Below are two haikus. The first one is written by Bob Deck, who posts at least one a day on his twitter account. His Twitter account name is bdeck. The second haiku is my response to his.
Email offer boasts
“Luxury Bronze Spray Sculpt Tan”
stupid as I look?
Your body now bronze
Success and neighbor envy.
Talk in muted tones.
Filed under bronze, call and response, fun, haiku, humor, poem, poetry, Random Access Thoughts, Random thought, tan, word play, words, writing
The blathering idiot stood in her kitchen listening to his sometime girlfriend Zelda debating with Xenia, her daughter, about which would be worse an invasion of aliens or an attack of zombies. Zelda said the invasion of aliens would be worse with their ray guns and flying saucers and killer robot armies. Xenia said it would be zombies because they looked “just like us, but would eat our brains out.”
The debate went on for another ten minutes or so, the blather idiot dozing off as he learned against the counter. Snatches of his head popping off, rotating fast, and zooming away like a flying saucer filled his snoozing, so he kept waking up.
Finally, to end the debate, they turned to him.
Domestic Dispute on a Cosmic Scale
“Which one, what?”
“Aliens?” Zelda asked.
“Or Zombies?” Xenia asked.
Now his head was really spinning. He couldn’t answer. He didn’t really care. It wasn’t even Halloween, so what did it matter?
They stared at him. He felt a rivulet of sweat run down the side of his neck.
It was like asking him to choice between toast with crunchy peanut butter and toast with smooth peanut butter. He liked them both. He also liked other things on his toast. Why did nobody even ask about the toast?
After what seemed like a day, Xenia harrumphed and left the table.
Zelda stood up, shook her head, and said, “Typical.”
She then turned and walked away from him.
That night, while sleeping along, the blathering idiot was visited by an alien ghost that told him he must decide or else. It was hard to understand the alien because of all the high-pitched tones and squeaks.
He woke up lying cross ways over his bed; it squeaked as her pulled himself around into the proper position.
When he went back to sleep, he was visited by a zombie ghost that told him, as best a zombie could, having no brain and all, that he had to use his head and make a decision. He woke up with part of his pillow in his mouth.
After that, he couldn’t sleep. He wondered if there were really aliens out there who might swoop down and invade the Earth, or even just his house. And zombies, well, while he was fairly sure they weren’t real, one could never be 100 percent sure about such things. After all, there were werewolves. He’d seen one at a carnival when he was six.
The blathering idiot went to the bathroom, and while looking in the mirror tried to figure out what was going on. He turned on the small light next to the sink and as it shined up on his face, he stared in the mirror. His pale face looked as if he had died. Pale, blank stare from empty eyes, he reached up and removed a piece of his pillow from his mouth. He then tried to speak, to say something to calm himself, but when he did, only a short squeak came out. It was then that he knew what his answer was.
He couldn’t wait to tell Zelda and Xenia. Neither could be disappointed in him.
When he got to their house, he walked inside and into the kitchen, and made his announcement. “It’s neither aliens nor zombies that I would fear,” he said. “It is alien zombies who would come to Earth, eat the Earth zombies and then starting eating the regular girls and mothers.”
First Xenia and then Zelda looked up at him and smiled. “We’re past that,” they said in unison. “Now we’re trying to figure out who would be a better kisser, an angel or a vampire? What do you think?”
Marriage of Socialism and Satan blamed for bizarre barrage of bad press over sandwich give away by Pennsylvania franchise.
Prayers called for by all right-minded Christians in the Chicken Sandwich Slinger’s hour of need. “Don’t get caught waffling,” one supporter intoned, “or you will fry in Hell.”
No official comment from the poultry wing of the political spectrum. Some say they have been bullied into submission and cower at the thought of speaking up for fear of being squawked. “We have decided to lay low on this one,” an inside source said, speaking anonymously on background. “This entire situation is all fowled up.”
“This is not egg-actly what we had hoped for,” C.T., founder and president of Chicken Sandwich Slinger, said when asked about it two weeks ago. “But we stand behind our independent franchise slinger’s actions in offering free sandwiches to legally married couples. Man and woman couples. We prayed about it and have decided to carry this idea nationwide and will be offering one free Chicken Slinger’s Sandwich to couples holding a valid marriage license.”
Unsubstantiated reports show an increase in online requests for ministers’ licenses, with the largest spikes appearing in the San Francisco, New York, and Atlanta areas. When asked about this, 84-year-old C.T. said it was “a feather in our cap,” if the increases were due to his promotional idea. “We’ll yet put the gay ol’ time back into marriage,” he said. “Even if we have to do it one Chicken Slinger’s Sandwich at a time.”
There was no immediate response from the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender Alliance.
More details as they become available.
Filed under bird, Cartoon, child, humor, Philosopher, Random Access Thoughts, Uncategorized
If money were no object
Filed under blathering idiot, Cartoon, figment, humor, imagination, paycheck, satire, word play, words, writing
# I live in my own little world but it’s OK, everyone knows me here.
# I don’t do drugs ’cause I find I get the same effect just by standing up really fast.
# Money can’t buy happiness but it sure makes misery easier to live with.
# If flying is so safe, why do they call the airport the “terminal”?
# I don’t approve of political jokes. I’ve seen too many of them get elected.
# The most precious thing we have is life, yet it has absolutely no trade-in value.
# I am a nobody; nobody is perfect, and therefore I am perfect.
# No one ever says, “It’s only a game!” when their team is winning.
# How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you’re on.
The blathering idiot went to work for an advanced scientific and technology firm. One day, when he passes the door of a leading scientist of the firm, he found a note tacked to the door.
Upon further examination, he saw it was not a note, but a memo, on official company letterhead, from the legal firm that this company used when discussing patent and invention issue.
In short, the memo said: All discoveries must be registered with this firm before they are discovered. All inventions must be registered with this firm before they are invented. No patents will be issued unless the proper form has been filled out in triplicate and registered with this firm. We must be notified at least six months in advance of any discoveries, inventions, ideas, or potentially patentable issues. Those who fail to follow this memo will be properly punished.
After all, he needed the work.
Filed under absurdity, blathering idiot, Cartoon, Commentary, discovery, humor, idea, satire, words, writing
“Buying the right computer and getting it to work properly is no more complicated than building a nuclear reactor from wristwatch parts in a darkened room using only your teeth.” —Dave Barry
To learn more about Dave Barry, American writer and humorist, go to Dave Berry’s Official Website
Buying the right computer is often a challenge.
In this world of hi-tech, I have noticed that many who text message and email, have forgotten the “art” of capitalization. Those of you who fall into this world, please take note of the following statement.
I cannot stress enough that capitalization is important.
Capitalization is the difference between…
… helping your Uncle Jack off a horse.
or
… helping your uncle jack off a horse.
End of lesson
Filed under absurdity, capitalization, humor, words, writing, writing tip
Booker's Blog 
Sign of times: Quality Used Furniture
While the photo is not the clearest it could be, in its own way it may match the hand-painted sign that reads “Quality Used Furniture,” and underneath it are sections of firewood. Could the sign be referring to the birds that once nested in the tree’s branches? To the squirrels, rodents though they may be, that once frolicked about from sturdy limb to sturdy limb as they ventured forth from their squirrel nest? Or is this type of furniture what is meant by rustic or roughing it? Possibly this is a Platonic set of furniture. Furniture glimpsed obliquely and incompletely in its state of perfection.
What do you think it is? Make up your own caption and send it my way. I may list the most interesting ones.
The sign read: Quality Used Furniture
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Filed under bird, Commentary, furniture, humor, nature, Plato, sign of the times, tree, Uncategorized, word play, words, writing
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