Well Here's a Change...

I promised you changes and I guess the first one was silence!  That is a change for anyone who knows me, I am not usually silent about anything.  At any time.  Tongue biting is not my MO.

I have decided that September's poems will be a take on a child's poetry form: Alphabet poems.  So the first line will start with any particular letter, and sequential lines will follow the alphabet.  Not too challenging, I know, but hopefully fun.

All blogged out for a while
But I'm rebuilding my literary guile.

Citizens of the internet, used to my rants
Demanded my return with spirited chants:

"Enlighten us about the world!" as
Flags with my face were widely unfurled.

Grateful merchants making tons of cash
Hocking wares with my face printed on recycled trash.*

My face is on here, but that part isn't showing yet.

Ok actually four out of five dentists didn't give a rat's bikini bottom where I was, but I girl can dream, can't she?

* I am soooooo green.  Thank that sustainable bamboo floors and Priuses...Prii...hybrid cars!

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Blogging For This Announcement

Look people, I have some announcements to make.  First of all, I am no longer trying to blog daily.  It was causing some problems (namely that I would have to finish last week's blog entry before I could post the next four that are finished...also stress, lots of stress) and was making me post some crap just so I'd have something to post.

But all of you literary dung beetles don't fret, I will still be posting a lot (and therefore a lot of crap) so I'll try and maintain the status quo with an unnoticeable step down in production.  Also if you remember the point of this blog was to write frequently to polish my writing skills.  I'm not sure that my writing is exactly coated in turtle wax at this point, but blogging is a lot cheaper than than therapy so PJ is still productive for me.

Just thought I'd let you know.

It is time for some
Existential blog changes
Stay posted for more...

Hypo-crazy (A Poetic Jabber-Wonky Rant)

You know I like to take this blog on an occasional road trip to political-ville where I usually stop on opinion hill to have a nice picnic.  Well pack the car kids, we're going on a ride.

Normally, I like to represent many sides of a debate, ok or maybe not.  But either way, my blood is boiling about the group opposing the Islamic community center near Ground Zero.  They have a ridiculous name created from a string of words that have nothing to do with this effort (American Freedom Defense Initiative) but I refuse to use that name because it is insulting to my intelligence and it doesn't even have a good acronym.  Instead, I decided to string together my own sequence of random words to describe them: Righteous American Country Initiative and Salvation from Tyrrany Statesmen.  I quite like it.  For the sake of brevity I will just call them RACISTS.

I'll start off to say that I already disagree with the argument that putting the center there desecrates the memory of those who died on 9-11.  I think most of all that this argument shows a complete and total lack of understanding of who perpetrated the 9-11 attacks.  And maybe basic mathematics.

First: the people who masterminded and carried out the attacks do not represent all Muslims.  There are literally millions of Muslims in the United States.  American Muslims or Muslims in general are not the same as the 9-11 attackers.  Within those millions of American Muslims there may be a handful that sympathize or even join the attackers in ideology, but to let that infinitesimal percentage to represent your entire idea of mosque-going Muslims is preposterous.

It would be like saying all Christians wear too much makeup because of Tammy Faye Baker.  Or all dogs are vicious because of Cujo.  Or all actors deny the Holocaust and have anger management problems.  Are ya with me, people?

Second: The 9-11 attackers hated Americans because of the many freedoms that we have in this country thanks to our Constitution, many of which conflict with their strict way of life.  So let's exercise some of those freedoms by, ya know, letting some religion happen!

Then others argue "Look, I'm not unreasonable but building the mosque will upset some other folks who are unreasonable so it isn't worth the risk."  Since when do the reasonable people have to defer to the unreasonable people solely because of their inability to see reason?  How about this, we just build it and the unreasonable people have to deal with our reasonableness.

The thing that really set me off today though, was the anti-mosque movement's reaction to a decision on their transit advertising.  I'll try and sum up the facts but keep in mind this ain't a news paper and I am working on a staff of one extremely part-time person, an old laptop, and two dogs (neither of whom write very good copy.)  The anti-mosque people wanted to run this ad on New York city buses and subways.  The transit authority said no.  Then the anti-mosque people sued, saying their first amendment rights have been stomped on.  The transit authority reluctantly allows the ads. The anti-mosque people rejoice because the Constitution has prevailed to protect citizen's rights.

So if I was going to whiteboard this out:

First Amendment of the Constitution -> Freedom of Speech -> Government can't regulate my speech with a PFC (pretty freakin' compelling) reason

But also:

First Amendment of the Constitution -> Freedom of Religion -> Government can't regulate my exercise of religion without a PFC (pretty freakin' compelling) reason

So basically the one leg the anti-mosque people have to stand on for their pro-advertisements argument is the exact same leg they have been giving a Tonya Harding to in the anti-mosque argument.

To me that is beyond hypocrisy, it is hypo-CRAZY.

Building your tree house
In the exact tree you chop
For building lumber.

[Ed Note: a shout out to AVR for coming up with the idea of Poetic Jabber-wonky as a combination of Poetic Jabberwocky and the blog Wonkette which publishes edge political commentary.]

Adios Mexico!

The Mexico trip ended very nicely with a relaxing weekend with my sister and BIL (Bro in Law) including  some swimming in mind-blowing waters like this:

Going to crazy iguana/snake/crocodile/dog/bird zoos and holding adolescent crocs:

 

And enjoying insane sunsets like this:

 

But seriously, I hope that post-work happy hour you went to was fun, your doctor appointment went well, and your weekend of closet cleaning was productive.  Cause that's cool too.

Boredom with your life
Exacerbated by my
Amazing photos.

Where Have All The Bellboys Gone?

Our hotel/resort in Mexico is ridiculously nice.  Every single person who works here says hello and helps you no matter what kind of problem you have.  No one would conceive of saying "that is not my department" or even "try the guy over there, he can help you."  Ever employee of this hotel takes ownership of our comfort and satisfaction.

I hate to bring this sentiment down but we just don't have that in the US anymore.  Everyone, even customer service reps and concierges demand respect rather than earning it.  I think the perfect system is always treat everyone with respect but to expect to earn your respect from others.  But many Americans don't use this system anymore, they walk around in a bubble of rights.  Rights to be served, treated a certain way, right to be first or most.  Some rights though, are not born with you like your hair color or first name.  They are earned.  Like muscular abs.

Either way, I am enjoying a break from American me-ism.  Or maybe it's just that this is how the rich people live.  That I haven't earned the right to know, not yet anyway.

Exacting standards
In serving clients...it's so
Unamerican.

Isla Mujeres

Today we took a ferry to Isla Mujeres which is a lovely little island that was approximately the temperature of the sun today.  Mas or menos.

We rented a golf cart and took off at the speed of wind (a very slow wind that barely rustles leaves) around the island.  Isla Mujeres is small and luckily we did not run out of gas or electricity or cow manure, whatever it was that made that cart go.  I thought about the kind of people who retire to places like this.  There was nothing there to bother you, but then again there was no place to buy comfortable underwear or decent groceries either.  It is a different lifestyle than I have ever experienced and it intrigued me.

