Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s day is an aristocratic, authoritative holiday designed by imbeciles in stained white stockings with a hole in the knee.

This hole in the knee represents the hole in their hearts that they attempt to fill with a meaningless, corporation driven holiday every February that includes spending ridiculous amounts of money at Jared’s, just to come home and present an incorrectly sized ring to your gold digger ex wife who for some reason still lives with you.  You walk into the living room of your 5 bedroom, rundown apartment to find her having sex with a man who looks suspiciously like Darth Vader without his helmet on.  You proceed to question her as to why she would ever betray you in such a way, in your own football ridden sanctuary, no less.  She reminds you that the two of you are divorced, so technically she wasn’t betraying anyone.  You shrug, punch the man in his wrinkly face, and proceed to take you and your incorrectly sized ring elsewhere.  You end up on the streets of Baltimore, late at night, being propositioned by a lady of the night.  You stare at the woman for a moment, shove the ring box into her well manicured hand, and hightail it to a dive bar.  You then get drunk off of tequila and eat about ten individual lime slices before you pass out in the corner, your foot dangerously close to a puddle that glints – suspiciously – yellow in the lighting.


Broken People

What makes you think
You have any right
To enter my lovely realm
Go away we already have
A beautiful life
In my dystopian city
With it’s crimes and spiraling poverty
I don’t want you to destroy
My dystopian city
It’s lovely isn’t it
And I don’t need your help to finish it
I’ll start another fire
I can light the match on my own
I’ll slash another tire
But I don’t desire
Your screwdriver
My dystopian city doesn’t need your pity
And neither do I
I don’t need to hold your hand when I cry
Don’t dare to wipe my tears dry
I’m in perfect control of my dystopian city
Stop it with that gaze that tells me you’re trying to be witty
You’re not my friend or my lover
So in front of you my emotions I will smother

Fascinating Bones

What is it about dinosaurs that kids love so much, anyway?  Is it the way the colors?  The dinosaur movies and Dragon Tales?  The masculinity associated with the big dumpster trucks and strong scary t-rexs?  But then girls like dinos, too.  Is it the mystery of life long ago, and the strange creatures that just capture the imagination?

Follow your dreams is such an overused cliche.

Why do people like crime shows?  They can be so bloody and gory, like Bones.  Is it the mystery of trying to find out “whodunnit”?  Is it the nice idea that the bad guys are always caught that attracts us?

Two slices of bread lightly toasted cut across the middle so that four triangles are formed, spread with peanut butter and melted in the microwave for ten seconds, with a glass of milk and Oreos = best. invention. ever. Well, besides indoor plumbing.  And cars.  And the radio.  And…. um… I’ll just stop.  It’s still pretty awesome, though.

Otters are cute.

Rain boots are so multipurpose, you can wear them in any weather, use them as a vase for your flowers, use them as a pot for your flowers, store office supplies in them (though admittedly retrieving the office supplies that get pushed into the toes isn’t the easiest task), write phone messages on them with a sharpie (though don’t let random strangers write down long lost Aunt Susie’s phone number when you dig the stapler out of your boot, put it in your sneaker, and trudge past in the phone-book-boots through the rain),  even eat soup out of them.  (Warning: the sanitary conditions of said rain boots are questionable.  Eating soup out of them may result in the spread of viruses, or at least finding stray bits of corn in between your toes from last night’s dinner.)

What is the difference between TiVo and DVR?

At the end of YouTube videos, why do people say “I love you guys, bye!” and wave?  I don’t know you!  You can’t love me, because I DON’T KNOW YOU!

My post by e-mail worked!  Oh yeah! I don’t know why I’m so excited about that.

This was on the headboard when I stayed at a hotel.

This was in a nice, respected hotel, like a Hilton or Hampton or something.  I had clean sheets!  I felt like royalty.

My Epiphany Concerning US Politics

I had a bit of a conspiracy theorist moment while watching some news program or other and realized that maybe all the stupid things politicians say is planned out before hand.  (It must be true because as I was typing up this on my cellular device the page crashed right as I was about to hit “publish” – the government is watching… *glances around furtively*)  They purposefully say idiotic things so that us lowly citizens, who are too slow to realize what is really going on, complain about how moronic our representatives/leaders/politicians are becoming.  Meanwhile, they lounge about, sipping cocktails, cackling about what idiots we are and plotting how to put something even funnier into our water system than what is already in there, so that they can then press the big red easy button and activate the microchips in the water to immediately create a mind-controlled army.  They will use this army, of course, to take over the world’s black market of maraschino cherries because they ran out and are currently being forced to use regular cherries in their alcoholic beverages which is, frankly, Just. Wrong.

Did I mention that Staples doesn’t have to pay taxes anymore because they provided the easy button?

Are you all shaking your heads in pity at me because you guys already knew this and I am the last to realize?

….featured image courtesy of Wikipedia:….

Stubborn Humans

Disclaimer:  The following applies to Martians, too, so please don’t be offended at my rant (I get a little off-topic)

I’m probably not the first one to realize and/or get frustrated over this, but…

A week or two ago it hit me that humans are so stubborn.  They just take and take and take and what they don’t like they “fix”.  They pave roads and build houses and stores and make everything neat.  They file everything away into neat sections and map out every little thing, down to the spots of gum on the street.  (Okay, that was an exaggeration).  They shove information down throats and call you an idiot if you don’t agree with them and dead people go in neat rows of bodies and tombstones… Morbid, but like Holden Caulfield said, what’s the point of the flowers for the dead?  Funerals are for the living.  And “nature”, it’s manipulated and they trim bushes down to spirals or elephants or whatever else they want in their garden, and I don’t even know if there is a pure natural forest that has not been manipulated by humans in some way.  What about the stark beauty of nature – not fake nature, but real nature, wild nature.  The kind that sprawls out and claims the land and says, “I was here first, plants existed before humans, so back off.”

Also, what’s wrong with the rain?  In the winter, with bare trees and cloudy skies and rain… it’s gorgeous.  Anyone agree?

I guess I started thinking about this again because I am reading Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.  It’s creepy and awesome.  And scarily resembles our society today.  Thankfully books aren’t burned… Another random thought, video games have a set ending, so… I don’t know where that was going.  But they have a set ending, you can’t change it.  The level and game and storyline will end and if you die you can just start over.  It’s so unrealistic.  I guess books have a set ending too, but they allow you to learn and imagine and think and … I’m just not a video game person.  TV?  It’s cool but you don’t think and books are like TV shows in your head, so…

I need to write the second installment to the Great Banishing of Sonnets.  Anyway, what are your thoughts?

Poem of the Day – “Expression”

Ex-press yourself

Turn off the iron

Let yourself be wrinkled

Instead of uniform straight

And smooth and

Know you don’t have to be perfect


Ex-press yourself

And don’t let others

Fold you away in a box.

Rip off your label,

Because you are stronger

Than the gentle cycle


Ex-press yourself

Don’t let others throw you to the ground

Or rip holes in you

Or step on you

Or stain you

Or crumple you up in a pile of dirty laundry


Ex-press yourself

Allow your friends

To pick you up when you are down

And mend your seams

And reattach the buttons

That fall off