How 'bout some liveblogging!
"But Randal, nothing is going on. It's Saturday morning."
8h27 am: fuck you, brain. I'm at work and bored out of my gourd. But now that the gourd is empty, I can put it out on the patio, let it dry in the sun for a few hours, toss some of these concrete chips inside -- hmm, that column doesn't look right. Oh well, I'm sure it won't collapse -- seal it back up, and join Tito Puente's band.
"They robbed the school earth of Tito!"
Well, brain, someone's band. Hey, let's start a swingin' internets ensemble! Close your eyes, yes, that's right, close them good, empty your mind of all negative thought, screen after screen of corrupt politicians spewing forth their filthy lies and imagine instead the smooth, sultry polyrhythms wafting from a thousand keystrokes in unison, seducing your body bathed in silvery moonlight to move and groove in a way your mama would disapprove so go on and remove --
8h35 am: hey, um, look, it's other people. I really should be daydreaming more working on my paper, but since I busted vast amounts of ass the size of Spain -- hey, Johnny -- naw, too easy -- on it last weekend, I'm going to reward myself with a treat: surfing the tubes for pornographic materials!
"What a surprise."
Hey, it's for research purposes.
And for the record, no, I cannot tango.
"Or ballroom or waltz or minuet or electric slide --"
I can mosh.
8h45 am: fuck man, all the good stuff costs money. If only I could incorporate myself, hedge some funds, bottom out and get bailed by you chumps.
"Remember, Fred, the CEO's penthouse. Stat!"
8h53 am: from the Blind Squirrel Department: yeah, the lyrics sucked, and the band sucked and all their other songs sucked, but the main riff to Quiet Riot's Metal Health is fucking good, I don't care what anyone says.
Go on and laugh, like everything you dig is Jaded Rock Critic approved.
You don't even own any Bach, loser.
"Schlagen Sie Ihren Kopf!"
9h07 am: yabba dabba doo, yabba dabba doo. Not strictly Fred and Wilma but the skit from In Living Color that ripped on that FSM-awful Crystal Waters song. Every now and then it makes an appearance inside my skull. It's out of my control, really.
That and The Simpsons back-to-back. Memories.
"At least that one's real."
Go to hell.
9h12: DID SOMEONE SAY HELL?
Satan may take Hossa's place on Pens' top line.
NOW THAT'S A HEADLINE!
NOW THAT'S A HEADLINE!
NOW THAT'S A HEADLINE!
NOW THAT'S A HEADLINE!
Is there an echo in here? Sheesh, we get it, you are legion for you are a whole bunch of fuckers, one aspect of which apparently plays in the NHL. What the hell --
DID SOMEONE SAY HELL?
-- fucking one trick pony. What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be plotting the next world crisis with your favorite lackey at The Undisclosed Location?
9h19 am: speaking of the world, want to know when an international student has truly arrived? When, in frustration, he or she swears in English. It's a beautiful thing to see. God Bless America. Sniff.
"Son of bitch! Shit!"
Man, I can't wait to swear in über-crappy French in some dinky store in some dinky town in the middle of Toulouse before the owner tosses me out onto the street.
"Cinq Euros ? Merde ! Vous enculez-vous !"
9h28 am: No more anger, for I have entered into a state of deep contemplation, of transcendent sentiment worthy of being carried on the cosmic winds from star to star, galaxy to galaxy, dimension to dimension, exploring the furthest reaches of consciousness whose dreamy arms drift above each and every plane of existence as they compose a mellifluous measure of truth, the sweetest harmony of the soul, the denouement of every question, the holy grail of the seeker, the answer.
Yes, this is the worst blog post ever.
"I concur, you navel-gazing bastard. You are in serious need of help."
It's not my fault it's slow today.
"Why don't you croon an old standard, flash those pearly posting skills?"
"Now that's the Randal we all know and loathe!"
Am I your monkey? Should I parler en français ?
"No, no, you're a facade that we need to clothe --"
In sartorial livery? That's stupid to say, go away.
"Don't be such a child. If one is devoid of wit --"
And you're gonna fucking give it to me?
"Who else can dredge you up from this pit?"
A wasteland created through your fuckery --
"Explain yourself, good sir, I'm merely trying --"
My fucking patience --
"Now you are lying --"
Hey, I see the imbalance.
"And we feel the burn blasting off the page."
That's not burn, mon esprit, but burnout.
"Neither scrying nor mountain climb to a sage --"
Can fix it, so if you don't mind, permit me to shout.
"Taking a sabbatical? A mental constitutional?"
Nothing of the sort, just venting some spleen.
"Chuck you aren't and Paris this ain't."
Low words and a failure to rhyme? Everything I've seen!
"Your wretched hell is the source of that complaint."
Yet our song remains broken.
"Of what import is such contrary ontogeny?"
'Tis but a useless token?
"Oui. Up for some poetic larceny?"
Rather just do nothin'.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Any ole' excuse'll do
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
22 comments:
The entire Bush clan signals with the Devil horns gesture.
Babs the Impaler is especially scary looking trying to get her ancient digits in the correct position.
It's enough to make me want to wear garlic around my neck for protection.
I feel compelled to share with you the song, "babydoll", that comes to mind when my brain starts to talk to me( it is always dangerous). Promise to never share a song again. But the lyrics are just perfect for this post. I only wish I wrote them. I have to give the credit to Laurie Anderson. So, here we go:
And then I hear this voice
comin from the back of my head Uh huh
(Whoa-ho) Yep! It's my brain again
And when my brain talks to me, he says:
Take me out to the ballgame
Take me out to the park
Take me to the movies
Cause I love to sit in the dark
Take me to Tahiti
Cause I love to be hot
And take me out on the town tonight
Cause I know the new hot spot. He says:
Babydoll! Ooo oo oo Babydoll Ooo He says:
Babydoll! I love it when you come when I call
Babydoll! You don't have to talk I know it all
Babydoll! Ooo oo oo Babydoll Ooo
Well I'm sitting around trying to write a letter
I'm wracking my brains trying to think
of another word for horse
I ask my brain for some assistance.
