I’m done with college. For now and ever more. So, as a projects blog, I’ll give you now a rundown of my situation and what I’ve got on my plate, or at least planned.
Yearly Archives: 2005
Think Tank
The panic had spread. They phoned me up. They told me of some bubbling madness, about how "ITS" eyes slid shut. "Impossible!" I cried, "Even inside the bullet proof tank of a closet made of dark?!?!" "Yes," they replied. I asked, "Did you tell it not to dream of things like Tennis in the Sea, or Sphinxes weird from trapdoor realities?" "Yes," they muttered, "and nothing works." So I put the phone down. Now there's little left to tell you, so if you'll excuse me, I'm giving into my fear like we all do.
Without You.
Go Easy. I havent written a poem for years. I lost the art writing Lit Crit.
Without You
Without you,
when the sun shines,
my heart aches with the heady perfumes of Spring.
Without you,
when it is Winter and night,
and the sky is clear and visible,
like insignificance,
I seek out signs that precipitate desires,
shooting stars,
constellations even,
that suggest an order to hope.
Without you,
in the street,
I seek out lucky pennies
to wish on
and I wish magpies a good day,
whenever I see less or more than two.
Without you,
I hoard my luck.
No lottery,
or bets.
no games of chance,
even flippant bets to hit the waste paper bin are passed up.
I hold my breath,
the pennies held tightly in my hand,
to be spent with you.
And hope as well,
I save my hope like luck,
a precursor to the real
and not lost and frittered away.
My hope is a declaration of action,
of love
and doing;
an emptying of the blue from the sky
into my lungs and life,
open and ready.
Without you
happy sad
because without you
leads to with you
and without is presence
banishing fear of nothing
with the potential for everything;
with you.
Bugger
Well,
After years of nearlys, yesterday my football team was relegated or demoted or whatever you want to call it.
It is quite sad. We now have to sell our players.
Secondly,
Some American tycoon who owns tampa bay bucaneers and hasnt ever been to see football in england has bought Manchester United.
Its caused a great deal of controversy hear, mainly because whn I say he bought, he actually borrowed £300 million of the £700 million and put the club into debt. Thats buisiness I suppose and its always amusing to see a club that courted merchandise and its brand so regularly as a buisiness to be bought and run like a buisiness. You sow the wind and you reap the whirlwind. PLC means you can be bought and you have already sold out. We laboured under the illusion that the buisiness men before were concerned with the spirit of football. At least its out in the open. Some American Cu*nt has bought what he sees as a good deal and doesnt really care if its a team or a it buys and sells oil.
Thats the way of the world.
Sad but true.
Finally, if you ahvent done already, listen to Groovey Train by the Farm or Safety Dance by Men with Hats today.
Its always good to revisit the old ones.
Grue’s Essentials
I know this isn’t supposed to be a blog, but I can’t help but list my favorite classic hits…
1 – Screaming Jay Hawkins – I put a spell on you
2 – ? and the Mysterions – 96 Tears
3 – Del Shannon -Runaway
4 – Donovan – Wear your love like Heaven
5 – Supremes (really Freda Paine)- Band of Gold
6 – The Animals – House of the Rising Sun
7 – The Four Tops- Reach Out I’ll be there
Sting and the Kensucky Derby
Fuck you Sting. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on – literally.
As you may have heard, a long shot named Giacomo won this year’s Kentucky Derby at unheard of 50-1 odds. This was the second largest pay-out ever in Kentucky Derby history.
Normally, I am a big champion of the underdog. No one likes an upset more than me. But Giacomo’s win sucked for a number of reasons, and I blame Sting.
FYI: Giacomo is the name of Sting’s 9yr old son. The owner of the horse was a cofounder of A&M records and gave his thoroughbred the same stupid name Sting gave his stupid kid. Long story short, this horse should not even have been a contender in this race – let alone win the thing….
Grumblings
Grumblings are always grumbling, about this and that. Go ask a Grumbling to take out the garbage, he'll retort, "What, and waste my time? I ain't doin' no rubbish like trash!" Or tell him to trim the hedge, and he'll growl very low, "Leave me alone, Jack, I'm bushed and am staying planted right here so long as I can't figure out what whack smack you are barking about." Try to get a Grumbling to feed the fish, he'll reply composed and reposed, "I just can't do it, Trish, for I fear the only fish I'm hooked on come off punch-lines and onto my dinner dish." Though, the true problem comes when the Grumblings are more than one. Whereas 'a' Grumbling can be humbled into mumbles with 'a' strategically placed TV (which he'll watch indefinitely), if a number of Grumblings start stumbling though doors, jumbling out windows and falling in a bumble of tumbles down the crumbling chimneys narrow, that grumbling will roar into a rumbling crescendo that even the mayor can't fix, because by then he'll be grumbling, too, with little, if any, clue of how to save a neighborhood that has gone to the Grumbling zoo.
Laying Electric Wires in the Ceiling and Almost Getting Electrocuted
Election Special
Anyway. So its not a big deal for you but the scene is thus.
We have 3 parties but only 2 that realistically that can win Conservative and Labor. Both are now centre right parties with pretty much the same policies just fine tuned. The choice for the voter is which brand do you prefer. Do you think New labor have done a good job, or if they haven’t have they done a better job than the Conservatives would? Can we forget the desolation the conservative government left in this country after 14 years even though we don’t trust Tony Blair? If we don’t like Tony Blair do we vote liberals and risk the Conservatives winning as a result?
A “short” Poem
I have a thing for Achondroplasic dwarfs Not Geleophysic, Pseudoachondroplasic, or hypochondroplasic dwarfs The other two hundred varieties of dwarf apologies for not adoring, admiring, and appreciating your unique morphs I’ll buy you a chicken coop to live-in a hot-plate, stool, and wobbly table to get your knit on Fully featured with adequately short linens I see you cookin egg, tomato and mushroom with onions Follow the yellow brick road Wearing your shinny new specs and capris Down to my house with the little commode Don’t get lost among the assorted spectrum of leaves