We made it all the way to Punta Sur (or the Southern Point for you non-Spanish speakers) and there was a really nice sculpture garden with amazing views of the ocean.  Here's a taste:

Then we got back on our semi-trusty golf cart and made our way back.  We decided to walk around a little big and found this very out of the way little cafe where we stopped for a late lunch.

I had tacos and a pina colada and in addition to an enchilada, Jennifer consumed one of these puppies:

We pondered snorkeling before we left, but Jen proclaimed "a few more sips of this margarita and we can snorkel in the pool and I'll still see all kinds of cool fish."  So we came back across on the ferry and now we're resting up for a big day of Mayan ruins tomorrow.


Excruciating
How we missed the golf cart's breeze
Standing by the sea

GONE TO...

...Here

No joke, I took that picture from our hotel.  That is a what sunset looks like where I am, no hallucinogenics required.

Here is our room, it's the one with the light on.  Kind of like a Motel 6 except a tragillion times nicer and we will NOT actually keep the light on for you.  Come on man, I need my beauty sleep.

You may be thinking "Sha, but what when you leave the property?  Will it still be as nice as all that?"  And I tell you dear friend, I do not know since I have not yet had reason to leave.  Zing!

Also, this month's poetry type will be haiku containing a word that contains "ex" or the letter X to celebrate some time in mEXico.  Just think of it as "This month's poetry, brought you to by the letter X."

Dreams in Mexico
Still about the bar exam
but with sunburn pain.

I DID IT!

I passed finishing the bar exam!  That is how I am going to look at it.  Some people fail at finishing but I finished so I passed at finishing the bar exam.  Now I must wait months to find out if I passed the actual bar exam.  Oh joy.

Good news though:  I am going to spend a week of that 3.5ish months in Mexico relaxing.  Take that world!

Maggot Study Break

Hi!

Ok, bejeebles, don't look at me like that.  I took one break to surf the net.  An hour ago.  But who is counting?

But I post because I wish I was this funny...  Please note this is a total reversal of my earlier opinions of this fellow's* writing.  Well not a total reversal, maybe he should stick to writing about actual maggot crap instead of using ridiculous phrases like maggot crap to refer to local politicians.

Ok I'm going back to torts and suits now.  Stop judging.

*Notice how I say "this fellow" because he probably Googles himself.  I'm so internet savvy.  Now I just hope he can't figure out who is linking to his blog entries.

Toyot-oh-no-you-didn't

Who the eff works in Toyota marketing?

I am a little behind the times but did you know that Toyota changed their motto to "moving forward" sometime before today but after they started having problems with their brakes.  As in, drivers could not stop their Toyota vehicles from moving forward.

I have thought up a few more award-winning slogans
BP: We're operating in the black, and now you are too!
Ford Pinto: Try riding in one, it's a blast!
AOL Dial up: You'll spend all your time on our internet service!
Asbestos: Our insulation keeps out the highway's death prattle.
Pixy Stix: We wouldn't let a juvenile diet beat us. (Diat-bet-es...anyone?)

Red Rider BB Gun: Our safety control has crossed their Ts and dotted their eye.

Now to cap it all off, here is an outstanding piece of invisible poetry:






Ha!  Now, wasn't that fantastic?

Movies and Dreams

In passing today, I saw a preview for some really crappy movie (I already don't remember which one) and the said something like "The most sexy fun you will have all summer!" and I thought to myself, that is probably true.

How sad is this story?  I had a dream the other night that I was competing in a Miss America-like competition and the announcer accused me of really being a man.  The whole audience was laughing at me.  I was there on the stage, the recipient of everyone's mockery and disgust and I was perfectly happy.  Because I was running through the elements of defamation and invasion of privacy thinking what a wonderful case I had.

Nothing can help me now.

July is Stress Month!

This month I am studying for the bar exam so the theme is....drum roll please...invisible poetry!  That's right folks, it's not like I'm punking out and not writing poetry, it's just that you can't see it.

In fact, I've been blogging daily since July 1st, can't you see it?  The emperor DOES have clothes on, dangit!

Sincerely,
Your favorite stressball.

Funny Legal Phrases Update

[Post for Monday, June 16th]

I have an extremely immature update to the posting about my favorite legal terms that are not as funny as they sound.  One of the awful things about Barbri is that you have to learn classes in several hours that you had never taken in law school.  One of the wonderful things is that you are exposed to all different kinds of the law.  One of the better things about about the wonderful things is that I have expanded my knowledge of funny legal phrases.  And I have one to add.

Dry Hole Provision: this has nothing to do with premarital agreements, in case you were wondering.  (Gross, I know!)  A dry hole provision is an oil and gas term that means if a lessor drills for oil and blah blah blah blah DRY HOLE!  Enough said.

Dry hole.   A way out that works like a fire exit you are so glad you built.  Like decoy a phone call to get you out of a bad date. 

Free Financial Advice

[Entry for Monday, June 7]

Look, I am not trying to depress the crap out of you but here is how much your investing strategy sucks: you should have invested in forever stamps.

Facts:

In April 2007, you could have bought one share of Google stock instead for about $458 (not including fees or minimum purchases).  That share would be worth $485 today.  That is a rate of return of about 6% (total, I'm not calculating the annualized rate of return for here you folks.  I do have somewhat of a life.).

Heck, you could have purchased one single share of Berkshire Hathaway for $108,000 in April 2007 and on May 18th it would be worth $113,300.  That is a return of a little less than 5% and that is saying something  because I think Warren Buffett is a effing financial genius.

"Oh my dear," you may say in a patronizing tone while adjusting your monocle "I invest solely in real estate."  Yea, well do you know of any of the properties you own give a higher return than those stocks, net of tax, repair, maintenance and administration costs?  I doubt it.  It turns out you are a little more Mr. Peanut and a little less Mr. Monopoly.

Here is where you are really going to start kicking yourself: in April 2007, you could have purchased 100 forever stamps for $37.  Today those stamps would be worth $44.  That is a rate of return of 19%.

So if you really want to beat up on your financial adviser (not that this market hasn't done that enough) you should call and discuss these figures with him or her.  In the meantime I propose this new marketing slogan for forever stamps:

Forever stamps.  
Like the Statute of Liberty's head found on a beach in a foreign monkey world.  As stubborn as Mayan ruins that will never fall.  As solid as the foundation in the buildings you own is not.
Forever.  Stamps.

My Favorite Legal Terms That Sound Funnier Than They Are

[Entry for Sunday, June 6]

I've often started off with a lawyer joke, a complete caricature of a lawyer who's been nasty, greedy, and unethical. But I've stopped that practice. I gradually realized that the lawyers in the audience didn't think the jokes were funny and the non-lawyers didn't know they were jokes.

