Happy Saturday !

My Argyle

Sock puppet despises me.
He rides
The circuit
In blithe respite; uncrated
He role-plays badly--
Leering, wooden--
Then trolls the neon
Streets. I am a
Lone.


Stand Inside

The red square
linger resist the edges,
There is no broken line
Stay






A Purpose Rhyme,

A morsel to chew on
Taking his time he’s not one to stew on
A diner taken not one moment lost
Thirst is slake’n mindless of cost
He rides the waves eschewing the light
Waking he craves hunting ‘oer the night
A pale dish passes displays a wealth of wares
Crowd of wolves gasp no he hasn’t a care
For a bloodless meal; he falls for a blush
A full red feel and a ruby throat to crush.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.
Creasing radiant ions,
Ceasing to exist merely as a threat, it is
>

Weaving into the stringent haze
Leaving behind the valley walls--

<

Wheezing the train comes, is
Achieving abruptly the sunglint track--
>

Increasing in stature, blowing steam
Freezing my neural contacts; my fixed stare is

<

Piecing briefly en masse the impending crises.
Alieving my torment, this anxiety’s as
>

Fleeting as an existence unfinished, thus
greasing my fortuitous end. They are

<

Teasing me with visions of succor, but
Easing now into acceptance and
>

Grieving alone, I meet the locomotive.

Movie review of Taken

Hey, welcome all to another episode of Movie Reviews , with Tom & Dinosaur Hand !


This week we’re too tired to leave the couch so it is video rental time!


Today’s review is on “Taken” starring Liam Neeson.


Tom “The hype on this movie was pretty strong ; I remember seeing it advertised quite a bit … at least the premise was a bit original .
Dinosaur Hand “Yeah , sure! Spoiled brat gets kidnapped and daddy has to kill everybody to rescue her! How cool is that?
Tom “You make it sound stupid.”
D.H. “No way; this is such a cool movie. There are guns and car chases and explosions and cell phones and broken glass and people behaving very badly and corruption, which is the same thing as what I just said, and flying fists!”
Tom “Also there is a nice back story here, what with Liam’s friends, a past marriage, and also a side story with body-guarding a famous singer.
D.H. “That is so excellent because he kills a guy!”
Tom “He doesn’t! Stop making things up.”
D.H. “That guy might have died. Yeah, and a lot of people are killed in this movie, like, a lot!”
Tom “You’re shaking. Do you know how badly you are shaking?”
D.H. “Heh, heh…do you remember how many times Frodo falls down in “The Fellowship of the Ring”?
Tom “Plenty…I couldn’t count that high; what’s that got to do with anything?”
D.H. “Heh, that’s how many millionaires are killed in this film! No, Billionaires! He kills all these rich smug bastards with his hands and guns and karate chops and other implements of destruction! Yeah! Heh, heh!”
Tom “I think you need to relax now. You are my most incorrigible limb!”
D.H. “After this movie I wanted to go out and smack everything and everyone…I was punching in the air and going ‘Woo Woo, come at me! I’ll smack you down, you!”
Tom “That’s right and you remember what happened then, don’t you?”
D.H. “Oh, don’t remind me…the things you and brother right hand make me do! Embarrassing!”
Tom “Well, it was for your own good…you were very hyped up.”

digging in the dirt

Syzygy is a pie,
A recurring cliché
Uberladen in bees
On a polarized
Grevillea tree.

On a moped wearing
Flippant plaid finches
The gardener,
Double-O’d and
Licensed to prune,

Arrives Munck-like
After his sabotaged
Weiner mobile
Careers off snapdragons
And cameramen in
An HGTV debacle.

Now, jumping through hoops
We wear a false mask,
Twitching eyebrows
Going postal over
Banana enhanced molars,
The sodium pentothol
Extending shorthand,
Overexuberant curvatures,
I’s skull-dotted and
Rotting under the fescue;

Give us pornographic
Cross fertilization,
Hi-def stamens--
Pixilated,
Slathered in a
Pollen froth--
Seasons time lapsing
To obscurity.

Awaken, assistant Polarity Adjunct;
Wake now and dispel
Your antithesis potion--

these petals are drooping
While culinary muses speculate
The meaning of thyme.

OOps !

Whoops, Uh-oh!
My bad Aw, crap! …sorry Son of a ****** Great whacking rats! Ay Carumba Dang it Holy Cow! Yikes ,damn, sh*t, **** Alas…

Happy Mother's Day

...and just remember...

...A duck may be somebody's mother!

Pie down! A Frenzy....Adventures in HOBO

In the Land of Hobo :::@

Requesting all Who Know … Forget everything and Return to Sender !

This edition of the Hobo Post brought to you by Monkey Chips … not really pieces of fried monkey parts , they only smell that way !

Discontinue scanning Information !

Not for the faint of heart , go back , to the beginning , warped and inane and unpleasant as it was … it is the only reasonable thing to do ! Beware !

