Freakin' weirdoes

Have you ever noticed that there are some freakin' weirdos out there in the world? 

Like get this. 

I made friends with a small cloud recently. 

Named Cotton.

Which is a super cute name for a cloud. 

Awwww. 

I carried him around on a string like a balloon. 

We were best pals. 

Except at night. 

When I wanted to go to the pub. 

Cotton doesn't like pubs you see. 

Cause as he says...

'Girls pinch my ass, the ciders are too expensive, and the hand dryers in the bathroom often blow too hard and I get blown under the cubicle doors which I can't open cause I have no hands'.

So I'd tie him to a pole outside. 

I'd have my fun.

He'd flirt with girls on the way in and out. 

Then we'd get the bus home together. 

Unless Cotton forgot his half price for being a cloud card and then it'd be about the same price to get a cab. 

It worked out great. 

Until yesterday...

When I came out and he'd been STOLEN!'

I called the cops.

I said...

'Help, help, my clouds been stolen!'

And they said...

Get this... 

'You can't own a cloud!' 

'But he was my friend' I replied, crying.

But they didn't want to talk to me.

Well you know what you also can't own a teenage girl, but you call up the cops and say...

'Help help, I had my teenage girl tied up outside the pub, and someone stole her'!

Then the cops DEFINITELY want to talk to you. 

But to me for my cloud. 

What's wrong with these cops? Total freakin' weirdoes. 

Very Revealing

I shall now write a poem, nothing special, just whatever comes out of me...

The truth was revealed.

Oh holy hell. 

Wow!

So now what? 

The end 

Oh great, nothing special? Bullshit - I did it, I wrote a poem that's only four lines, and yet that flawlessly sums up the entire nature of melancholy that flows through a society consistently harpooned by an endless desire for swift results and immediate answers, without taking the time to worry or even ponder what to do next, leaving scores of people lost and disenchanted, and frankly looking totally foolish! 

And I achieved this with no need for greater explanation about what the poem was about. I felt no need to reveal anything that wasn't clear in the immediate lyricism, oh holy crap, I didn't think I'd achieve such greatness till at the earliest in my fifties, wow, but what do I do now?

Wait? Ah man, someone should fucking warn people against doing that!

Enthusiastic about Amazing

And now a conversation with a person who is very enthusiastic about using the word 'amazing'.

Hi

Hi, thanks for having me here this is amazing.

Ha, you said it already that's so cool.

Said what? 

Amazing.

Oh so that's all you care about, amazing, you think you meet someone that doesn't focus on the superficial stuff, but then amazingly I'm wrong again, you make me sick. 

You said it two more times! I love it.

You know I'm a person right? It might amaze you to know this but there is more to me than the word 'amazing', I'm also a professional graphic designer, I'm an enthusiastic paddle-boarder, I'm amazing at almost all board-games, in fact I thought that's why you'd invited me over, to play a game of 'Amazing' the new board game where you take amazing true facts and then share them with amazing new friends. 

Wow, I'm giddy, you keep saying it, you truly deliver what you promise. 

I'm extremely well travelled, I'm an amazing cook, I have an amazing sense of direction, amazingly I never get lost ever, I speak three languages and you might be amazed to hear none of them are French or Spanish, I own a small company that makes amazing and unique pillow cases, which I amazingly design myself, I am an amazing conversationalist, you'd be amazed at how many topics I can have deep and intellectual discussions on, I have amazing friends and colleagues, amazingly I'm

single, but amazing men ask me out regularly, I'm amazingly well read, I have an amazing skill where name a word and I can instantly tell you how many letters is in it, I was once given a years worth of free guacamole at my local burrito place for amazingly being their ten thousandth customer, you'd be amazed how many things there are interesting about me, I'm not just the word 'amazing'. 

SIXTEEN! Sixteen times in one long soliloquy, I love it, I've never been happier, this is the best day ever. 

(Shakes head) amazing. You know what? Fuck off! (Storms out). 

Well, how good was that, right? So fascinating, she just loves that word. Man, I'm jealous, I wish I had just one weird unique thing about me as fascinating as that, that everyone thought was cool about me, maybe then less people would tell me to fuck off? I might go with - guy who's really good at listening - I think I could be good at that.   

A Credible Calamitist

‘Oh that’s right, there’s a calamity in distance’ Karl was tersely reminded.

Karl was a calamity enthusiast. He hoped to be the world’s foremost calamity expert one day. But he found himself occasionally forgetting cradles and avenues of calamity and it had begun to deeply frustrate him.

He’d even forgotten the calamity in multiple opportunities once.

‘Like seriously, you end up having to say “no” to one or more of them, it’s kind of freaking obvious’ I reminded him when he brought it up from time to time.

‘But when you’re focusing your entire life on “calamity” then “opportunity” just drops off the radar occasionally’ he argued, attempting to defend his pathetic mistake, and mend any credibility he still held.

