Friday, July 31, 2009

Whoa, Bing Ching a Ling

aw, bing ching a ling

yeah, bing ching a ling

bing ching a ling

I'm gonna hafta do my thing

she's so snarky

she makes me sparkly

jumpin the sharky

dancin' in the parky

whoa-uh, bing ching a ling

yeah now, bing ching a ling

bing ching a ling

She's gonna do my thing

she want to dance in the park

she want to dance very dark

she chasin' after the quark

just like Marky Marky Mark

yes, bing ching a ling

Hey Hey Now, bing ching a ling

bing ching a ling

ching a ling bing bing

bing ching a ling

bing ching a ling

bing ching a ling

bing bing bing bing

Monday, July 27, 2009

Spontaneous Poem

Everything goes dark and explodes in a vacuum of tragedy, humdrum and filth

Wham! There it go!
Mostly the spinning cylinders of transition spin before me like pinwheels of crumbling ambiance

Idiot packaging / smoothly irradiated / coils of satin steel and rock / my own perfect brainemptiness / happening silent smudges of laughter erupts simultaneous with spurting volcanic islands

"Senator, can you pass me that basket of large-denomination bills?" "Here, help yourselves, don't be shy! There's plenty more where that came from!"

the cascading bubbles of a forgotten multiverse ching together like cheap finger cymbals and I dream idly of Bonomo's Turkish Taffy, neither turkish, nor taffy but resolutely Bonomo's

The unruly centaur charges through the living rooms of the vapid, a TV strapped to his broad back as he watches "New Jersey Housewives" over his shoulder while running full tilt into the strobing gloom of reality, following the march of stupidity into the dense fog indoor atmosphere of the freely-associating moron union building

The End

Muy Importante Picture - View while listening to random surf instrumentals (emphasis on 'mental')

Hm, it must be important for me to understand these drawings, and yet I don't. It looks like the guy on the right is a referee. I can't work out who or why the other guy is, but it seems like they both got ill at the same time for some reason. What can that reason be? I don't know, me. Perhaps you know these things? Perhaps? Question?

The difference between 'one thing' and 'another' is 'something else'

Well, I hear my brain a comin'

Comin' down that railroad track

Well now, I hear my brain a comin'

It's bringing my consciousness back

My ideation left me, left me here in misery

My ideation left be bereft and bankrupt

With nary an Idee, moanin' like Harper Lee

Now I hear my ideation comin' back

On that big steel horse, comin' back to me

Well now, I hear my brain a comin'

Hear my brain

Hear my brain

Hear my brain a comin' on back to me

Oo-wah, oo-wah, oo-wah

O, I'se be troublin' here all by myself

Just a shotgun shack and fillers in my pack

My brain done left me and I don't know why

Papa Oo-Mow-Mow, my brain is gone away

But now its comin' home I hears it on dis train

Monday, July 6, 2009

Bailin' with Palin / Fireworks in Flemington NJ

Bailin' with Palin
1. If you quit, no one can be disappointed with what you do (because you won't do it)
2. She's quitting to help Alaska and the US
3. "Caribou Barbie" pin-up posters anyone?
4. Stop the "Politics of Personal Destruction", Palin wasn't "Pallin' around with terrorists", after all.
5. No more "gotcha" journalism, she's no got.
Flemington Fireworks
Man were these boss!
1. Glowing Turban of Fire
2. Sidesnorkel Sizzle Blaster
3. Recombinant Twirling Arc Monster
4. Contraboom fidelity cannister
5. Puzzle Flower of Destruction
6. Mayhem Accelerator of Death
7. Smoke Chisel Face Warmer
and thats just a few of the spectacular fireworks blown off in Flemington for the Fourth of July. Dude, I know: I was there!

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Daffy Duck for President

What irony! The duck is the best man for the job. He will be our second black president. Think of it. If we don't like what he's doing, we get him re-written. Perfectimundo.

Now, you know, I usually don't go out on a limb and shill for a presidential candidate - well, I did go for Donald Duck back at the time of Bill Lewinsky's second term, but here is a compelling candidate. Imagine him working "Thufferin' Thuckatash!" into a State of the Union Address. ADMIRABLE.

After all, this candidate does have the best vice presidential candidate, Bugs Bunny, up his sleeve. Imagine the freaking drama at the national presidential nominating convention when our intrepid candidate announces, "Now, ladies and germs, my Vice Presidential choice, Missther BUGS BUNNY!" The place would literally go up for grabs.


Wednesday, July 1, 2009

today's lunch poem is about the little fellers

Through dense whirlwings of discontinuity the little fellers run abstractly
Idiopathically, they disassociate Jack Dupree Reality in legions of
Little Fellers’ ambidextrate Sarcophagi
As the dumbification planks down before their fleet feet ensquadroned indecipherably
While cantankerous commands through the shifting ambiguity
Ranges inadvertent to the plagues of the strange, home on the range
Them Little fellers little feet little known little less else throttling forces of ragged time
Bestich them disconsolate in their rummaged snafus as down up they go a sidewise slope
Confusion rapidly moving through the shards of a reality turned stem-wise upon
The plant of all things. But “Wait, don’t shut the door until the little fellers git in!”

The airflow clogged the splintered pillow filled w/ rock and rubble the upwardly thrusting landform opposed by its own volcanic origin the humble massive creature lumbering up by the stool holding the optical trance machine

Sun offering a sunset sunsetting over suns settling
As the rabid trash aches its discovery against
The pilgrim daylight while the little fellers ramble by

Shook, the shaken tree at the breach of time!
Outerly fitted in somnolent silence
Goofily the little farmer found the little fellers flagging by
Ever ranging the flaming fields.