-Chief Justice William Rehnquist

I am studying for the bar exam now, and so I am going to be writing about more legal things.  Just live with it.  Today I'm writing about my six favorite legal terms that sound like something funny.  Get that drum set ready for some rim shots!

Pro bono
Actual Legal meaning: to work for the public good rather than for profit or personal interest.
I don't think I have to explain why this particular Latin term provokes giggles.  And it's super flexible, you can use it in at least two different ways.  One: Why do you think Craig is charging that hot blonde for her divorce?  I think he has taken that case pro bono if you know what I mean.   Two: I took the case defending the pornographic theater because I'm 100% pro bono.  Either way, good times.

Hung Jury 
Actual legal meaning: A jury that cannot reach a verdict by the required voting margin.
Possible misapplication would go "Did you see that group of twelve Chip n' Dale guys at Julie's bachelorette party?  [I think you see where I am going with this...]"

Preexisting duty
Actual legal meaning:  A duty that one party has to another party that arose in the past.  For example, Joe hires Mike to mow his lawn next week for $50.  Joe pays Mike the $50.  Before Mike mows the lawn he asks Joe for another $10 and Joe refuses.  Mike still has to mow the lawn because he has a preexisting duty.
Another note about preexisting duty, this is why my roommate and I call it when Ty, the puppy, leaves us a smelly little gift and we don't find it until later.

Penal Anything
Penal is a word used to describe anything that pertains to punishment for a crime.  I don't think I have to explain why this is funny.  It works to create double entendre with pretty much any phrase.  Penal transportation (the job of a jock strap?), penal populism (very low in lesbian communities), penal colonies (wonder why they declared independence?), penal code (similar to the bro code?).  I could go on and on and on.*

Attractive Nuisance
Of all the phrases I have learned in law school, this is the one I have made the focus of the most jokes.  If you don't know at least seventeen people who could be classified as attractive nuisances, then you aren't hanging out at the right clubs/bars/grocery stores/dating websites.
For the record, an attractive nuisance is a dangerous condition on land that may attract children and then injure them.  Much more boring than what you were imagining.

Attenuated taint
This is, by a large margin, my favorite legal phrase that sounds gross.  Taint has its the regular literal meaning, the trace of something bad.  Taint is often used in terms of bad things done that make a search illegal.  For instance, if a police officer searches a house without consent, a search warrant, or probable cause, the search is tainted.  However, when the tainted activity is done so far back in a long chain of events, the taint is said to be attenuated and sometimes doesn't not make the product of search illegal.
Now, there is also another meaning for taint that you are more likely to find in urban dictionary than Webster's dictionary.  Because of this my seventh grade mind could not keep quiet.
I had a criminal procedure professor who said attenuated taint so many times that I had to excuse myself from the the classroom.  In my defense, I sat in the front row and he had a hand motion of drawing something out that went along with the phrase.


Like a volcano of laughter waiting to explode.
In a courtroom that is solemn as a funeral.
One giggle leaks out, like a drop of water falling from the bathroom faucet long after the house is empty.

* Thanks to my extreme immaturity

Joyce-T (Just?) When You Thought Baseball Was Boring

I forgot when I had a massage booked the other day.  I was cleaning the house and just didn't go.  I was so bummed since I had been gearing up for that massage for a week.  The worst part was that I had a gift certificate but reserved the spot on my credit card so I had to pay for a phantom massage I wasn't even planning on paying for in the first place.  That I didn't even get.  How very annoyed I was about my mistake.

A big thank you to Jim Joyce who reminded me how big a screw up can really be.  The poor umpire made what was apparently a terrible call (I didn't see it) which prevented Armando Gallaraga from going down in the record books as one of only a couple dozen perfect game. 

The notable thing about this whole debacle was that the umpire, Jim Joyce, immediately and totally admitted his error and apologized.  I love that!  No one apologizes anymore.  Thanks to lawyers, PR officers, mothers-in-law, and various other bossy times, no one is free to apologize openly anymore.  I love that this dude just came out and said he botched the call and the consequence of that was Gallaraga missing out on his perfect game.  He didn't make any excuses, just said he it was the most important call of his career and he got it wrong.

I find that so refreshing!


Like a bell that can't be unsounded.
One moment can seem like a huge whale swallowing you again every time you turn on SportsCenter.
Really puts into perspective those small mistakes which are much more like guppies in the ocean.

Ty-me To Learn!

Is there anything more annoying than house training an obstinate puppy? My puppy Tayau has grown into a some kind of freak urine factory.  If only we could use this technology to produce energy, a majority of the world's problems would be remedied.

The thing is, Ty is no longer the cute little puppy who piddles. Now he pees. He pees on my roommate's rug, or the living room rug, on the kitchen floor, and yesterday in a misguided attempt in the guest bathroom.  If this continues it will soon have to be classified as piss which is a word I generally don't use.  But I feel it conveys the correct amount of animosity.

I am just happy when he stands still. The "walking pee" is both difficult to spot and tedious to clean up.  My back has a semi-permanent curve in it from cowering over the floor with a rag and a bottle of Nature's Miracle (whose primary miracle is the severe increase in sales since March.)

The good news is that he has learned how to give you his paw, or shake.  So at least he can ruin my hardwood floors like a gentleman now. 

Before Ty, my friends would call me the dog whisperer. Now I have morphed into the dog screamer.

Little puppy. 
Leaking like a gulf coast oil rig. 
As sneaky as neighborhood kids who run up to your doorstep and light a bag of feces on fire, but less funny. 
Cute as a button, like a really adorable button that you might find on a baby's sweater. 
But sometimes debatably not worth the trouble, like pantyhose.

Uncle Fred

Several days ago was my Uncle Fred's birthday.  Just a note about my Uncle Fred, he is just plain lovely.  If everyone ever agreed on the correct way to spell certain laughs (Ah ha ha! or Ahaha!, the debate continues) then those words could finally be included in the dictionary, and several of them would say See Fred Time.

I had lunch with him last week and, as usual, he was a pleasure to be around.  One of my favorite things about him is when someone helps him out, a clerk at the courthouse or a waiter at a restaurant he is generous enough to tell them "Good job.  Go ahead, take the rest of the day off."  Any old shmuck can give his employees the day off but Uncle Fred gives other people's employees the day off.  Now that is a good man.

Here is a very happy birthday poem for Uncle Fred:

Fred
Treats his bike like the Proud Mary, whose big wheels seldom stopped.
Always there to say a nice word, like a fortune cookie.
Eternally as happy as a trucker who just won three grand in the lottery.
And as kind as the neighbor's dog who decides to poop in the yard next door.
Supporting you for every hour of the day you are awake like a Playtex Cross Your Heart bra.
Always seeing the good side of things, like Oprah's front windshield.
And as deeply loved as government holidays.

DO NOT PANIC! It Will Only Attract the Worm.