‘Do you think the world’s foremost explorer ever lets “home” slip from radar? Do you think that the Lord of Darkness will ever let “The Sun” completely escape his mind? Do you think the world’s foremost shoelace expert goes one fucking day not remembering the horrific threat that is “Velcro”? I’d point out, calmly.

‘Well you know what, the world’s foremost explorer is now long dead, the lord of darkness will far outlive something as temperamental as The Sun, and frankly Velcro may well be superior to shoelaces to be frank, and frankly the world’s foremost shoelace expert may be holding us all back with this relentless shoelace dedication’ he’d declare, from no where.

‘Can Velcro be interchanged with a variety of colors with also the possibility of a moderate level of style alteration with merely 10-20 minutes of finicky work depending on the shoe???’ I’d retort ‘Huh, huh, huh, CAN IT?’

‘What?’ Karl would reply.

‘With shoelaces I can change the color of my laces on the same pair of shows ANYTIME I want, assuming I am carrying a variety of shoelace options on me at all time, which obviously I am, can you do that with FUCKING VELCRO?’ I’d scream.

‘Well not, but it’s hardly the s….’

‘SO DON’T YOU DARE USE THE WORD SUPERIOR IN REFERENCE TO VELCRO EVER FUCKING AGAIN’ I’d bellow, interrupting him.

‘Here’s a calamity – talking to someone about footwear tightening devices who value color and alterationalability over practicality!’ He’d declare.

He had me there.

I couldn’t argue against that.

He did have potential Karl. I had to give him that. That sure was a calamity I had never observed.

I avowed right there to help him. I could remember previously discovered calamities. He could spot and identify new calamities. As a team we would be unstoppable calamity experts. The title of ‘foremost’ suddenly seemed inevitable.

We’re out on of our many calamity finding expeditions right now. I have enormous hopes and endless dreams. There is only one flaw in our mission I have noticed so far – I’m constantly having to put a pause on the operations to stop and tie my shoe laces. I mean fuck me, there MUST be a superior technology than this?

Brilliant mystery

And that's when it hit me, 'I'm here for all the wrong reasons!' 

I should back up a little bit, fill in some facts, some details, some context, some character, I should, but I won't. 

Maybe all those things aren't important. Maybe the mystery matters. Maybe it's nice not to know occasionally. 

Like consider this - I don't know when I'll next smell someone's over sprayed Eau De Toilette. It could be tomorrow. It could be months. It could be years. 

See how riveting that mystery is? I don't even know what Eau De Toilette is! I could be smelling it right now. It's a riveting mystery. And the train I'm on right now just went over the Sydney Harbor Bridge, which is not just a beautifully, striking and dramatic location, but it's partially held together with rivets! So see how cool small details are? 

Wait, now consider this, imagine if I swapped Eau De Toilette with hugs! Wow, now it's heartfelt, sad heartbreaking even. Can you imagine not knowing when you'll next smell someone's over sprayed hug? 

So I think we've established that details matter, they make all the difference, and that's the exact opposite point I was trying to make. Oh fuck. 

Ok so, in that case 'I'm here for all the wrong reasons', I should back up a little, fill in some facts, some details, some context, some character, and I will! 

- it's a convenience store.

- I came for caffeinated and carbonated beverage but I've just discovered they sell caffeinated milk beverages, meaning I'm here for all the wrong reasons. 

- I'm tired and thirsty. 

- Me and some convenience store clerk. 

Well that was all completely uninteresting. Clearly details suck. Now I don't know what to believe. You know forget it, I'm going home my floating elephant dream powered roller derby colored super expansive brilliance dwelling, and I'll think about something interesting to talk about tomorrow. 

A bank for example

It’s been too long since I just started writing with no idea where it’s going to go and just see what I find. See I was a tad worried about doing this because most of my blogs are such wonderful delights of intrigue and creation which I didn’t want to lose, but as soon as I wrote that opening sentence I realized that I have naught to fear for I have opened an account at the bank of suspense. Will I find something good? Ooohhh suspense.

It’s like if you were in some sort of building, a bank for example, and there was talk of something happening there, a bank robbery perhaps, and you’d be all like:

‘Ooohhh I wonder if the robbery will happen while I’m in at the bank, so suspenseful, excuse me miss bank clerk, do you know when the bank robbery is happening?’

And she’d be all like:

