This post is dedicated to Gautami Tripathy and her wonderful poetry blog. Did I just hear a groan from the black sheep? Yes, I said "poetry". Some of you could use a bit of exposure to the finer things. And I don't mean going to the museum on field trip days in your special trenchcoat, either.
Okay, are you all ready, with tea and strumpets in hand? Good. I would first like to start off with a favorite classic from Shel Silverstein, entitled "It's All The Same To The Clam".
It's All The Same To The Clam by Shel Silverstein
You may leave the Clam on the ocean floor It's all the same to the Clam. For a hundred thousand years or more, It's all the same to the Clam. You may bury him deep in mud or muck, Or carry him round to bring you luck. Or use him for a hockey puck. It's all the same to the Clam.
You may call him Frank or Jim or Nell It's all the same to the Clam. Or make an ashtray from his shell. It's all the same to the clam. You may take him riding on a train or leave him sitting in the rain. You'll never hear the Clam complain. It's all the same to the Clam.
Yes the world may stop or the world may spin It's all the same to the Clam. And the sky may come a fallin' in It's all the same to the Clam. And man may sing his endless songs, of wronging rights and righting wrongs. The Clam just sets - and gets along. It's all the same to the Clam.
My take? We can learn a lot from the clam. The first thing we can learn is that in this great big world, the problems of one (or two) people don't amount to a hill of beans. So clam the f*ck up and deal with it. And remember, it's all the same to the clam.
Okay, now that I've hog-tied you with witty-prose and greased you up for more; here is a poem that I just wrote in the comments on Gautami's blog, where yesterday's theme was "the body knows".
My Body by Pug Puerileuwaite
My body perhaps could be a temple But when I find myself alone In the dark Too often I find the need To treat my body As if it were an amusement park
My first entry, submitted a while back, was on the topic of "chalk" (no, not caulk, so get your filthy minds out of the gutter).
Chalk by Pug Puerileuwaite
Tracing and placing Giving one-dimensional boundary to a multi-dimensional shape From a form of existence in this existence no more Starkly the chalkline reveals one fact from the case Where the vessel wound up in time and in space Spirit released into limitless sky Point no finger at me I have an alibi
Well that does it for this inaugural installment of "Poetry Cornered". You may all go back to eating Sterno from the can, and watching "Three's Company" reruns.
I thought I would take a moment to share an observation from my repeated travels to hell and back this week.
A few days ago I was driving home and happened upon a commericial vehicle for some sort of "Bee Relocation" service, with the motto: "We evacuate, not exterminate". The first thought that popped into my head was, evacuate, exterminate, mastubate ... just get those damned bees outta here. Especially if they're KILLER bees.
But then how can you identify a killer bee before it strikes? It's not like you can readily pull up their "rap sheet". Can you see it in their eyes? Do they have a souless stare reminiscent of sharks?
Are there early-detectible, ominous signs that they don't play by rules of conventional society? Are there different types of killer bees? Are some bees "serial killers" cast from the Ted Bundy mold, masquerading as harmless, injured bees with damaged wings needing help of some sort until the victim is too close and it's too late? Are some akin to Jeffrey Dahmer, picking up other bees in gay bee nightclubs and luring them back to their honeycombs?
My theory? Killer bees can be ANY bee. So don't trust any of them unless you know the bee.
The second thought that came to mind was the scene from "Tommy Boy", where Chris Farley (Tommy Boy) and David Spade (Richard) were drinking and driving, and about to be pulled over by a squad car. Tommy remembered a ruse to ward off the cops. The boys veered off the road into a field, and ran from the car frantically waving their arms and shouting "Bees! Stay away! Save Yourself!". It worked. The cops wouldn't go near them or the car, fleeing the scene instead, with one of them yelling back, "We'll go get help!".
Think about it. What cop in his or her right mind* (* assuming those types do exist) would want to ever pull THAT particular vehicle over? Of course, if I were the driver, I'd wear a nasty looking bandage on my left hand; with the right hand periodically waving through the air inside the truck.