Look, I don't mean to alarm you but I'm pretty sure we are all about to be eaten by a huge space worm.

You may not have heard about this because the international space worm lobby (ISWL) has been spending lots of cash keeping it under wraps but the entire planet of Jupiter is currently missing a gas ring. The hard working ISWL must have also had the name "gas rings" changed to "cloud stripes" presumably to avoid flatulence jokes and make it seem more innocuously Martha Stewart-y.  Anyway, gas rings or cloud stripes do not get up and move themselves.  Live space animals do.

I admit that the extent of my astrological knowledge is derived from third grade when we had to make a model of the planets using Styrofoam, wire, and markers but I can tell you Jupiter is pretty freakin big.  There are all kinds of statistics on the size of Jupiter (and its rings) in comparison to Earth but let me graphically boil it down for you:

In this widely-used diagram, the dog is Earth and the lady is Jupiter.

In third grade astrology we also did not cover why a planet's gas rings would just disappear.  Originally I thought this was omitted from the curriculum for the usual reasons (Have you heard?  In Texas social studies, history, and science are "discovered" via School Board vote) but I was wrong.  I just read that no scientist today has any idea why the ring would disappear. There are NO WORKING THEORIES ON THIS!  If there is one thing scientists like to do it is create unprovable theories and discuss them over nerd coffee.  But no one dares wax philosophical about the obvious reason for these rings disappearance (space worm has moved.)

"Oh, come on now, everyone calm down and take off those ridiculous tin foil hats!"  I picture scientists saying.*  "This has happened before and it is no big deal."  No biggie?  Tell that to Pluto!  Yea, don't think I forgot about that little gem of a story, space scientists!  All of a sudden Pluto is not big enough to be a planet?  Yea, 'cause a huge space worm took a bite out of it!

I don't know about you but there are only several people I trust to tell me about what is going on in the world of nature and astronomy and if you take a cue from them, it isn't looking so good.

1. Al Gore, expert on why weird things are happening with the world: Separating from wife who supported him through presidential victory in name only followed by weight gain and creeper beard.  Why would he leave her?  Classic end of world behavior!
2. Carl Sagan, expert on the billions and billions of stars in the cosmos:  Viewed his last planet in 1996 when he went to that big cosmos in the sky (is that confusing?) probably to check out of Earth before being consumed by space worm.
3. Captain Kirk, knows the cosmos like the back of many alien women's kissed hands: Starring in TV show based on facebook page which is based on a Twitter account about some guy's dad.  Classic "will not have to answer for this later" behavior!

I don't really know what to tell you to do except call your insurance company and add space worm coverage to your policy.  Then go ahead and pop open that bottle of Dom you were saving for your husband's promotion.  The only upward movement he will be a part of has to do with the intestines of a worm.**

Space worms.
Forced to leave home to find food or starve like a law student during exams.
With stomach growls like earthquakes shaking the foundation of our world.

Taking another look at our world which is less green and more toasty than before, like fried okra.
Licking its lips and preparing to strike before reassuming its position around Jupiter as hula hoop would circle an obese schoolkid.

* Seriously, you look ridiculous, take it off.
** So gross, I know.

Happy June Everyone!!

June's literary device is the simile! Simile is defined as a figure of speech in which two unlike things are explicitly compared, as in “she is like a rose.”  I am going to enjoy this month because many similes use the word "like" which I believe is generally overused today (by many people, myself included) so I am going to use this month to cleanse my writing of all incorrect uses of like by carefully examine blog entries, like a mother carefully checking her child's hair for lice.  See how lovely this can be?

[Ed. Note: The image above was located via google images and taken from a blog that took the image from somewhere else via google images.  Ah the electronic circle of life!  You should check out the blogger's entry on simile which has some outstanding examples of terrible simile as above.]

Simile.
A more clearly indicated metaphor, like a neon sign hanging above a hole in the wall bar.
Making it clear from the onset that, as in a car's side mirror, things may not be as they appear.
Allowing Burns to tell us his love "is like a red, red rose."
While your love, Bon Jovi explains, is like bad medicine.
 

The Check is in the Mail!

[Ed. Note: I am moving forward!  Look below to see all of the posts that I had written but finally finished editing, and I will be posting new stuff going forward!]

My current excuse for being behind: Exams!  Wish me luck.

Are You Smarter Than An Infomercial?

[Ed. note: A shout out to Jas who told me about this video.]

Someone out there in the world spent time splicing together all of the "before" scenes from infomercials.  And God bless this person.  If you ever are having a bad day, please drop whatever you are doing and view this video.  No matter how bad your day is, at least you can do things like wear a blanket, crack an egg into a pan, walk past a garden hose without tripping, and remove your own shoes, just to name a few.



Some individual's incredible ineptitude
Putting into perspective
Your feeble failures.

Gabourey Sidibe

Look, I'm going to be honest with you. If you don't want to be friends with Gabourey Sidibe then your parents definitely dropped you on your head as a baby. More than once.

She hosted Saturday Night Live last night and this was one of my favorite skits of hers.  Even as this old lady, the let's-hang-out-and-be-friends-ness of her shines through. 



I also love how on the Oscars red carpet she said it was like "prom for hollywood."  And check out the first thirty seconds of her Ellen interview with that dance, which she later said her friend choreographed with her in case she was ever a guest on Ellen's show.



But the best story of all is when Billy Bush of [whatever annoying celebrity-obsessed "news" show] was interviewing her on the Oscars red carpet and they were talking about attractive actor Gerard Butler who was approaching.  Gabourey (not realizing he was there) says to Bush about Butler "I'd hit that!"

I almost peed my pants out of sheer hilarity right then, but Billy Bush misses this comment and brings Butler over.  Then you can tell a producer recounts the comment to Bush because he puts his hand to his ear and says "What?  No she didn't." Then Bush asks Gabourey to repeat her comment in front of Butler and so she does.  They end the exchange with her joking that they should get a bottle of champagne and see where the night goes.  Totally classic.

I feel a little like I just retold a story from seventh grade recess but just watch the video, ok?

Glorious Gabourey
Knows the supreme thing to say
True talent, it's been said
But it never goes her head.

Bushing Ourselves To Be Better

I heard President Bush and his wife Laura speak today at SMU in an event that was likely a mini-promotion for the George Bush Presidential Center. The Bushes were recipients of a medal that the SMU Tower Center for political studies gives in conjunction with the Tate Lecture Series in conjunction with the SMU feral cats program* and the Lactose-Intolerant Students Association and he other seventeen organizations mentioned which made the introduction to this ceremony a very long event.

Now, here is just some general background on me.  If ever asked on a survey "how do you feel about George W. Bush and his presidential legacy?" and given the choices Satisfied or Not Satisfied, here is what I would do:

1. I would travel briskly at 4 miles over the speed limit to the nearest Office Depot.
2. Buy a three pack of # 2 pencils just to have back ups in case of breakage.
3. I would very carefully and fully fill in the Not Satisfied bubble.  

