Bad Poetry

Bad Poetry is like a dull knife,
Dangerous, often misused,
Rarely fatal yet always painful.

Politics is like a dull knife,
Dangerous, often misused,
Rarely fatal, yet often painful.

Bad Poetry is like politics,
Everyone uses it, no one understands it,
We’re all too lazy to sharpen it.

This poem is like a liberal,
Sort of pointless, mostly innocuous,
Adamantly critical, inevitably ignored.

On reflection of being a life-long liberal and the owner of several dull knives

Transplanted Prose

Originally posted on, December 13, 2006

For car(men) wherever you may find them
Toyota, Dodge, Datsun, Ford
A metal machine, a macho overlord,

Insensitive drivers, uncaring, obscene,
Driving us crazy, cursing their genes

Noisy, obnoxious, expensive and careless
Pervasive technology, quintissentialy worthless

Automotive desires are driving our days,
Credit ratings balloon, consuming our pay.

But I want that car, that awesome machine,
Oh and this one as well, and that one I mean,
Off road and on track and highway carousing
With 350 horsepower, I’ll do without housing.

I love my cars mercury and subaru,
Such a pity, you know, I can’t afford you.

Is it her?

Who could the mysterious shadowy figure be? Will the mystery be revealed? Will she ever look at her pictures? Just what is she looking at? Is the sky falling? Why is she stealing Chicken Little’s schtick? Is this the hidden dark side much alluded to? Are her lips really that red? Why is this filed under Climbing?

The answer to these and many more inane questions may never be revealed on this site…but then again…

It’s Time!

The issue was the clock on my computer got reset to May 2006 when they replaced the board…thus no posts after that date where displayed. I can only assume that eventually, as computer time rolled forward, that they would reappear in their proper place.

L’s new wheels behind her old wheels…she bought herself an Xmas present!