My brain is a wee bit sore from a long week of thinking about this, that, and the other. About all it's capable of producing today is name, rank, and serial number.
The place is yours today, kids. You can write poetry, or prose, tell jokes, pass love notes -- whatever your little hearts desire. And -- enjoy your Saturday concert.
The place is yours today, kids. You can write poetry, or prose, tell jokes, pass love notes -- whatever your little hearts desire. And -- enjoy your Saturday concert.
71 comments:
Really...?
How about this....
"There once was a fella named Glass,
That had 2 balls made of brass,
When he clanked them together,
They played 'Stormy Weather'..
..And lightening shot out of his ass"!!!!
Hahaha...Mr. Poetall!!
Have a great day...
Serena Joy!!!
...BTW, #1 ????
...AND #2 and #3..???
LOL, G. Long week for you, too, dude?:-)
Screaming eagles went vrooom,
While Serena wielded her broom,
Scared her to death,
But she sucked in her breath,
And the dog, she proceeded to groom.
Vrooom-vrooom-vrooom (3 - count 'em), Mr. Poetall. Happy Saturday, G!:)
Serena Joy....?
Look at you!!!
Spontanious Poetic Eruption..
"She hopped on the back of his seat,
She didn't care if the laundry was neat,
Her puppy was combed,
Through the country they roamed..
What a Wonderful Summertime treat!!
Ooohhhh Serena!!!
A Trifecta!!!
Hehehehehe..xoxoxbgxoxox
And Serena..?
Sorry about your sore Brain..(kiss,kiss)
LMAO, G. Trust me, it ain't that hard to crank out hideously bad "poetry." :-)
She said "Thank you, sir, for the brain regards,"
As she cracked the whip over her pseudo Bards,
And thought up some lines,
With no meter but some rhymes,
And yelled, "Brain hurts again! This is hard." xoxox
For the laugh of the Poetards,
He knew weren't retards.
He thought hard for their regards,
And longed for their best Bards.
My poetry blows.
Well Charles my man, join the Bad Poets Society, I know I'm a member!!
Sherry Dear
Never fear
Because it's a lovely Saturday..
No One will read it anyway...
There once was a girl from Kentucky,
Who said,"Follow me and get lucky!"
But her parents were home,
So for the sake of this poem,
I went home alone and got shitfaced.
God, I turn my back for a little while and turn y'all loose, and look what happens. A whole new genre of poetry erupts! Galen, Charles, and Sling, you Poetards are making me LMAO. I love it!:-)
She awoke in a fog,
From a nap where she slept like a log,
To find poetry in bloom.
Though 'twas like bad mushrooms,
It had her rooting like a poetic truffle hog.
NO!
NOT "the other"!!!!
You're only supposed to be thinking about this and that.
When you start thinking about 'the other' - well - thats when all hell breaks loose.
Sheesh.
wanna come over to my place for a swim?
xx
pinks
Alas, it was the Other that did me in, Pinks. It was damn good, though.:-)
I think I HAVE to come to your place for a swim. I sort of owe it to you since I ended up sending you floods instead of sunshine.:)
Sorry 'bout the sore brain. Been there. Done that. Got the T shirt. Hope the brain is de-sored soon. Somehow that sounds nasty, Girl.
Oh, it's okay, CD. I got the cure, took the medicine. I might even beat it up again because I find I like the cure. I would like to have the t-shirt, though. Girls need the shirts to show where they've been, don't you think?:)
He liked reading his Sci-fi,
He was just that kind of a guy.
The tests said write mystery,
It wasn't part of his history,
Do you get the gist, Teri?
Don't know much about history,
Writing SciFi is a mystery,
But I know that Teri, what a hack,
Hey-la, hey-la, my boyfriend's back,
And all suspiciously blistery.:)
You've talent, das fer shure.
Alas, there's little call for such talent at the home. They give you drugs, you know, to suppress The Voices.:)
You too?