That having been said, I am able to separate the office of President of the United States (or POTUS if you are an incurably nerdy law student or brown nose-y political hopeful) from the human being who currently occupies that office. I also believe that some respects owed to of the office should be bestowed upon the human being that occupies the office.  And because of the respect I believe is due, I will refrain from saying any more.

Now that we have my political history down, I hope you will appreciate what I am about to say.  George W. Bush was a pleasant speaker.  Notice that I said pleasant and not mind-blowing or game changing or world-rocking. (Ed. Note: Mom and Dad: Please. Calm. Down!  I'm not exactly investing in an Ann Coulter poster for my bedroom or getting a tattoo of an elephant on my upper left buttock.  Try breathing into a paper bag, I hear that helps.  Sheesh.)

Anyway, as I was saying, I enjoyed the speech.  The honor bestowed by SMU upon the Bushes was the medal of freedom** and so the former President spoke about several things he thinks threaten freedom today.  The one that hit home with me the most was international isolationism, or thinking that problems happening outside of our homes, zip codes, states, or countries are distinctly outside of our concern zone.

I worry often about this exact problem.  I worry that I will become so wrapped up in job searching or the vines taking over my back fence that I will forget that there are another six billion people on this earth with rich cultures and complex problems.  I worry about it when I hear friends talk about illegal immigrants in a way that makes me think they have forgotten these people are people.  I worry about Americans in general thinking that we stand apart from the rest of the world when we really don't.  I think we are incredibly important internationally (unintentional alliteration) but in the same way our brain it cannot function by itself even though is the most important organ in the body, we as Americans can't function completely removed from the perspective of the entire world.

Anyway, I could really go on about this for hours but I'll stop.  I have previously written about the idea of basic human rights but this is my blog so I can repeat things as many times as I want to.  (By the way, have you checked out That is Priceless?)

Isolating ourselves from what is different,
Inoculating ourselves against a possible viral interest in others,
Ignoring outsiders and their issues,
To create a perfect Eden of ignorance.

* This is a real program.  Ridiculous!  Though I don't think they actually sponsored the talk.
** Medal of Freedom = Most generic medal name ever.  If it was a cereal it would be called Frosted Oaties or Yummy Os.  If it were a retail store it would be called Smith's.  If it were a street in Atlanta it would be called Peachtree.

Ke$ha

I think the legacy of my generation (and plus or minus a little depending on how strict you are with your generational qualifications) is going to be the blurring of borders.  We don't just talk on the phone, we text while talking and blackberry messengering while driving.  We don't just eat, we eat and walk around and talk and drive.  (I'm not sure why all of this involves driving, I guess we really have places to go.)

I am so overstimulated that I hate taking a shower because it is so darn boring.  I have to have a new mix on my iPod or turn on NPR to get through it.  I must watch TV or surf the net while I'm eating and while I'm studying I won't even tell you the multiple other things I do.  There is an actual commercial now about kids who eat standing up and the (fake) discrimination they face.  Who wants to eat standing up?   That is just stupid.  How are you supposed to balance the TV remote if you are walking around.

This extreme multi-tasking is great sometimes, but I fear it has gotten out of control.  For me, the real problems start when you forget the original task that you are attempting to conquer.  No one better personifies this than the "singer" Ke$ha.  I love her songs, they are the kind of songs you play while doing other things (getting ready to go out, driving with the windows down, and, for me, showering.)  She was the musical guest on the last Saturday Night Live and she put on a crazy performance with lights and costumes and effects and dancing.  She showed off her creative side (which is apparently not bound by our establishment concept of a 26 letter alphabet.)

But there's just one problem, she can't sing.  Should we be concerned about this?  Check it out for yourself.






Ke$ha (pronounced Keh-sha)
You're a multitasking mesha.
Your neon tribal body-drawings didn't quite distract
From your tinny voice in your talentless act.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Today is my dad's birthday.  Below is the poem we all wrote for his birthday dinner invitation, reproduced with permission (assumed permission, that is.)  Hope you enjoy!

Also a birthday shout out to "Eduardo" one of my favorite cousins-in-law.

Way back in 1945, the world was still war-torn
And maybe unprepared for little Marc to be born

Marc paid great attention to girls & cars that were cool
But he didn't fret about studying or doing well in school

Even so, at SMU he really went quite far
First undergrad, then law school & easily passed the bar

Marc started his own practice and finally married Ann
They had three lovely children as fast as parents can

He knew so much law that he was a borderline dork
So he moved on to shooting and revamping Elm Fork

Marc's a businessman and trial lawyer extraordinaire
Who now goes to court with slightly thinner hair

He is a husband and father with the utmost devotion
Everything he does is "Marc"ed with great emotion

Join us to eat and drink as Marc turns 65
He wants us to celebrate - he's happy to be alive!

Justin Time To Feel Old

Ok, could I feel any older?

'Cause frankly, I'm not that old.  I never had a Commodore 64 and I am not old enough to have an original opinion about Reganomics.  I know who Tutti and Jo are but I think mostly from reruns.  I did have a crush on Alex P. Keaton but I'm a red blooded American female so what do you expect?

But here's the problem: what the heck is with this Justin Bieber kid?  I really and truly want to dislike him.  First of all, what is with that hair?  This is not an uncommon hairdo for young dudes these days and I cannot imagine why that is.  I call it the che-hairy because their head looks mostly round and juicy like a big piece of fruit.

Aside from the ridiculous hair, he is disturbingly mature for his age.  And I happen to know from years of interaction and watching TV that males don't mature quickly so this must be an act.  I just find it creepy that he is 16 and hitting on thirty-something women.  Seriously, am I old or what?

Che-hairy:

Choosing to chop your locks

So they sway like soft grass in a field

And then set like a circular cherry.

Up Yours (In A Sweet Way)

I generally think not so much about Hollywood and its surrounding vainglorious BS so when it was announced that there were ten nominees for best picture at this past Oscars, let's just say I was less than impressed.  If I had an address, I would have listed the ten best sandwiches I made this year and sent it in.  That is to say: Not impressed.  I think most of those movies were really good, but the nominating ten thing seemed like a combination of one part reflexive back patting and two parts what I call "media alchemy."

By media alchemy^TM I am referring to the ancient art of using chemistry and philosophy that tried to find the elixir of life by taking crappy metals and turning them into gold.  Or in other words, making something of nothing.  I find Hollywood types practice media alchemy often. (Evidence: Kim Kardashian, why on earth is she famous? No reason at all except that she has a show.)

Anyway, I saw about half of the movies nominated including Up, an animated story that had no chance of winning because it was an animated story.  I was watching part of it just the other day and was reminded of how great of a story it was.  And though this will sound strange it was well acted.  Yes, I know, there are not actual actors acting, but the writing, the voice work, and the animation make it a multi-layered story.  In particular, this clip of Carl and Ellie's life together gives you a feeling of a cartoon-simple couple but more emotionally 3D (take that Avatar 3D.)  And all of it is accomplished without a word!

