a cell phone.

JENN

(too controlled, too articulate)

You are in what, Judd?...

Why, ever, would you punch him?...

I see.

This isn't good for the image, Judd...

She walks back to the bar.

JENN

Well, I think you should just stay there for the night; we'll think of something to do...

Would you like to speak with your brother?...

She gives Finn the phone. His face goes from general pleasantness to disbelief to concern. He closes the phone and gives it back to the Mayor.

FINN

Your husband is very mad at me

and I think I know why.

JENN

Why would Judd be mad at you?

FINN

I know about Perdita Basser,

and I'm pretty sure you know too.

JENN

And I know you're too kind to let that hurt me or Judd.

She takes his hand and puts his head on her shoulder. He kisses her and immediately breaks away; some spastic apologies. Music fades out.

JENN FINN

Oh, Christmas on a Cracker!— Oh my God, I'm so sorry!—It's just—

No, don't, it's alright. you look like he did without the...

He points to his face.

FINN

Oh. It's my turn.

Finn on Karaoke: “When It's Springtime in Alaska (It's Forty Below)” with air guitar solo. Jenn examines herself with a spoon.

JENN

Oh.

I do, don't I?

The song ends, Finn returns.

JENN

Ugh! I can't see myself as a woman, now!

She throws away the spoon.

FINN

(smiling)

The better to fill you with cruelty.

JENN

Well, I could say the same to you.

A beat.

FINN

(trying and failing to hide an emotional breakdown)

This can only end horribly.

JENN

Don't say that.

We are all capable of being saved.

We can all be kind, we can all be fond.

FINN

(smiling, wondering)

...How?

Jenn stands, offering her hand.

JENN

...If you can't be nice, at least be vague.

A pause before Finn has an hysterical fit of laughter, falling to the floor. Jenn assists Finn, now covered in sawdust, to his feet. Exeunt, with difficulty.

Fin