Somewhere people are sleeping like dogs,
Making sounds like the sawing of logs;
It's the weekend, it's Saturday
And still others are at play;
So then why do we bother writing our blogs?
Indeed, why commit our words to a screen?
In all probability they won't be seen.
Can it be after a week of strife
That readers might have a life?
Maybe I will post on the walls of a latrine.
Day-o, day-o,
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Day, me say day, me say day, me say day.
Me say day, me say day-o
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Well, not yet, Charles, but soon. If the drugs are good enough, maybe it won't be so bad.:)
We blog on latrine walls, Mike, because we must,
Otherwise, our brains will rust,
We're not prone to procrastination,
Or, God forbid, premature pontification,
God help us, we've got the blogging lust.:)
I feel your pain, T-o,
Nighttime good, daytime blow,
Light a candle and find your way home,
To nap, to blog, or to howl and roam,
Day-o turn night-o, so enjoy it, T-o.:)
There's plenty of bloggers out there that are funny, but your's is just fun.
Why, thank you, Charles. I do love it when people are in an interactive mood, like today. That always turns into such fun.:)
I just don't know what to say after reading g-man's horrible mutilation of one of my favorite limericks. LOL
There was a young man from Madras
Whose balls were constructed of brass
When jangled together they played Stormy Weather
And lightening shot out of his ass.
Mutilated rhymes are the best, though, Roxan. Oh, wait -- look who I'm talking to.
Roxan, the Queen of the Grue,
She'll love you, then disembowel you,
Candy from strangers, do not take,
And you're advised to carry an ash stake,
In that dark red night of toxic stew.:)
Poetards!!! LMFAO!!!
--snow
No verse, Snow? LOL.:-)
I just got back from vacation so my brain is mush.
Mushy brains are good. :)
I hope you've been well Serena!
MAN, S-J; You had much better luck dragging poetry out of people today than I did.
Serena, I don't think you'll snooze
When you hear the good news;
So scurry on over to my place
For an honor to brighten your face:
You have been awarded a SCHMOOZE.
Go here to collect your prize.
Mikey, thank you! Now I can call myself a SCHMOOZE FLOOZIE.:-)
Hi, Dan! Did you bring me back proof positive of Big Foot's existence? Hope you had a grand time.
I know, Camille. Go figure. I figured that sticking the kids in Study Hall all day, they'd either graffiti the walls or spend the day passing notes back and forth. Instead, they rocked the joint with Loose Limericks.
I got the coolest WordVer on somebody's blog a little while ago: Xbata. I'm not sure whether it could be defined as some application prototype, a mythical place, or ... something delightfully nasty. I love saying it, though.:-)
A man selling Ice Cream AND singing Italian songs?
What's the name of this park? Stereotype Gardens?
Gee, SJ,
I can't seem to find a definition of "Xbata" on Wikipedia, or Dictionary.com. Googleing for it returns a place with the name, and a lot of places that the string occurs in data (like in mp3's.) You sure it wasn't the formulas in the Missile control systems, that you saw it? :D
poetards...sure..here goes:
Serena's blog is so much fun
There is always something here to be done
When you'r not ansering questions
You'r discovering your(im)perfections
With variety many hearts she has won!
An adorable gentleman called Charles
Would occasionally not mind some brawls
Where he would flex his muscles
And throw out his knuckles
Enemy loses memory an' nev'r recalls!
Casanova in makin' called Galen
Like an all-made-of-women batallion
He would line them in a queue
Make them taste his barbeque
Wanting return kisses counting in a million!
There is a darling girl called Lime
Her laughter is like a wind chime
Nice Chickens she can fry
Does some awesome tie and dye
On the scale of Wit she is Sublime!
A wonderful cat called Topcat
Once appeared in tuxedo and top hat
Watching him was such a bliss
That I blew him a kiss
Though he smiled his eyelid he did'nt bat!