Here is the clip:




Every time I watch it, I see something else I hadn't realized before. like how they are so eager to start a life together that she is sawing in her wedding dress. And it shows two people who compliment each other so well that you can see their real love for each other. That really is an incredible feat in this medium, if you ask me.


A story bespeckeled with balloon strings
While tugging at your heart strings
Two darlings made from drawings
Though you can consciously conceive the feeling of their clasping hands.

And how his love is linked to her
When he devises a new dream after her disappointment
And delivers when he sees their time together diminishing.

How lucky anyone would be
to have the heart
of two cartoon characters.

ASR Productions - Vanity Card #1

I desperately want to be outwardly annoyed with Chuck Lorre's vanity cards.  For those of you who don't watch television obsessively like I do, at the end of all TV shows by Chuck Lorre Productions, Chuck Lorre writes a note that flashes on the screen for less than a second.  If you want to read it you have to force your tivo do fast forward, go back, go slow, go back acrobatics until you get to that exact third of a second.  To see some samples you can go here, or you can just skip them totally after my ringing endorsement.

The whole thing is ridiculous.  So ridiculous, it could be called ridic.*  I find his ravings to be self-important and sometimes boring and occasionally stupid in a brow-furrowing, should-I-waste-the-time-to-read-that-again-so-I'll-understand kind of way. 

But it occurs to me that this is a perfect description of this blog.  So I guess that means I have to keep my mouth shut.

If it is called a vanity card
I had in mind it wouldn't be hard
To understand that it's vacuous and vain
And abstain from doing it again.

* I really like the "word" ridic because it is, in itself, a bit ridiculous.  But sometimes something is so inane that you really have to hit others over the head with the ridiculousness of it.  And so was born ridic.

Chelsea Handler

I remember when there was such a stir about "young people today" getting their news from untrustworthy sources like The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and then later The Colbert Report.  I watched one and then both of those shows and often did hear about news for the first time on those shows, but they always made me do more research on things that interested me.  Things I would have otherwise not known anything about.

I no longer watch those shows (too much to watch, too little time) and it occurred to me that I have stooped to an even lower low.  I now get my news from Chelsea Handler and the comic round table on Chelsea Lately.  Compared to Stewart, it is a little light on front page news and a little heavy on page six, but sometimes it is still the first place I hear about the latest scuttlebutt.  Really quite sad.

Chelsea Lately.
Educating me greatly.
On every breaking broadcast
Of incredible inconsequence.

To Melcher or Not To Melcher?

Have you checked out That is Priceless yet?  Cause I already mentioned it once or seven times and I don't feel you have been diligently checking back for the good stuff. No one can bring art history to the current day like Steve Melcher.  So if you hate culture and laughing then by all means go back to checking your pitiful portfolio or deleting those emails from classmates.com or whatever it is you do on your computer to take up time.

Just know that while you do that boring crap, the little paperclip helper from MS office (pictured at left in a happier time) is rusting out of boredom and, frankly, it's your fault.



Reimagining art with a trendy twist.
Seeing Matthew McConaughey in William Holman Hunt
And calling out "Count Kleinmueller" when no one else could.  Or would.

A perfect blog for those with an appreciation for the finer things.
Wholly highbrow humor, if it ever existed.

AT&T

You may have noticed that I have been derelict in my posting duties and it is not for the regular reasons (laziness, lack of inspiration.)  It is because my internet connection has been consistently inconsistent.  Working on the internet at my house is basically like using a dial up connection in Somalia.  Or so I imagine.

AT&T: angering me
With an incomprehensible inability to fix my wiring.
As though they are waiting for me to just give in.
But I'm not tiring.

Feelin' Breezy

I am LOVIN' this weather!   There is nothing like being able to keep your windows open and "blow the stink off" of your house by freshening things up.  The breeze may be a little more literal of an application in that sense, since it smells a little like dog at my place.  And I am dreadfully allergic to dust so it's healthy to keep that window open sometimes!*  Right?  Ok good.

The other thing I like about having a nice breeze inside is that it makes my house fuller.  Like there are people over all the time, and I'm using all the rooms at once.  We are comfortably at capacity.

Sometimes the breeze is a body.
Rustling some papers to remind you that you're not alone.
Like an understated cough saying "I'm still here, awaiting your attention."

It reports a racket heard across the yard
Though incompletely because it is indistinctly faint and in echo.

Sometimes it mystifies by moving things to a peculiar place like this book jacket in the dog's water bowl.
And other times makes a mess of matters and leaves, like a moody roommate who never cleans out a coffee cup.

And then at night, having forgot its key, it rattles your window screen
until you are awake and aware.  And annoyed.  It's your early alarm.

Then finally as you replace papers with a harrumph, you realize the wind has dwindled.
And left behind a gaping hole, devoid of din and unusually thin.

And as you replace your knickknacks in their dusty footprints
You can hear the breeze, giving a soliloquy about your snarky sighs that someone else could partially overhear.

* This medical fact is supported by four out of five dentists.

Look Out There's A Monster Coming

I had a "Lost" moment while watching Craig Ferguson last night.

Oh, you're confused?  Well that's how Lost works, but let me explain.  I don't know much about any of these things: Craig Ferguson, The Bonzo Dog, monster songs, or co-hosting so if you don't either then we are starting out in the same place.

I had the boob tube on to distract me while I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed.  Craig Ferguson was on and I accidentally heard and saw this:



[Ed. note: though  my favorite part is Ferguson's dancing, and my second favorite part is how the black guy in the tux looks at the monster.]

Well, clearly none of that makes sense.  Much like the show Lost, you had to know a little bit about a lot of things to have any idea what was going down and normally I would have shut off the television and moved on with my night - namely by reading or trying to fall asleep to a tivoed Chelsey Lately episode.

But that "look out there's a monster coming" really stuck in my head.  So I had to look up the skit on hulu.  Then I did some very cursory research on google and apparently this is not an original song, it was written and performed by a band called Bonzo Dog, sometimes called the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band.

So naturally these questions evolved:
Why is this song on the Craig Ferguson show?
What kind of band name is that?  Why does it have a long and short version?

Why is there a monster coming on this show or in a song?
Why is that little man dressed as a miniature S&M participant?
Who is that alligator?

"Why is this song on Craig Ferguson?" you might start with, since this simple show has brought up many questions (just like Lost, ya see?) and I'll tell you why: Craig Ferguson is apparently taking on a robot sidekick.  Just leads to more questions, right?

Why is he taking on a side kick, and why is that sidekick a robot with a mohawk who only knows eight catch phrases?  Is this a permanent thing?  And what kind of other songs did this band sing?

