Shandy would've been more believable - A poem

'No, I'm not lying, the cockroach DID talk to me, I swear it on my daughters life!' Bellowed Taylor. 

She'd dug herself a hole. 

An innocent lie about where she'd been for the past hour had spiraled out of control and she had no idea how to reel it in. 

It was only after she claimed that the engagement ring the roach had given her had been stolen by a sneaky liquid metal glass of port that she thought 'maybe I should just admit I was masturbating in the disabled toilet'. 

Having a super attractive boss had NOT turned out to be the joy she'd imagined. 

Of course it was her daughter who suffered in the end. 

Considerably Fortuitous - A Poem

Adam sat and pondered...

He thought. 

He deliberated.

And then he went right back to pondering.

The topic - just where would the music industry be if fate hadn't intervened all those years ago... before music had even been invented.. And fortuitously conjured up the reality that the word 'love' rhymes with the word 'shove'. 

After six hours he finally reached an answer -

'Bout the fucking same' he said out-loud.

Then the lady on the bus sitting next to him got up and changed seat. 

Adam now moved onto his next topic of ponderation - wasn't this bus ride supposed to only be ten minutes? 

'This one threatens to be a doozy' he thought 'it may possibly even require a level of thought rare for me - consideration, perhaps even musing'

Then he realized...

'Oh shit' he thought 'that in itself is another thing to ponder, this is going to be a LONG bus ride'. 

Pattern

There's a pattern 

There's a streamline 

There's a lateness

There's a half life 

Like a bookshelf without a book making it a fucking liar 

Untrustworthy

And if you can't trust a bookshelf

What can you trust?

A coffee table?

Nope

I once saw a magazine on one of those 

That's NOT a coffee. 

A better tomorrow

Duncan was looking into the bottle. He wanted to see something in there. He wasn’t sure WHAT he wanted to see. Although he was sure of a few things that he did NOT want to see in there:

-       A fully operational miniature zebra wrestling zoo, where the zebras wrestle, just to be clear, if the zebras were just to distract people from the horrifically brutal miniature springbok wrestling matches in the background that would be fine.

-       A contaminated edition of the daily news that held the singular story that held the solution to the contamination problem sweeping the town of Daily, the town named after it’s local paper, and named on a day when no one knew that ‘daily’ merely meant the frequency of the paper’s issue.

-       Creepy looking cornhusks hell bent on revenge against husky dogs for being the most badass things named after husks, with plans on trying to recruit husky young men to their cause, but not sure how to do it, because it’s not nice to go up to someone and say ‘hey you look husky, wanna join my husky campaign’ especially when as a corn, it’s your cousin ‘high fructose corn syrup’ that’s caused half that huskiness.

-       Beer.

He also knew why he didn’t want these things to be in the bottle.

-       Cause zebras have weak legs for an animal in their animal category, so the wrestling matches wouldn’t be brutal enough.

-       Because how did the town have a paper before it had a town name? That’s backwards fella.

-       Because he was husky, and he had a pet Husky dog, and he did not want to get in-between it and his best friend, a creepy looking cornhusk.

-       Because if he was holding a beer, then it probably meant he had just drank his science experiment, and his boss down at the ‘Society of Experiments For A Better Tomorrow’ would NOT be happy that he drank his last six years of work.

Ten minutes later Duncan had a brainwave – it was right as his best friend the cornhusk began to beat him in his ‘fat tummy’, and the miniature springbok kicked him in his chin so hard that he spat contamination all over his newly opened beer – ‘I should have thought more about what I WANTED to see in that bottle, and LESS about what I did NOT want to see in that bottle!’ he thought.

And that is why we do not currently have a better tomorrow. Although I have heard good things about two week’s from Sunday.

RIP The 121 days of fit challenge

RIP The 121 days of fit challenge 

The 121 days of fit challenge died a sad and sudden death last night. 

 

It came down ill at about 930pm when it became clear that on this two and a half day train ride that I'm currently on from San Francisco to Chicago there will be no breaks off the train long enough to get a decent walk in, that there is no space to do any burpies or jumping jacks, and that the conductor didn't believe that my pacing for thirty minutes up and down my carriage was 'for exercise' or else why did he keep asking me if 'I'm sure I'm alright?'