A gregarious lass called Snow
Moves around with two chilies in tow
Washing cooking feeding cleaning
Studies hard gives life a meaning
Yet never forgets to paint her toes!
Dan sat next to Queen at tea
It was just as I'd thought it would be
Her rumbling abdominal
Was simply phenomenol
And everyone thought it was he!
When depressed Mona goes Boo Hoo
Then can always find something to do
When it bores her you know
To walk to & fro
She reverses it and walks fro & to
Puggy, it was smores ice cream,
Like musical gelato, an Italian dream,
It'll make you sing,
And your bell it will ring,
'Til "Ciao, bella!" you will scream.:)
If it doesn't actually exist, Charles, all the better! We can make it be anything we want it to be. Xbata! Onward, charge!:-)
Mona, you have outdone yourself! I bow to your delightfully brilliant creativity.:)
Hey Serena! when I was a fifteen I became infatuated with a married Man.This was the first poem I wrote then:
Bathing in the luxury
Of dandified dreams
Pigeon breasted with pride...
At a distance
A hovering mist of whispers
Waits to be captured
And spoken...
While I search
For the ore of initiative
Old maid Sense lashes
Like a laser beam
And the sliced tongue falls...
The asphyxiated feeling gasp...
Struggle to emerge
Till with a gross intensity
Eyes are Vocal.
Yet.. by now image of my love
Has drifted too far for him
To see
Darts of conscience are quenched And quit
Strange voices from ahead summom...
Strange.. how I recalled it today out of the blue after I came here to find you handing us over your space to rant!
Its all coming back to me...
Distances, days seperate us
But visions unfold...
I wait & you wait
Both in different ways
I for the pandora's box to open
To release my ailing soul
And you for the lid to come down
to stop more sorrows oozing out
Both in vain...
I am unloved and you are unloved
Yet we have learned to love
To give to take
to help be helped
Yes we have learned to love
A shame?
And now among these silent hills
Unperturbed
I let my mind wander to you
You & I
Going on & On & on
& on the way we laugh we talk
We cry we mock
But still I feel
That together
We walk alone...
Dearest Roxan,
I am about 7 years your senior, so what makes you think that MY version of this limerick is not the original?
Actually, I gleaned this from a very popular comedy album of the very early 60's called "Doug Clark and his Hot Nuts"
"There once was a slut named Gloria.
That dated Sir Gerald de Moria,
She dated his twin,
Then Sir Gerald again,
And the staff, at the Waldorf Astoria"!!!!
And you MONA!!!
You are way out of control girl.
No ones ever written me a poem before....
Thanks..xox
Oh Hi Serena....Never mind me OK?
Hehehe xoxoxbgxoxox
Mona, you wrote that when you were 15? People 2 or 3+ times older couldn't touch its insight. You are truly unique.
Oh, I'm minding you all right, Galen. Mmm-hmm, keeping an eye on you. Don't think I don't see you sitting back there in the last row making spitballs:-)
xoxbdxox
g-man, You could very well be right. Or not.
I found this Kansas one:
Two mischievous stock boys in Kansas
Liked to rub the fresh fruits with their glanses.
One explained, "It's good kicks,
peach fuzz tickles our wicks,
And the air from the cooler vent fans us."
Serena.....?
I'm a victim of circumstance!!
Me..?
A troublemaker?
Surely you jest!!!
Sereeeeeena!!
Roxan's being naughty!!
Circumstance, schmircumstance, G. I think I'm going to have to speak to you about this after school.:)
Yes, I see that Roxan is being naughty. I suppose I should now be prepared for an onslaught of dirty limericks -- which I anticipate with great relish.:-)
Hi, Serena, and all the folks here. Hope your weekend is a good one. It is just about over. No rain this evening. I'm happy.
There is a girl named Roxan
who dismembers just cause she can
she likes it so well
She wrote a gory tale
bout a serial killin' man
After school?
Awww Man!!!