‘Did you say bank robbery, you’re robbing the bank AAAGGHHHHGAGGAHHHHGAGGGHHHHHH, Dooooooonn’t shoooot meeeeee, pleeeaaasseeee, don’t shoooooooot me, I have a baby at home and I don’t want to leave him without a momma, I mean technically I guess he’s a toddler, and if I am being pedantic his father has remarried and we all agreed it was ok if he called his step mother, mom, just not momma, cause that’s me, I think that’s my right as a mother to reserve that name, I was the one that birthed him, and breast fed him, and changed his poopies, and I was one of only a few that played a part in him learning to talk, and which outlets in the house not to stick forks into, because we couldn’t afford to have them all made baby safe, and really why do they even make ones that aren’t baby safe, at some point a baby IS going to be in your house, so lets be realistic, I don’t want my baby getting electrocuted at my friend Donald’s house just because he doesn’t have his own kids so didn’t get the baby safe ones, and no, before you even ask, Donald is a friend, and only a friend, I have told my little baby’s, sorry toddler’s, Daddy this a thousand times, “well how do I know you ain’t fucking him” he’d say, and I’d be like “cause I said I ain’t fucking him that’s how”, that thick skulled ass, we don’t fuck ok, we just both really like playing Mario Cart so I go play it at his house, there is nothing wrong with that, he wouldn’t be complaining if Donald was Donna, now would he? He’d probably encourage it. Anyway, how is it still his business who I am or am not fucking? He’s left me and remarried and still asks. I ain’t fucking anyone that’s who! Unless you count my big plastic fun wand that was actually supposed to be designed to massage your back with. So please DOOOOONNN’TTT Shooooootttt’.

And the real bank robbers would be all like:

‘Oh shit, looks like someone beat us to it boys, thank god, he’s the one that has to picture in his mind that lady with her wand and not us! You know what, let’s quit bank robbing and go and get pie instead, everyone loves a nice slice of pie!’

Yep. Suspense is cool. And this blog had it somewhere. I’m happy with that, oh also I figured out how to get bank robbers to quit – pie. Sweet.

A Valuable Lesson - Really Valuable

A valuable lesson 

The cute little brown and white bunny named Sulli, had a comically enormous wide jawed bite with enormous teeth.

People liked to cuddle Sulli.

But Sulli didn't like to be cuddled. 

So the bites continued. 

'We've had a good thing going here for years Sulli' Kumni, another bunny, this one all black apart from a tiny white tip to his floppier left ear, said to Sulli one day 'don't ruin it you bastard, keep those comically large choppers of yours IN your mouth, or we may soon lose favor as the rodentesq creature most likely to be brought in doors to cuddle, you fucker!'

'You make me sad Kumni' responded Sulli 'for starters don't call us rodentesq, were NOT rodentesq, if that's how you feel about yourself then fine, I get it, you're kept in a cage specifically designed for ferrets, but just because THEY treat you that way doesn't mean you have to FEEL that way. Plus don't use "fuckers" as a derogatory term. We're rabbits motherfucker, and WE BREED LIKE RABBITS! Own it bitch. Or at least stop bringing your own species down with negative language and self loathing, got it!' 

Just then a human picked up Sulli for a cuddle. He bit the little girl. Hard. And it looked even worse given his comically oversized teeth. 

As the man of the house, in response to his daughter being bitten by such huge teeth, carried the two bunnies and a butchers knife into the kitchen, Sulli turned to Kumni and said 'look on the bright side, they probably wouldn't be planning on eating us if we were rodents'. 

Kumni responded with 'ferrets are not   rodents, they're weasels you stupid hug hating loser'. 

The Valuable lesson of course is, REALLY valuable - DON'T eat your pets.

Oh and give a ferret a go - they're NOT rodents.

Oh and bigger isn't necessarily better. 

Oh and just cause someone treats you a certain way doesn't mean you have to feel that way. 

Oh and don't hate on your friends you could both be eaten soon. I'm looking at you Kevin and Carlie! 

A story about being skinny

Trevor was skinny.

Really skinny.

Because everyone named Trevor seems to be skinny.

It's almost like a guarantee.

Your friend says ‘hey my friend Trevor is coming around’ and you picture him in your mind, then you always picture a skinny person.

Also you may wonder why you didn’t get an invite.

But that’s between you and your friend.

And his friend named Trevor.

If you want a skinny kid name them Trevor.

Girls too.

She’ll be the only girl at school with that name, which is cool.

Plus with a boys name she won't get as many creepy internet stalkers.

This Trevor I’m talking about was a boy though.

Oh and a fish.

That’s an important element here.

That helped him be skinny immensely.

For every fish in his species is skinny.

In their society you only get fat shamed if you get bulging eye disease.

Something that happens to around 40% of them.

Fat shaming is rife in their lives.

But not on the internet because it's hard to log on underwater without your screen getting distracting glitches.

A sex accident

Caig wanted to stop thinking about sex so much.

He went to his doctor and asked her for help. 

So she had sex with him.

He did say 'no I actually mean can I have some form or libido dampening drug?'

But only after he'd finished. 

That one was inspired by what I think I'd do if my penis was ever lost in a horrible accident :) 

A business man

A business man stares out his office window.

His facial expression says 'I wish I could go out and play'.

A boy playing in the street looks up and they make eye contact.

The boy looks into the businessman's sad eyes and thinks to himself 

'I don't ever want to grow up'.

Just then a bus hits him.

He gets his wish.

The business man thinks.

'Fuck, I bet with all this crap going on in the street I'll end up having to work late'. 

His fears come true. 

Sitting - Another beautiful poem

A man sat on a milk crate in an alley behind a restaurant 

He was just relaxing

But all those who happened upon him were able to think 

'I bet that's how he sits when he poops'