Some awkward push-ups with half an elbow in and half out of a doorway didn't feel sufficient, the Nevada desert didn't provide any phone service to post an exercise achievement anyway, and the 121 day fit challenge just stopped fighting for life. In the end I think the the sleeping tablets I'd taken and the rocking of the train at least let it go peacefully in its sleep. 

While it lived merely a short 139 days, that was quite a decent life length for a 121 day challenge. And over that life there were definitely some highlights and some lowlights, these included:

High - People thinking that my gym videos looked like I was masturbating angrily and sweatily at the camera numerous times a week, which creeped out hundreds if not thousands of people, but possibly led to some enjoyment to some sick silent soul out there.

Low - People thinking that my gym videos looked like I was masturbating angrily and sweatily at the camera numerous times a week, which creeped out hundreds if not thousands of people, but possibly led to some enjoyment to some sick silent soul out there. 

High - Sticking it right up the skinny attractive face of my truly good friend Nick Day who received tonnes of praise for how good he looked in his 'after' photo at the conclusion of his personal 120 days of fit, where as I got ZERO praise for his 'after' photo, despite being the very person who took the photo he was being praised for, leading to me spitefully declaring 'ah yeah, well I'll do a 121 day challenge out of spite and really stick it up your ass, and take ALL the compliments for me, for MEEEEEEEE, woo ha ha'. 

Low - Ending the journey on a journey in the US, where despite an enormous amount of walking I have been stuffing my face with fattening food, haven't showered, and am bloated, greasy, dirty and pimply, so I can't produce a satisfactory 'after' photo right now. 

High - Finding myself on dozens of long walks, to all sorts of corners of my city I'd never bothered before to explore and finding lots and lots of beauty in places I never thought I would. 

Low - Finding out that Sydney has a significant rat problem late at night, and one time walking through a spiderweb so big that I'll be finding parts of it, and it's hatching spider eggs, on my body for years.

High - Discovering that these walks were enhanced greatly by taking photos and seeking great photo opportunities, simultaneously re-ignighting both my travel bugs and photo taking bugs.

Low - Which have really thrown my artistic career plans in the loop, made me very unhappy to stay still anywhere, and led me to being pimply on a train. 

High - Unleashing the awesome power of spite. I mean that wasn't just any photo I took of Nick, I got the light right, on my balcony at magic hour sunset light. I asked him an enticing question to unveil a fascinating facial expression, 'how's it feel to know that now as a skinnier more attractive man you're now more likely to get laid more and therefore more likely to get Aids more?'I handed his iphone back to him. It was a multistep process, how do people not praise the goddamn photographer? 

High - Achieving a significantly better body. Well slightly better. I think. 

Low - Being reminded I'm the kind of guy who will NEVER be satisfied with, happy with, content with, or in any way like my body. 

Yes, the 121 days of fit challenge has been a wonderful presence in my life. It's been a challenge, it's been fit, it's been a length describable in days, so it fit all its intended criteria. It's given me some purpose, and a daily sense of achievement, made my bathroom stink of stale sweat, led me to skip many chances at making connections with other human beings to instead spend hours in my stairwell, made it so I've listened to every episode of every podcast ever made, at least a dozen times let me hear some form of this sentence 'I don't care about your fucking challenge, I'm not fucking walking there you fuck', got me at least four people saying 'you look like you've lost weight', and ninety times made me think 'I wish it was girls who praised my looks occasionally, instead of elderly family members who got my name wrong'. 

And now it's dead. It died a success, and an inspiration (I know of at least one guy who decided to take on the same challenge and lasted nearly forty-eight hours!), and it shall now leave a hole in my life, even though it pretty much won't change anything about my life, because I don't want to eat well or be too fat, so lots of exercise is must. 

Long walks will continue, new adventures shall be sought (anyone got any suggestions?) but the #121daysoffit hashtag will no longer be with me, as per it's last will and testament it shall:

- Be cremated and have its ashes spread all over Nick Day's stupid compliment earning 'after' photo that was such a great achievement for him. 

- It's belongings will be fought over in a court of law by its surviving heirs, INCLUDING Phil, the child it so long denied to be its, given that he was conceived during a one night stand on a trip it took to Phoenix. 

- A fifteen gun salute shall be shot in its honor, 'but please not aimed at the sky, that's where heaven is you dicks, don't shoot heaven!' 