I think you still have a sore head from yesterday, and you are just taking it out on me!
How about a limeric bribery?...
"There once was a woman named White,
That demanded "two dozen" a night,
A man named Cheddar,
Had the courage to wed her,
...He'll never survive the night"!!!
Miss Serena....?
Do I still have to stay after?
Hi, Steve. Yep, the weekend is just about over. I'm glad you're happy, though.:)
Roxan, your serial killin' man wouldn't be as gory and scary if he'd limit himself to, you know, just serial killin'.:)
G, quit your bellyachin'. You're the one who led the study hall revolt and I know it. And you're the one who made my head sore. You not only have to stay after school, but you're getting extra homework. So there.
Mrs. Cheddar, née White,
Gave Mr. Cheddar a fright,
When she made her demands,
And then slapped his hands,
When he cried, "Only twice a night!"
(They're both fondue now and no longer a big, whiny problem.)
OK Miss Serena,
Do what thou wilt....
I'm all yours!!!!!
xoxoxbgxoxox
Mmmm. Cheese and wine, a fine fondue.
Bread chunks and fruit bits, and skewers will do.
A small warming flame, Nobody to blame.
Enjoyed it, consumed it, remember her name.
It just wouldn't be the same without adding what he does with the body parts. Just another (yawn) serial killin' novel. LOL
Dust the erasers and take out the trash,
Galen's gotten all sassy and brash,
Told teacher to do what she wilt,
So she told him with a wink and a lilt,
That he deserved a good correctional thrash.:-)
xoxbdxox
Dang, Charles, you actually made fondue (something I don't care for) sound darn good.:)
This is true, Roxan. Hideously gruesome, but true.:)
G-Man - You're the first person I know of in over 30+ years who knew about "Doug Clark & The Hot Nuts."
I saw them perform in Chicago (don't remember the venue) and I had some tapes by the group. They used a lot of limericks in their recordings and act.
Mike, there's a place here where they used to play annually. In fact, what's left of them played not too long ago.
you think so Serena?
ok.. let me copy & paste it to my blog & see what the rest have to say...
Mona, you've never posted that poetry on your blog? Do it! I predict you're in for some truly illuminating feedback. This will be a facet of you your readers haven't seen before.
"I Got the hot nuts for you, baby..."
oops - got caught up in the lyrics.
Wow, SJ. I didn't know they were still performing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FjhOBiSk8Gg
Have you seen this? The impotence of proofreading.
Mike, I wasn't sure how long it had been so I did a quick Google and found this dated June '07:
Were you talking about Doug Clark and The Hot Nuts? They've been a tradition here for about 26 years. They play every Thanksgiving at a place called The Coffee Pot. Doug Clark died in 02 but they still draw quite a crowd. The place is packed every year. Seniors, bikers, college students; you name it. Thanksgiving day is for family, Thanksgiving night is for partying with friends and The Hot Nuts.
It'll be interesting to see whether they're booked again this coming Thanksgiving.
I had not seen that video, Liz. That's hysterical. Thanks!
Blog posts are furitive and mean.
They must be kept in close quarantine.
Or they run to the slums,
and promptly become:
Disorderly. perverse and obscene.
STOMPALODEOOOOOOOOOOO!
Disorderly, perverse, and obscene,
Why, I don't know what you mean!
Slumming is fun,
When it's well done,
And Scary Mon's on the scene.:)
Was I mean? Darn, I just meant to be evil.
I see a story shaping up here -- Charles battles the evil fondue -- and he STILL has to stay after school 'cuz the mean teacher said so. LOL!
Wow...what an impressive array of talent here.....great fun!
Y'all are all an incredibly talented bunch of people, Leelee. You can all do great things, and have a load of fun doing it.:)
Sorry, SJ. I was stuck working on my research paper and my brain was all locked up with facts!
I tried to make up for it today. ;)
--snow
Not to worry, Miss Snow -- you more than made up for it.:)
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