Simmer on a gold top hat while I button this vestibule.
Fall down and scrape that eggshell off your face.
Well I told you raptors prefer snakes over ferrets!
Beautiful, beautiful sloth babies, where have you been hiding?
Now and forevermore shall be known as the time that a little black poodle jumped the fence and onto Mr. Jefferson’s patio.
Pink flowers line the coffin, skirts ruffle under tarred feathers. An irresistible spark lights our magnolia tree ablaze and lets the entire town go to ashes. Nobody said it was anybody’s fault, but everybody’s looking around anyway. Creaking pews, clinking glasses, crisp newspaper folding and expensive molasses. These are the signs of wealth, the bounty upon which all great men must stand if they are to become regal and noble. Regal and noble they are to become as they kick wheelchairs out of their way in favor of sports coupes and solid-gold yachts. Out to sea they’ve never been, yet they puff out their chests like old sailors. They hold the floor in the local saloons as they slander good men for no good reason. We all see this time and again, but we fail to stop them. Why? They have materials that we could possibly use when they’re done wiping their asses with gold leaf.
And for the moment I was there, carving out a little place in heaven for the one they call Christy Mathewson. No, not the pitcher, like you’d ever heard of the man. I mean the exact doppelganger who never picked up a baseball in his life. Nope, not once, if you can even believe it. What kind of red-blooded American man never indulges in his nation’s favorite pastime? This particular specimen was more intelligent than average, so his disinclination to engage in sport isn’t chalked up to a lack of wits and determination. No, this man had a keen eye for balance and a genuine panache for the written word.
And so as we enter another phase of existence, we must turn to ourselves and ask: “Why are there so many penguins on the road? I swear I didn’t see this many yesterday. Did you, Gertrude? Ah well, don’t worry about it. I’m sure they’re just on their way to some fast food restaurant to get milkshakes. I believe the average penguin prefers vanilla over chocolate, because the color is truer to the hue of their feathers. Many an argument has been made that penguins would like chocolate, but there are few penguins with such brown plumage.”
Dipsy was your run of the mill birthday party clown. He had all the usual apparel–big red nose, rainbow pants, huge shoes, the whole bit. Well, almost all of it. It was on this particular Tuesday that Dipsy would grow to wish that he could afford an automobile. It would only have had to fit him and a couple of his clown buddies (but who was he kidding, he had no friends). He didn’t understand how much he needed to shield himself from the cruel reality of no-good street thugs who could spot an easy target from a mile away. Before Dipsy even knew what had happened, his inflatable wallet and waterproof watch were gone and down the street. Dipsy was by no means a vindictive man, and assumed that these unfortunate souls needed the cash more than he did. He did acknowledge how poor he was, but he at least had a gig to make it to in… shit, he had no idea if he was on time, since they’d made off with his watch too. That made Dipsy slightly miffed, but he still didn’t press charges.
As we imagine a place understood only by a select few, this establishment meant for sordid trivialities, we languish in guilt and wonder why we deserve such a dubious honor.
But then we look at the scenario once more. Sure, we’re in rarified air, but what does that really mean? Do we need this separation from the common folk?
I mean, it’s not like this McDonald’s is anything special.
Wrap me up in a curtain and give me a lobotomy, I’m starving!
The enchilada had green stuff. I don’t know if that means vegetables were involved. It very easily could have been mold. I found it in the back of the refrigerator.
When life boils down to nothing more than pursuing livelihood for the sake of movement, an astute observer must do everything in his power not to spiral headlong into a nasty bout of depression.
The solution? I haven’t found one yet.
Time is made for those who can’t stand to live in a body without knowing what to do next.
So as a gator takes your wheels from you, don’t be meek. Stand up to the reptile and reclaim what is yours. You have no need to fear a jaw and teeth, they can do nothing but crush your bones and extinguish the life force from your body.