- The official eulogy shall be delivered by 'Barbra Streisand, or any other big nosed singer, but NOT, I repeat NOT, sung, I like those big nose nasal speaking tones'. 

- If an international holiday is named in its honor 'please don't make it in June, the middle months suck, and I never remember which goes first, June or July, or is it May? Oooh ooh, but DO enforce a silly costume! I know, make all those idiots wear half eaten burritos on their heads! That'll be hilarious!' 

- And most of all it would like to be remembered for its scent 'no one ever gets remembered for its scent, plus it would be a good excuse for Dave to never clean his bathroom'.

Thanks #121daysoffit. I'll miss you. 

Ps. And remember folks, next time you ask yourself 'did Dave just post a picture of himself jacking off?' the answer will still remain - maybe. 

On Compliments

'I'm telling you Margery, I'm not going to the beach house again' I said to Margery, an empty chair.

Margery always wants to go there, but I hate it, she knows I'm allergic to fun near large bodies of water. 

But I didn't feel like having an argument with her again so I instead complimented her face. Which is something females appreciate.

'Good face' you'll say.

'Thanks, I appreciate that' they'll respond. 

This isn't your only option to achieve appreciation of course. You can also attempt the following: 

- 'Good head'. For this one make sure you point at her head to avoid misunderstandings. I don't think I need to tell you how THAT could be misconstrued, but just because something isn't needed doesn't mean it's not provided - she may think you mean the head of a beer, and if she hasn't just poured you one you'll be in TROUBLE! She may even say things like 'stop your sarcasm, or else I may just stop sucking your dick and pour you a beer'. And that's dangerous for her to say with a dick in her mouth. 

- 'Good general collection of nose, mouth, eyes and related features'. For this one make sure you you add 'like eye brows and such' or else they may think you're complimenting their skin, um sorry, if I'm going to compliment your skin I'll say 'holy christ you are CRAP at growing zits, what a fucking loser'. 

- 'Good non-head parts, they go good with your head'. This one's a trick, because it only compliments their head once they realize that 'good' non-head parts only compliment a 'good' head, that's what compliments mean. That's why that song 'bad to the bone' added 'ba ba ba ba ba bad' after referencing the parts to the bone being bad, because 'that means bad head and bad non-head parts implied', was a line that was already implied by the early description. It was a bold move by the writer too, because 'that mean bad head, and bad non-head parts implied' would have been WAY catchier, but they chose integrity, and the public responded with praise. 

- 'You're freakin' dumb'. This ones obvious, good heads hold dumb brains, that's just fact. 

'Thanks, I appreciate that' they'll respond, if you say any of those. 

Of course Margery didn't respond 'thanks, I appreciate that' as she has no face, I'd forgotten. She's an empty chair. Margery instead responded 'screw you, now you are definitely taking me to the beach house'.

So here I am again at the beach house, facing my allergic reaction to having fun near a large body of water, normally it manifests itself in a mild rash, itchy eyes and hallucinations that can have me talking to inanimate objects, but I'm not TOO worried, I've asked Margery to poke me if I start doing anything weird, but I know I will do something, you don't choose you're allergies. 

'Then why did you buy a beach house, you must be stupid!' I hear you saying.

Thanks, I appreciate that. 

When seven is two too few - a poem

When seven is two too few - a poem 

Sometimes I think I could finally find fulfillment and contentment from life if I could just think of two more reasons to be thankful for cows.

This has been an example of a time when seven is two too few

The end. 

And now, as asked, nay DEMANDED, by all who read the above poem, here are seven reasons to be thankful for cows

1. Dairy products. Diary products are delicious and nutritious, and you can't enjoy a nice salad with bacon bits and goat cheese without first thanking the cow for his farm friends  the goats and the bacons.

2. Beef. You got beef with your neighbor? That's because he had the volume WAY to loud on this meat smoker.

3. Leather. Who amongst us doesn't occasionally put on a leather jumpsuit and drop a couple of squirrels down the neck hole for fun?

4. The colors black and white, first invented by the side of cows (At least this is what I've been arguing for years, fuck the current 'official' first. I'm adamant that the time a white horse fell down a well merely invented white and very, very, very blackish looking purple!) 

5. Buckets of cow piss. Buckets are great receptacles to get rid of your cow piss. 

6. Moo. An awesome word for bullies to cruelly taunt the overweight kids at school, ultimately leading them to murder those bullies, leaving us inbetweeners all the time in the world to yell 'koo-koo' at people who forgot to climb the local tall dude.