Yesterday I came across another commercial vehicle for a company called "Caulk Experts". I nearly drove off the road. I was tempted to follow in the footsteps of a prank from "Crank Yankers" (a Comedy Central show featuring actual crank phone calls acted out by Muppet characters),
calling the company and praising them for knowing so much about "caulk". Not just ANY man could drive that truck (or do that job ... though his business cards would definitely be collectibles) for a living. It would take a real man.
Whew! What a week. Makes me wish today was Monday all over again so I could have a "do over". Just kidding. Had you fooled though, didn't I?
Well, apparently because I persevered like the tenacious Pug that I am, I have the afternoon off. And what better way to spend it, than to skillfully craft a full-bodied post.
When we last left off, Reverend had given me the letter "L " for my list of things that I like or people that I love. But first in return I would like to give something to Reverend. However, since I am not there in London to give it to her, I will have to go with my "Plan B": the gift of song (which doesn't require treatment like "Plan A" does).
Reverend Jack and his Roamin' Cadillac Church by Timbuk 3
Come hell or high water A soul's got to find some release Some find it in power And some in heavenly peace Some look to the preacher As he speaks from his holy perch Me, I back Rev. Jack & his Roamin Cadillac Church
So if you're stuck at the station On the road to the Glory on High If you need some inspiration He's got more than your money can buy If you're lookin for salvation Well my friend it's the end of your search Here comes Rev. Jack & his Roamin Cadillac Church
Ain't no use watchin the road, son When you ride in his automobile Cause we're all back seat drivers, & there's nobody at the wheel
Now for the well-to-do doctor There's a home & a summer retreat And for the jet-settin banker There's a place in the social elite But for the poor & the hungry All the lost souls left in the lurch There's just Rev. Jack & his Roamin Cadillac Church
I love that song. And it's way better than TImbuk 3's overhyped "The Future's So Bright (I Gotta Wear Shades)". So check it out if you can find it. Or else email me at firstname.lastname@example.org and I'll "see what I can do" mp3-wise.
Okay here goes. Ten things (in no particular order) I like or people I love that start with the letter "L"
Lust (Because it is similar to "zest". And a have a "zest" for women and their many uses* (* some more than others)).
Led Zeppelin (This one needs no explanation.)
Lapdance / Lapland (My alternate reality features a wonderous country named Lapland where Lapdances are free.)
Life (Because Mikey Likes it.)
Liberty (Not so much for the concept itself, but rather because I enjoy taking Liberties whenever possible.)
Libido (I couldn't Leave out Libido, as my blog is based on my Libido. A Linchpin, so to speak.)
Lick (Which reminds me of French Lick, Indiana, which I've always been amused by - as town names go.)
Limerick (Who doesn't enjoy a good Limerick?)
Lobster (Not only because Girlgoyle Loves them. But also because The B-52's sang about one.)
Log Cabin (Not a big fan of the syrup. Mrs. Butterworth is way funner to squeeze. But Log cabins are cool because you can get the **** away from people, except for the one that you're inside having wild monkey sex with. Then when you're done, you can go outside and get away from her. [I'm kidding, of course.])
London (Somewhere between the beautiful smiles and extroverted, warm nature of Brits, there Lies the Legacy of great music. The Beatles, Stones, Kinks, The Who, Led Zeppelin, The Clash, and many many others, make England (and London in particular) a Mecca for rock fans. Including this Pug. Plus, Reverend is there, and we still need to recreate the Abbey Road album cover.)
Loose Women (For the obvious reason. They may have some Loose change.)
Lotion (Comes in handy during my visits to YOUR blogs. Especially Lamby's.)
Lottery (What I hope to win so that someday I can purchase a small tropical island that we all can Live on. When we run out of food and entertainment, we can reenact "Lord of the Flies" with our own special "Black Sheep vs. White Sheep" rendition. Or, we can hold our own Lottery, where we annually select one of our bretheren for public stoning so that our marijuana crop will be plentiful.)
Love Affair (Because the "affair" part indicates an end before the "Love" part becomes too tedious and demanding.)
Lucifer (Just seeing if you're actually paying attention. Besides, with eBay around, who needs to sell their soul to that jerk?)
Luscious (I view women as fruit, ripe for picking. And "Luscious" is the perfect adjective.)
