Monday, February 22, 2010

Reasoned Rational Reaction

It's so hard to glimpse at Heaven
When you know you're on the path to Hell
And it is futile to understand the reasons
When the pain you know too well
And the strength that once was your armor
Becomes a prison for your soul
An empty ceramic vessel
Where violent thoughts seek control
Directionless anger battering
Against the walls of reasoned rational thought
Forcing your gaze on the things you lack
Instead of shining the spotlight on what you've got
Repetitive in the redundancy
The redundant path to dismay
I willingly walk the corridor
Try to follow
I will show the way

Friday, February 19, 2010

One Day...

One day, on the green grassy ground there stood a furry bunny named Blabbido. Why "Blabbido?" Because bunnies only speak Bunny and of course it would sound weird to you; you are a human. It sounded weird to me the first time I heard the story too.

I said "Blabbido?! What the fu..." well, you get the point. It stopped the story dead in it's tracks due to my confusion over Blabbido. I had to ask the person telling it to me to spell Blabbido for me, as I intended to make it a blog post someday. Lucky for you I am writing it instead of orally telling you so that you don't have to guess as to the proper spelling of Blabbido. One day I hope to make the tale a blog post, but I digress..

There was, on the green grassy ground, a brown furry bunny named Blabbido. I did mention he was brown before, right? Not that it is an important detail or anything, but I would hate to cause the story to pause again due to losing you so early on.

Ok, on the green grassy ground, a brown furry bunny named Blabbido hopped along a secret trail only seen by furry bunnies. It was odd that the fuzzy bunnies couldn't see it, but they were not really known for their powers of observation. This is no slight against the fuzzy bunnies I assure you; it is just that the fuzzy tends to cover the eyes. You see, fuzzy is far less manageable than furry. Even rabbits have bad hare days....get it? Fine, back to the tail. Not funny either, huh?

One day, on the green grassy ground, a brown furry bunny named Blabbido hopped along a secret trail only seen by furry bunnies when he heard a squawk from above. He looked up to see a brown feathery hawk circling above his head. Again, the color is not really relevant to the story, so don't bother remembering it or looking for some deep symbolic meaning or anything. To be honest, I think most hawks are brown.

So Blabbido sees a hawk above his head and he notices, off in the distance, is a herd of fuzzy bunnies grazing in a special "fuzzy bunny section" of the field.

I don't mean to imply the fuzzy bunnies are fat or in any way "cow-like" by my use of the words "herd" and "grazing;" I just am not sure what to call a bundle of bunnies. I guess I could have said "bundle of bunnies" in retrospect. If only there was some way to delete that and re-write it.

Anyway, unlike furry bunnies, the fuzzy bunnies did have issues with the furry bunnies and did see themselves as superior. It was not really their fault though; remember the obstructed vision problem of the fuzzy bunny.

So Blabbido, who sees a hawk above his head, runs off to join the heard of fuzzy bunnies. The fuzzy bunnies see Blabbido and run off in a bigoted panic. The hawk, let's name him Squawk, swoops down to grab Blabbido, misses and, in the chaos, grabs a fuzzy bunny for dinner instead.

Did Blabbido cause the death of the fuzzy bunny?

Did Squawk?

Did the fuzzy bunny's bigotry?

I would like 5000 words on this; double spaced; old English, by Monday. Thank you and have a great weekend.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Tuesday, February 09, 2010

The Bored Post

I am bored with nothing to do. And before you suggest it mom, there is no way in Hell I am starting any sort of cleaning project at 9:13 PM on a Monday. Actually, the Monday part is irrelevant because there really is no day I would start any sort of cleaning project at 9:13 PM. Come to think of it, the PM is not really necessary either since there is absolutely zero chance of me cleaning anything at 9:13 AM, so I guess I can just say there is no chance of any cleaning occurring at 9:13, be it day or night, rain or shine, 365 days a year. And YES, I will clean at 9:13 on a Leap Year if the mood happens to strike me and the moon is full on that night.

Based on the above, one of three distinct options has to have crossed your mind: 1) I am really bored; 2) I am not sober; 3) I am slightly disturbed mentally; or all of the abov....shit, that is four distinct options technically.

I think there are flies fucking in another room. I am going to go watch. Insect porn live and in 3D! Who can deny it?