7. Lists. First invented to list reasons to be thankful for cows. 

Comeback attack

'You're possum brained' she said to me

'No I'm not' I replied, with a smile on my face due to the witty and accurate comeback I'd conjured. 

It hadn't been the first comeback I'd thought of 'if I'm so possum brained then how come I fell out the tree tonight and broke my arm?' Was my first instinct.

'And since when do possums eat six T-bone steaks, breaking the restaurant's record, then get the meat sweats and decide it's a good idea to climb a tree to try and puke on a statue of the guy who discovered the local ravine?' I knew I'd need to add. So I brushed it. Too wordy. And words are bite killers. I knew I needed bite in this comeback. Lots of bite.

'I'll fucking bite your face off' I next considered. I nearly said it too. But then it occurred to me, I bet possums bite people's faces off from time to time. Which would be badass 'how'd you lose your face?'

'Got bit off by a possum!'

'That's badass'

Would be how that went down. 

Yep definitely badass.

But then it occurred to me I was trying to make it seem like I wasn't possum brained, and a come back that did nothing but reflect possum brained activities would possibly undermine that.

'You suck' I considered briefly. But then I thought 'nah, save that one for later. Wait, maybe some time that she's drinking from a straw, hell yeah, that would kick major badassity AND hilarity'. So I saved it. You never know when you'll need a badass and hilarious line when someone you know is drinking from a straw. But you do know that it WILL happen one day. Planning is good sometimes. That's a lesson for all of you. Ever got lost chasing after your own shadow? Of course you have, we all have, that sucker is so damn hard to catch. But you wouldn't have if you'd 'planned' to go out at night during a citywide blackout on a very cloudy night that day instead. That's a tick for planning for damn sure.

'No I'm not' was my next thought. And I didn't even need to think about this one. Witty - tick. Biting - tick. Makes you think of possums biting off people's faces - no tick. 

It was a no brainer. And no brainers are my bread and what's it, that yellow stuff.

'Nice come back' she snapped back. 

Yep, I'd won this one. Turned out to be a pretty great honeymoon after all. 

Bathed in them!

I went to the slap shop today. 

No not that one. 

YES that one! 

And no NOT that one.

I already said the second one was right, why'd you keep guessing? 

That's weird dude. 

Yeah, sorry, you're not ready for stories about slap shops.

Slap shop stories are only for people who stop guessing things once they have already found their answer.

And it's a shame because this slap shop story is a doozy, which is 80s sitcom talk for 'really fucking badass'.

But your over guessing is going to cut you out sorry.

That's just the rule.

And I don't make them.

Not anymore at least.

I retired from the slap store story governing body six whole weeks ago.

Although obviously this particularly rule we're discussing came in under my stewardship.

But not specifically to fuck up your life. 

It hasn't always been this way of course.

Who could forget the wonderful case of Johnson, Cliche Name, Johnson. He BATHED in slap store stories, and he once guessed that the Duck Billed Platypus would one day also grow a goose bill, even after his previous guess, 'Duck Bill Platypus will one day grow a hat that is comfortable but probably not good at keeping the sun from his neck' was declared 'yeah, probably'. A guessing on that bothered a LOT of people. I mean they're just called 'Platypus', the duck bill is a guarantee, it doesn't need to be specified, there ARE no duck bill-less platypus. 

But he guessed on and so did you. And here we are.

Which is a shame because I like you. 

I really like you.

And this slap shop story is great. 

Really great. 

I'm guessing you're pissed off now. 

Yes?

Exactly.

I'm guessing that your smiling now.

See what I did there.

I guessed on.

Now you feel the pain.

Well I think we all learned some things today:

- If you're named Johnson people hate you.

- If you're a platypus with a duck bill AND a goose bill, lift that hat up, we want to see.

- I like you.

- Awww.

Flop Heavy

Bill bought a blue shirt.