And he says: Huh...Let's see...How about cow?
That's close. He says:
Take me out to the ballgame
Take me out to the park
Take me to the movies
Cause I love to sit in the dark
Take me to your leader
And I say: Do you mean George?
And he says: I just want to meet him
And I say:
Come on I mean I don't even know George!
Just be glad I did not sing this for you, as I have been known to do.:-)
Very cool but it's too early in the morning for me to be witty.. must be the time difference.
Thanks to chris and lbr for providing the appropriate.
christopher, I don't think there's any question that at this point in time, Babs is a part of the undead. Her son is like the insane Renfield given the keys to Dracula's castle.
LBR, frankly, I'm a little bit hurt that you didn't sing. I'm not all that good of a vocalist myself, so just imagine the horrid sounds our chorus would make. ;-)
susan, I think it more me simply tossing whatever crap popped in my head down. Coming up with posts, or anything really, is getting more difficult. Maybe I need a vacation.
Anyone wanna buy me a plane ticket?
Shut up, crickets.
Oh man, Randal, I just gave away my last free airline ticket...it was to France, too. Shucks. If I only knew you wanted it. I think I may have an extra airline ticket in the bottom of my desk drawer that will take you to Georgia, Russia. I've heard it's a real hot spot these days. Are ya interested?
I guess I should get back to work. No blogging for me today...you got the last bit of free time I have today.
Oh...and don't go putting up pictures of Bush and family without a warning, for gosh sakes. I have a weak heart, ya know and frights like that aren't good for me.
Have fun at work, kiddo.
waves panties in the air ... wait a minute? why am I waving my panties in the air? seemed like a good idea at the time. a distraction is always good when one is lost. J'ai perdu.
Oh Randal, you totally frighten me, but in a good way.
As opposed to the Bushes who scare the crap out of me with all their devil fingers and so forth.
Please, make the monsters stop!!!
Uh oh, Barbara Bush's arthritis is getting worse. Her right hand has been in that position since 1993.
ME, no, it's my fault. I simply haven't been clear on my desire to go to France.
Georgia? Will Pooty-Poot be there? I've always wanted to try that soul thing.
The last bit? I feel honored, and in reward for your unyielding kindness, I shall refrain for putting up another picture of Bush. Until next week.
JNRR, it's a good idea still! I feel like a rock star, but where's the sex, drugs and actual rock and roll? Probably came and went when I was distracted.
fran, then I am happy and sad for you! Believe me, if I had that kind of power, the world would be very different.
tom, I was really hoping to find Babs flashing the horns while wearing that psychopath stare of hers, but alas, this was the best my Google-Fu could locate.
The pictures alone get me all shivery & shit...
The brain shouldn't have to process any Bush pixs. Well, bush pixs are fine, but Bush pixs are not.
I'm fixing to drug myself (again) and dream of good things. And good people.
:)
Randal, ...you're saying that post wasn't as good for you... as it was for me? (snif)
I think that the devil sign is just the hand gestures they do as they sing along with Tito:
Bu-urns!
Con un corazón de perro.
Señor Bu-urns!
El diablo con dinero.
Adios viejo!
That or they're warding of Old Man Cheney's evil eye.
good god!!! I thought it was going to be a relaxing post with the porn talk, and then you had to go putting "The family" up there. I almost thought my zen was leaving until the last chick. Of course the yoga prepped me to see her....Now I just need to forget about "the familia"!!
United In Peace And Freedom
Well, I'm never bored at work but my cerebral activity is pretty dull compared to yours.
I have given you another akward.;-) Come on over and see!
hill, I'll try and rectify that as best I can. Now, go pop some pills!
BE, hey, practice makes perfect, no?
suzi, "listen, if you will, to my revenge!" Unka Dick is so scary, even these clowns live in fear of his sorcery.
AHB, I like to show that for every good thing one can find on this earth, there exists a Bush. Ying/yang, all that jazz. ;-)
betty, that's because you're doing actual work. Saturdays aren't all that thrilling over here.
LBR, aw shit. My tux is still at the dry cleaners!
Well, I think you have it all covered.
Followed semi hard logic
as you pranced through your day.
Everything has been exposed, pigeonholed and defined.
But now what to do with rest of your time?
"Rather just do nothin"
Seems to fit you just fine.
Must be the headache I am sufferin as I atttempt to write a poem about something else but sorta close in spirit anyway to what you just wrote. But if cornerd and threatened with a bat, I might have just said, "Cool post dude, I know where you're at."
Anyway, that's what came to mind when I considered your post.
I'm rather wary of a post that shows the entire Bush clan doing anything. I mean, talk about poisoning the airwaves.
Otherwise, you and Mrs. Graves should take tango lessons.
It always happens. I have a witty response to the insanity you have scared me with, and here comes Diva to say it first. I can't wake up early enough to read your post before the multitudes arive and say it all. Damn man, slow down, sleep in at least one day a week.
randal
can i just say you rock!
"Vous enculez-vous !"
Ms Pedantic here again. First of all the use of "vous" is way too polite if you're wanting to tell someone to go fuck themselves. Anyway, the way to say this in French is like this:
"Va te faire enculer"
I'll disagree on the vous since there is derived some of the comedy, but grammatical corrections are always welcome. I always forget that I can use aller more often than I do. :)
Post a Comment