Luxury (It would be nice to be able to hire a topless supermodel just to prefold and hand me the toilet paper as I require it.)
Linguini (Not only is it tasty, but the name is nicely ethnic.)
Lawyers (Still paying attention? Good, because I can't stand Lawyers. I've got a "Pro-Boner" for them right here.)
Lesbians (I could be the Lettuce in their sandwich. But just for the sweet and cute ones. You know who you are.)
Labial (A fun "flappin' in the breeze" word that reminds me of Lab work that results in new discoveries.)
Labyrinth (Because Life is a Labyrinth complete with dead-ends and goals to not lose sight of. Plus it's a fun game where you try not to Lose your marble.)
Lachrymose (Actually it has a sad definition, but it SOUNDS funny. And that - my friends - is why it makes the List.)
Lady killer (Not in the Literal sense. What man wouldn't want to be one? Being one opens up new opportunites.)
Lactate (This one reminds me of Larry Tate from Bewitched. And he was a strange lookin' dude.)
Lagoon (Between Gilligan's Island and a Brooke Shields with breasts strategically covered by her flowing hair, who couldn't resist the Lure of the Lagoon?)
Laid (There would be no eggs for breakfast if this hadn't occurred first.)
Larch (Now if only I could be able to identify one from far away ...)
Largess (I was excited when I thought it read "Large ass". But then I Learned the definition, and I REALLY became animated. With a Largess, I could afford to purchase (or at least rent) an awful Lot of the other thing.)
Laughter (Except when it's directed at my body parts.)
Legal Age (Always ask for at least 3-forms of ID.)
Lemmings (Because they're funny, and behave NOTHING Like humans.)
Leopard Print (Both in bedspread and Lingerie form.)
Leelee and Lamby (Two blog buds who I would enjoy seeing in the items Listed immediately above.)
Libation (TGIF !)
Lying Sack of Shit (What I am, for stating that there would only be 10 items on the List to inflict on all of you.)
I hope that you enjoyed these. Feel free to do one. You know you want to, Losers. (just kidding about the "Losers" remark ... being an L-word, I had to work it in somewhere ... )
I'm still thinking about my "L" post for Reverend. And since my blog is similar to that "classic" Orson Welles wine commerical (tagline: "We shall serve no wine before its time"), I want to ensure that my posts are "twist-off cap worthy" before delivering them to the 7-11 of the publishing world.
So to temporarily satiate your whiney thirst for new crap, I thought I'd jot off a quick post to share several recent observations from my travels hither and yon.
I was mired in stop and go traffic the other day (as is often the case anymore during my travels hither and yon), struggling to distract myself from the insanity of being mired in stop and go traffic. I happened to glance over to my right, and spotted a truck hauling one of those 2-wheel auto trailers. I started thinking, wouldn't it be a refreshing change of pace here in stop and go traffic if I were to drive up onto that trailer and free myself from the worry of having to keep pace with the other motorists? Why, I could work on a crossword puzzle or even on my next post. Plus, think of the gas I would save, in addition to reducing emissions from outside of my vehicle. And if I'm subtle enough, perhaps my "host" will not notice right away.
In my endless pursuit of radical new ideas that could alter day-to-day society for the better* (* ideally), my focus recently honed in on elevators. And just what do I have in mind for improving elevator usage? One word: mirrors. Oh, and not just mirrored ceilings and floors, either. I'm talkin' mirrors on both the back elevator wall and the foyer wall that the elevator faces when the friggin' doors open. I don't know about you (and I'm not sure that I want to know, either), but I grow weary of constantly bumping into people* (* because let's face it: not everyone is attractive and equipped with large breasts) when trying to enter or exit an elevator. Have we not learned from "Dressed to Kill", people? Geez, it's been years (26, to be precise) since Angie Dickinson was slashed to death in an elevator. And since it was the only one in known existence with a mirror in it, Nancy Allen was able to spot both the body and the murderer (who was about to slash HER!) inside, and escape. And WHY? Mirrors.
3) Hotel Rooms
Do you know what they should have above the beds? Mirrors. 'Nuff said.
I can only hope that the decision-makers out there read this post, and embrace these ideas. The world will be a marginally better place for it.