That stupid damn, dinglefaced, scar smelling, gargantuanlly biscuit minded, suitcase with no wheels even though it's very very heavy, tree that grows coconuts but doesn't grow coconut opening knives or machetes, tile stained with flop sweated, jalapeño flavored hair cut, tumble weed inspired phlegm fighting, yes man even when no is the clear answer due to logistical, beurocratic and unfashionable yet constitunally reprehensible in a no good way, fat wallet with seeds for no longer popular plants, simple eyed, fenced from leg warming long socks on a cold, breezy and heavy locust swarming swimming hole imagination vacationed, monkey titted but male titties, vacuous, poor at judging and planning in regards to likely weather conditions likely to be faced, like a teddy bear with one foot slightly smaller than the other but not in a cute way, using a moisturizer not ideally suited to his particular skin type, dumb, stupid, idiot, moronic, dumb, idiotic stupid dumb moron! 

Oh wait, no, sorry, it was Belle who's viciously deathly allergic to the color blue, never mind.

Fuck, I should probably should uninvite her to my pool party this weekend, I heard there's going to be sky. 

Down low - A Poem

Luke Noft was SO the opposite of uptight that he'd begun to be low-loose! 

Then one day a relaxing tune came on the radio and he melted. 

They screamed - a poem

Phil wanted to know if he was loved.

So he picked a flower.

And began picking off petals.

Asking,

Nay, stating,

Nay, BEGGING!

'She loves me'!

'She loves me not!'

'She LOVES me!'

'She loves me NOT!'

With each petal picked.

The insane damn gambling rogue! 

Everyone who saw this display of desperation and affection was moved.

Nay, inspired!

Nay, on the seat of their, well feat, this was in a garden, there were no chairs for them to be at the end of! 

The petals began to disappear rapidly.

The tension grew substantially. 

The hope expanded exponentially.

When finally.

Nay, eventually.

Nay fatally!!!

He reached the final petal.

'She loves me!!!!'

'She loves him!!!!'

'They LOVE one another!!!!!!'

The crowd roared. 

'Who's the lucky girl?'

'Nay lucky soul?'

'Nay lucky existence body of possibility hope!'

They SCREAMED!

'Oh I was seeing if that specific flower loved me'.

He said matter of factly.

That disembowering scumbag. 

Puddle with puddleness - A Poem

There are robots, and dinosaurs, and other types of robots, and some dinosaur looking things, it's the most exciting thing ever! 

Wait, wait, wait...

Do you mind if we take a brief break here and I tell you a couple of things about puddles? 

That's ok? 

And I should point out, before you answer, that I love puddles.

I LOVE them. 

I love how big and puddly they are.

I love how wet with water they are. 

I love how leafy with leaves they can be. 

I love how incecty with dead incects they can be.

I mean the things a puddle can be with a different way of saying itself are practically endless.

Depending on the width of the puddle of course.

I mean you get a narrow puddle diameter and it will NOT be wide with width.

Or even broad with breadth.

That's just fact fella. 

And you can bank that fact at the bank.

The fact bank.

Which, depending on your particular relationship with gullibility should be your brain.

Obviously if you are heavily gullible then you can't call your brain your fact bank.

Oh look, there you go again, believing a lie!

Are you a moron?

Of course 'you' can call it your fact bank.

You're a gullible person, which could be considered a sign that you are potentially on the the moron spectrum, so no one listens to you anyway, call it whatever the hell you want. 

Call it 'the source of 83.4% of the world's artificial seaweed' if you want. 

Who's going to stop you? 

Cal Burch, the artificial seaweed baron from New Orleans? 

And I know what you're thinking - 'you're testing my gullibility again aren't you?'

But no, this time I'm not, he's real.

And yes he WILL stop you.

Do you know how many people he's killed to become a true artificial seaweed baron?

Three! 

When he had them taste prototypes of his heavily chemical content artificial seaweed.

And obviously it wasn't INTENDED for human consumption.

Or even animal consumption.

It's mostly for show.

You know, because once you've heard someone say 'oh I love what you've done with the place, awesome artificial seaweed'

You want to KEEP hearing that. 

So is it ok if I talk about puddles? 

(Smile).

Thank you.

Here I go.

'Yay puddles'.

That was nice. 

Thanks.

Sorry about that moron stuff. 

You didn't deserve that. 

You've been nothing but kind and sweet to me.

We should hang out more. 

Are you keen? 

We could maybe meet in a dinosaurs mouth?

If we're super cute together the dinosaur may well 'aww' so hard that it drools! 

If it drools a lot, it might land on yet ground.

If it lands on the ground it may start a puddle! 

Yay puddles.

I love how dinosaur drool with dinosaur drooly they are!