Category Archives: Random Gibberish

Metaphor

What’s a metaphor?
It’s to keep grazing cows in
You can lead a horticulture
But you can’t make her like Beethoven

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Lame

I want to write
But the only thing whirling in my mind right now
Is that hackneyed Hee Haw song
Woe, despair, and agony on me
Death and grief and excessive misery
If it weren’t for bad luck
I’d have no luck at all
Woe, despair, and agony on me
And how lame is that?

Shorts

I put on some shorts
They were ratty
And had holes all along the elastic
They’re almost twenty years old
The colors have faded to a nondescript gray
The pattern barely visible

I still wear them
Because you gave them to me

Kicking The Pipes

Waiting on hold again
Hoping to for the call to bring
Right away it falls apart
Were this a piece of paper
I’d crumple it up and toss it away

I want to start with something better than that
Trying to find words that won’t fall down flat
The pipes have been clogged for so long
I’m hoping the skills aren’t all gone

I reread that little stanza
And have hope
Meter and time seem to be there
Bonanza!
Maybe I feed myself enough rope
Fruit will bear

So forgive these farts
As I clear out the parts

My fingers do as they will

Mario Kart

And the bomb
That’s what we’re doing now
I’m going to booby trap this place
That works too
I wish I knew how to reverse
I really wish I knew
Am I broken?
Gonna hit that?

I’m stuck with a joint
As the kids resume playing
I can deal with that

Fucking penguins
I wish I could could kill penguins
Right into the side of a mountain
I beat you at your own stupid puzzle

My cigarette is done
As is my drink
And I need to pee
So be are be

No One’s Watching

No one’s watching
I’m streaming live
We’re in the middle of round two
And I’m tapping on the phone
Because
No one’s watching
Call it performance art
On a very weird and slow night

Posted from my phone.

Word Doodling

I sit on the floor and pick my nose
And think of dirty things
Elven maidens in fishnet hose
Their nipples pierced by rings

I roll the boogers into little balls
As I dream about various nasties
Leather clad Dwarfgirls three feet tall
And the pleasures in their panties

All the while I sit and pick
The thoughts in my head unwind
On Dragons who like to give it a lick
And take it from behind

Asylum

What is that smell? I wondered as consciousness returned. I had no idea where I was. The last thing I remembered was running into Storm over at the park. Literally. I was pedaling my saggy ass across town to pick up a booster box when a transformer blew up (that happens sometimes when I’m not keeping a lid on it), and the EMP knocked Storm down from wherever the hell she was, and she landed right in front of my tire.

I distinctly remember the sound of the thud, and her Ooof! Ow! as my tire hit her ribcage. This in turn sent me ass over teakettle. I remember flying through the air, and the pavement looming large.

Now it gets fuzzy.

So. Where am I now? Why does it smell like a goat died a week ago? Can I move? It felt as though I were under some fuzzy blanket. I slowly sat up. I may have groaned, I don’t know. I wasn’t hearing anything.

I wasn’t seeing much, either. Everything was gauzy and pink. I rubbed my eyes, and felt hard grit come away. But my view was still rosy fuzziness. And why was that smell so familiar?

I pushed the wing up, crawled out from underneath. Oh fuck. Not again. Spitfire’s smiling face peered at me from the headboard. Good morning, Blippy! I know I groaned this time, because her face turned just that quick to blazing anger. You weren’t so upset last night, were you? You liked it just fine then, didn’t you, you nasty slug? Oh yes, you loved it! Don’t give me this shit! Quit your whining, put on that GI Joe outfit, and come here and fuck me, or I swear by the Horn of King Sombra I will shit on your grave tonight!

I stared at the costume hanging on the far wall, across a sea of cigarette butts, beer bottles, ropes, spilled bongs, roaches, dildos, and other less reputable items. Was I really going to do this? Again?

I started crawling.

About a month of “Your MTGO Modern meta at a glace” charts set to Dead Kennedys/Hyperactive Child.

Simulating An Earthquake

Many decades ago, I was Technical Writer and Support Specialist at a largish mail order PC parts distributor. This was back in the dark ages, when IBM clones first started hitting the marketplace, and a 80386 was hot shit.

The company I worked for was located in a seismically designed building in San Jose.

Two days after the Loma Prieta quake in ’89, the tech who ran the BBS, another tech, and I were bored. We did a little measuring and math, and figured out a “sweet spot” which happened to be in a large clear area near the copy machine.

We ambled our way to that spot, and we proceeded to “bounce on our knees” in unison – jumping up and down without our feet leaving the floor.

Within five seconds, concerned heads were popping above cubicle walls, and screaming was heard. Shrieking, actually. The three of us were writhing in laughter. We had no idea our results would be so spectacular!

The next day, we were all called to carpet, and “written up” for “simulating an earthquake”. It was one of the proudest moments of my life.

Posted from my phone.