Apparently Bonzo Dog is a British band from the 60s that sometimes played on a kids' show called Do Not Adjust Your Set.  They sang other songs like I'm the Urban Spaceman and Can Blue Men Sing the Whites.  And they clearly did the psychedelic thing (which I always thought was 1960s code for experimenting with drugs?) since they had a song called Canyons of Your Mind.

Look buddy, you're going to have to google some of these things yourself.  I'm not your effing secretary and I have stuff to do, like set Craig Ferguson's show to Tivo so I can figure out what was going on.  Also, that skit was kinda funny...in a psychedelic way.

But as you can see, the more I learned the less I knew.  I hope you can see how I was totally Lost.

Heinous hair, soiled suits.
And only eight bywords to boot!
Not sure where Craig got the game plan.
To pick up a mystifying metal McMahon.

Consonance

As it turns out,* alliteration is a kind of consonance.  Consonance means the repetition of a consonant in writing, and alliteration means the repetition of a consonant at the beginning of words.

Two things about alliteration and consonance I would like to share;

First, Lewis Carrol, patron saint of this blog, was excellent at using consonance and alliteration, even when he was talking nonsense.  For instance, the poem I love so much from the Walrus and the Carpenter is a good example. He even manages to get an S sound to fit in with SH sounds when the Walrus is listing a few subjects he would like to discuss:

Of Shoes and Ships and Sealing-wax.
Of cabbages and kings.

It should be ridiculously easy to use consonance when you are making up words like "vorpal" to jive with "sword" but I guess you run the risk of people pronouncing them wrong.

The second thing I would like to note about consonance is that is tricks the reader's mind into thinking that you are an excellent writer because it makes things flow better.  (Again, see above nonsense verse.)

And really after that dreadfully didactic diatribe, all I have for you is this pitiful poem giving a different definition of consonance.  But it sounds enlightening because of the employment of alliteration.  (And then consonance there.)  Point proven.

Consonance: constantly conning you into regarding some writing as rhyming.

* I say "as it turns out" because you may be shocked by how little I research these monthly poetry types and devices before I use them.  Then again, maybe you had very low expectations.

Branching Out

[Ed. note: I have been having trouble with my internet at home, so I have quite a few entries written, but just have to get them edited and formatted now that I can get on again, or at this second anyway.  Aren't I just full of excuses?]

I spent a night this weekend at the family ranch and I forgot how peaceful it is out there.   The dogs loved it and I had a great time sitting around doing nothing.  I think if everyone had a ranch/farm/lazy lakehouse, this world might be a better place.

The creaking of crickets
Are relaxing and comforting
Instead of an indication
Of a failed joke.

The sound of a train on the tracks
Serves as an indicator of bedtime
And not a sign
that you will be stuck in traffic.

Knee high grass is a home for fireflies
Rather than a reminder
To get out the mower.

Time spent together
takes a different cadence
When you don't have to rush off
To work or carpool or class.

Side Note

For an example of excellent use of alliteration in marketing, please check out this entry on DontEvenReply.com.

Thanks to Mike for the site introduction.

Ty One On!

Another very pressing matter that the world needs to know is that I have a new puppy.  I have not had the best luck with puppies in the past (see the story of Buck) but I am hoping this will be a much happier story.

His name is Ty (short for Tayau which is the Cajun word for a big old hungry slobbery hound dog.)

Ty is freakin adorable.  He is eerily similar in description to Buck which I worry makes me some kind of crazy dog replacer but my sister says I just have a type.  I prefer that explanation.


So back to how adorable he is, I must say that he is changing by the day.  He has already gone from this:

To this carpet-wetting shiny eyed monster:

Seriously though, he is a joy most of the time and he and the monster are getting along well.  You know I'm a big fan of dogs so I'm sure you will be seeing more of these pictures.  I love the ears now, which remind me of those triangular garden flags people hang.  Maybe state flags for the land adorable.

Ty's tiny teeth
Hardly hurt at all
Until a few weeks later
When they're bigger than I recall.

He sits soundlessly in my lap
Curled up like a dinner roll
It was only half my lap
Now he takes it up in whole

Afraid of actions and sounds
As in, every one under the sun!
But suddenly he runs 'round the ranch
Exploring and having fun.

He started a tiny puppy
But is almost the size of a horse.
He is somehow outgrowing me
With no sign at all of remorse.

Talk About A Belated Birthday

A big event I missed in March that I am trying to pathetically make up for now is my dear friend Trbo's bday.  Just under a month ago, Trbo turned...well...a year or so younger than I just did but suffice it to say it was a big one.  I'm not really sure what kind of poem this is, but much like the lady it describes, it marches to the beat of its own drum.

Trbo, this one goes out to you.  Happy very belated birthday.

Simply waking up to sleek, slatted hardwood
Or serene chessies sleeping right where they last serenely stood.
These are not simple luxuries Sarah's recently understood.

She travels the world saving sovereign states and their systems of defense
Or maybe she works as a spy and the other job is purely pretense.
But that wouldn't explain her need for order which some would say is intense.

Maybe her cerebellum struggles to structure what otherwise is sloppy
Since she prefers your PJ pants long and stories that aren't too choppy.
And if you've never read Emily Post's Manners, I'm sure she'll let you borrow a copy.

So instead of cards or chocolates or a cheesy bouquet
I give her the image of the most sought-after girl in the saloon, tipping her beret.
Saying "I hope you're able to swallow a spirit or two on your rescheduled birthday!"

It's No April Fools Day Joke - We've Moved

So many things to discuss here; but I am going to limit this posting to the big move and the new monthly theme.  First, the new move.  What is worse than moving?  You have no idea how difficult it is to pack up a bunch of poetry.  The haiku poems came quietly and politely with a silent bow.  The name acrostics required a very loud roll call to rally.  The cinquains finally marched into a moving box five by five and the quatrains marched in four by four (ark-style.)  However, the Clerihews kept slapping each other across the face with gloves and dueling and the limericks were so drunk they fell right off their barstools and slept.  Don't even get me started on the roses are red poems, they were surprisingly thorny.

But everything is finished and we have moved.  And I hope this blog dies here and never has to move again.

As for the monthly theme:  I do have some news here.  As it turns out there are limit choices of relatively short poem types, so I am expanding the selection to literary devices as well.  This month's theme/literary device is alliteration, defined as the commencement of two or more words of a word group with the same letter, as in "apt alliteration's artful aid."  So this month's  "poetry type" is kind of a free style, but I will use alliteration in every post this month.

I assure you this is no April fools joke!  I feel obligated to append that to everything I say today.  I'm not a huge fan of April Fools Day because I think it usually has more mean pranks that funny pranks.  If you hear of a good one though, please feel free to share it in the comments section!

The fourth month's first day.
Full of new fools
Forged from festive follies
Fashioned in pursuit of fun
But often fuchsia-faced and flustered.
For far longer than any laughter lasts.

Mollie's Birthday Poem

And the poem about my other sister, Mollie, just for fun.