The two friends walked up to the club’s front door, only to find a notice that read:
Hello, would-be disco-goers. Disco Grande has had to close its doors due to a draining interest in the culture. We are sorry for the inconvenience, and would like to offer you a complimentary condom. Please take only one from the bowl, as we’re operating on the honor system.
Former Owner of Disco Grande (the #1 dance club in the tri-county area for three years straight)
May 19, 1980
Upon reading the note, both Jim and Sam were obviously crestfallen. They looked around for a bowl of condoms, but didn’t see anything even remotely resembling one. Jim turned to Sam.
“Cheap bastards ran outta condoms.”
Sam’s jaw dropped in an interesting combination of surprise and amusement. “You being serious? That note’s from 33 years ago.”
Jim was unfazed by his friend’s arithmetic. “Nice math there Sam, but where’s the bowl?”
“Who gives a shit about some bowl? Someone probably took it like 25 years ago.”
Jim’s countenance grew weary. “I guess I wasn’t the first person to think about taking it.”
So Hollywood Jim and Sparkly Sam walked back to the parking lot, empty aside from Sam’s sedan.
“What do you want to do now?” Sam asked.
“Find that bowl?”
Over the weekend, I whacked the weeds that had grown between the paver stones. These were the toughest weeds in the entire yard, and I felt terrible about beheading them. They didn’t do anything to me, aside from grow in an unfortunate space.
When I was finished, I began to sweep up the aftermath and saw an inch-long beetle lying on its back, dead. What attracted my attention to the insect was the pair of shiny flies checking out the scene of the crime. I had to look away, as large bugs (let alone dead ones) unnerve me.
I kept at the task of sweeping and threw away the yard waste. I went back over to the beetle to find ants walking all around it. It was at that precise moment that I thought to myself:
“These flies and ants must be confused about how such an enormous insect could meet such a sudden and violent end. This was an armored and seemingly-indestructible behemoth that had just walked among them a few minutes ago. Do they understand that there are greater forces around them that make their lives seem insignificant?”
Then I compared the insects to humans, and my brain nearly exploded.
Her woeful wiles fell short, well well.
Considering the impish nature
taken by a broad swath
of otherwise integral humans,
I would go as far as to say
that our consciousness guides us
to the clock of chance that spins
under porridge bowls
while Goldilocks tests her meal.
Translation: Her attempt at seduction with a pitiful approach blew up in her face. Well well. Considering that a lot of good people do a lot of crappy stuff, I would say that we need to take our own risks.
Tugboat Annie never left the dock that day.
It wasn’t the weather,
wasn’t the guns,
wasn’t the tightness of the women’s jeans.
No. It was that punching notion of a place
unrestricted by law and by God,
open and bare, a glassy existence.
Translation: The tugboat did not leave the dock for the usual reasons (weather, violence, sex). No. It was actually just overwhelming to be in the ocean.
For what you would say is your livelihood, you seem to be pretty dead. Maybe take up a hobby or two? I’m just a backseat critic, I can’t be bothered with no nonsense, mister. Do I make myself clear? I certainly would hope so, for your sake.
Well. What a lovely surprise tonight, Percy. You didn’t think I’d notice the polish on the floor, but you were wrong. Oh Percy, what a lovely polish. Now if only you would use the same stuff on my leather shoes. Ha. Ha ha. Ha.
And as far as that’s concerned, we need an intervention. Marge, lovely Margerie, you have been a staple of our museum for seven years. It’s time that we fix that issue you’ve been having. We’ve all known it. You’ve been practically crying out for help. And before you say anything, we want you to meet your new therapist from the Orphonoxy Clinic in East Franklin.
And ya say everything is just so groovy, but ya really have to stop and think. You know, nothin’s worse than havin’ a baby in your eye. And if someone tells ya otherwise, they’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’. But that’s just one priest’s opinion.
Glastonbury, you say? Well, I just hope your mother has the kind of courage to sit upon a hen. What kind of hen, you say? Well, if you don’t know the proper mothersitting etiquette necessary for a hen-squattage, then I’d say you are a part of the problem in the world at large today.