Mollie was a youngest child
Which gave her license to go totally wild.
All your clothes and things were shared
And if you objected, she rarely cared.
When she took ownership of your possession
It would sometimes escalate to aggression
You could take your gripe to the parents
But all adults were Mollie adherents.
With her cute face and long blond hair,
Your argument didn't have a prayer.

So you'd let your anger grow colder
And just wait until Mollie got older.

Now that day has finally come!
What an adult Mollie has become
Now I'd loan her anything I'm able to
(Though for safety I put my name in the label, too.)

Happy birthday Molls! You make a good grown up.

Love, your favorite sister
(you know the one.)

Since I Fear Losing Reader(s)

Here is a little poem I did for my sister Jen's bday.  Just to whet your poetic appetite for April.*

A girl named Jen turned 29
When she woke up that morning everything felt fine
But by the end of the day she had an ache and a pain
She thought to herself "Will I ever be young and cute again?"
But her older sister came to her aid
With Alleve and makeup and said "Don't be afraid!
You can keep that young feeling through yoga and laughter."
And so the sisters lived happily ever after.

* Blog moving in April to www.poeticjabberwocky.blogspot.com. I think "followers" will be moved with the blog so there is some incentive to create a log in and become a follower.

Yup, I Lied

I am taking off the entire month of March.  Think of it as my extended spring break.

(Reminder: blog is moving on April 1st.)

Negligent Plogging

Dear team, I am terribly behind on this blog and I know it.  For the first time ever I have egregiously and seriously neglected this blog.  I plan on fixing that quickly.  Thank you, reader, for noticing and checking in real life to see if I was stuck under a large rock.  No, not you, the other reader.

Stay tuned for some updates!!

[Reminder, this blog is moving in April.]

A Natural Choice: Anaphora

Ok, I am not insulting anyone's intelligence by backdating any of these entries.  I am just posting when it is time to post, and doing a current day post every day in March going forward.  And I promise that by the end of March there will be no less than 31 posts for the month.

But just one exception, the first posting of the month, for bureaucratic reasons.

Without further ado, I will announce this month's poetry type: Anaphora!  It's in the posting title if you missed that.  Just sayin.  For the purposes of this blog, anaphora rules are as follows:
- Use a certain word or sound to begin lines of poetry.
- The word or sound must begin in two or more lines.
- The poem can have more than one word or sound, as long as there are at least two consecutive lines using each word/sound.
- If I change these rules later, there is nothing you can do about it because I will also change this page so no one will ever believe your complaints.*

A thanks goes out to Marc L. for suggesting this poetry type.  Today's poem is about him.


Marketplace of ideas, and still
Marking suggestions to my call for poetry types
Markedly repetitive suggestions for those who have not read this blog for long.
Marc does not disappoint with anaphora.

* That was more for informational purposes than an actual rule.

Adios To Limericks!

Ok, honestly I am so finished with limericks.  I think I got a few good ones in there but it is extremely difficult to write a good one, in the correct meter with rhymes that makes sense and is moderately funny.  So I need something easy for next month, which I still have not decided on yet.  Please, submit ideas and don't make me do all of the research work.  Click the "submit ideas" above, not to actually submit ideas but to see the criteria and then click comment to submit ideas.  That made no sense, DO YOU NOT SEE HOW FRIED MY BRAIN IS?

On another note, I am thinking about putting a small box with links to Poetic Jabberwocky's best posts ever conceived, delivered, and then slapped on the back until they cried.  I'm thinking maybe one per month-ish so please vote for any post or posts you think should be included in this list.  If you suggest links from another blog then, well, message received.

For those of you few readers who do have an entry you like (particularly those who have been reading since the background color was baby's poop brown - ah the memories!) please suggest it.  I'll be in charge of polling the mice but no freakin way I'm asking that possum.  He seems like more of a nudie magazine reader anyway.

Since I'm doing a lot of housekeeping in this post, I wanted to let you know in advance that beginning on April 1st this blog will be moving to it's rightful place at www.poeticjabberwocky.blogspot.com and that is no April Fools joke.  This is because the new address properly reflects the name of the blog but the current address is poetryjabberwocky it is a subtle difference but I want to get this changed locked in before they start referencing my cutting edge political commentary on Fox News.  I think we can all (mostly) agree that those viewers will NOT be able to understand the difference.  I will be sure to remind you googlplex* times between now and then but I just wanted to get it out there.

[Reminder: blog address changing in April.  One reminder down! Sound of pencil crossing something off To Do list.]

A girl who wrote a daily limerick
Whose rhymes and syllables didn't quite fit
It's not as though she made money
If they were extra humorous
At month's end she thought, "Thank God that's it."

* Did you know googolplex is NOT where google headquarters is (that is Googleplex) but instead it is a ginormous number written either of these ways:

If that number was not first introduced in a competitive nerd discussion then my hair ain't sparkling auburn-y brown.  Ex: "Cylon Model Number Eight was a trillion times hotter than Number Six."  "No way, Number Six was a googolplex times hotter!"**

** Also, Nerd number two was totally right.  Number Six was a real vixen.

Shake, Rattle and Roll

There was another earthquake again today in Chile.  Is there such a think as earthquake season?  Sometimes I wonder what ancient peoples would have thought about this stuff.  It's not as if caveman knowledge was advanced enough to understand the idea of tectonic plates.  But now anyone who has CNN, MSNBC, ESPN, NBC, ABC, or the Discovery Channel basically understands tectonics.  It is the study of when huge pieces of earth act like those last few ice cubes in the glass: they look like they aren't possibly budging but then some imperceptible shift happens as you tilt the glass and they suddenly spill out over your nose.

But I imagine there was a good story way back when that made people believe they knew what caused earthquakes.  I'll bet it included giving natural forces human emotions.  Here is my crack at it:

There once was a tectonic plate
Searching the world for his true soul mate
Travels 'round causing quakes
But, none found, his heart aches.
Let's just be glad it won't procreate.

Spring Breakdowns

Ok, so I am about to flip out if I don't get a vacation soon.  I am tired of my house, of my bed, of this town, of this weather.  I could really use some beach time if we're getting specific.  Or maybe just some time out of town, anywhere.  Anywhere I say!!

Then I discovered that my spring break is coming up.  Usually spring break is about as interesting to me as the final episode of The Bachelor, that is it goes uncelebrated and mostly unnoticed except for everyone talking about it.  Once I posted on my facebook that I was looking forward to summer break and a friend commented that she wished she had summer break and I had to remind her that when you work and go to school my summer break was her regular schedule [icy glare.]

But this spring break is different, I'm not working so I could really go somewhere.  Now I just need to find a rich benefactor to pay for it.  [Cue Debbie Downer "Wa-waaaaah" noise.]

There once was a future attorney
Who imagined a relaxing journey;
Twas a lovely vacation 
To a beachy destination.
As they carried her off in a gurney.