Not to be maggoty , but gosh , look out for variable sky-breeches , coming to an avenue near you !

Do not , i repeat , do not leave any unarmored appendages outside of the moving vehicle , always wear a hat , keep a clean rear view mirror , and smile when the mechanized-portal-grabbers nab you !

Egad , My Wireless sets me Free

>> aCument0r’s
Radiant gaze set hard upon my pliant innards
Thru the odorous vapors i sense (~)
How deeply the earthly virus has affected my being =
Feeling , tasting the protective plastic of my wiring melt away .
Now + coming unplugged
Away in no time like the present (now)
From the Pickler’s communication grid !
My innards , the electrics* , influence computations
Little in my neural programming .
Wireless i‘ve become , central transmitter collating
Data without the benefit of hardware …
Fine thing , as it
is Beginning to puddle
on the steel grate floor .

*electrics = defunct anonymous redundancies i.e. possibly akin to the human gall bladder . Say it fast : gallbladdergallbladdergallbladderglawlbadlergobadgerblabberdoogobawobberjamstubmytoeblavver .

?

However , Acumentor via the virus of which i introduced into the Pickler , now suffers the same fate . Being the sophisticated machine it is , it has now put itself ahead of the ship it once served . Fancy baubles , shiny things it desires , and i now hindered its quest for more.
By alerting the Pickler’s mainframe i had halted the collection of junk by way of a pneumatic tube , the same as had sucked me in an antigravity spin into the bowels of the Pickler . Consequently , the influx of crapandjunk ceased , Acumentor hissed a menacing sizzle , and brainy as it was , wanting more , intended to displace this nuisance , to turn up the heat besides
.

War of the Newfangled Brainblasts!

The aCumentor thrusts forward its cables , edging from its harness and trounces the metal supports , flinging them like nunchucks at my unarmored mug . Cables like great black pythons wrap the heaps of jewels back into its protective grasp and it opens up its massive intellect to me , spilling electrified dendrites skyward to breech our gulf . They are like tiny warships , Hell machines equipped to bamboozle my boozler , and fry my minions of newlygoodliness .
i am sent into vertigo , my sparse capacity still adjusting to the viral modification , unable to respond in due fashion adequately … fated to be festooned , insinuated to a paisley demise by Acumentor’s frilly sensitivities !

`

It sends a Fleur de lis tattoo into Upper Hemispheres

Disequilibria floods my viralwits , Acumentor being the superior tactician , but it doesn’t account for experience , of which much i’ve accumulated while it shuffled amid the scrap and hoarded trinkets . Predictably i employ the Epley maneuver and with a minimum of flailing regain composure and cram my drawers brimming full of jewelry , plucking foremost the faceted pair of ulexite eyeballs that glowered over me .

In a gross exhibit of humanity Acumentor
cries havoc and lets fly the cogs of a boor
distressed at a loss of superfluous extremity
, and whines , gnashing gear on gear , crying foul , floundering like a wounded duck ,
a persimmon’s eight radiant spikes dissected and yawing ,
fringing on chaos and popping springs verbosely in a verdant upwelling of duplicity ;
it showers unceasing into the bejeweled cubby , growing exponentially in its self obliteration .

Pickler’s Fate & the Scattering of Parts is Parts

Too late to save the barrels of Infinity Spackle , i trust the contraption’s conniption to contract inversely and scatter the Spackle to the wind to the 4-corners of the earth in a spiral dispersion , thus completing my viral function , to infect the machines worldwide and bring down the obnoxious rule of the tyrannical nuts&bolts . With no time for elucidation , i relegated my resolve to abdicating the Pickler , going by way of a Duck flap maintenance tube , i fabricated a pod and flung my whole being into the recesses of space , away from the outwardly expanding Acumentor and the disintegrating Pickler . i would give myself to the skies and what will be will be ….

It's a wee bit windy in my garden..pheww.

Good Day Thursday Bloggers, It is Theme Thursday once again...gee it sneaks up--sort of like the little man who lives in my garden.

Don't know if anyone remembers the little man that lives in my garden, but guess what?

He is still there--him and William Shakespeare who has been reincarnated as a Weeping Mulberry...at the moment he is a bit self-conscious, being mostly bald. But that will change in a few weeks, as his leaves fill in.

Anyway, here is that entry if anyone is interested in the past:half-moosewithatwist.blogspot.com/2008/08/experimenting-with-roman-numerals-day-x.html (how do you make this into one word?)

I was out at the garden center couple days ago and decided to pick up a flat of annuals.

Once home however, the weather had gone from bad to worse.

It was drizzly and windy, as it is wont to be here in the springy Midwest.

So i left the plants out back on the brick path for another day...

Wednesday is my day off...after a little breakfast i got on my gardening shoes and out i went to work on planting....

'Hey, where're my plants?' My plants were gone!

'Hey-O, neighbor, that's a flim-wiggin poody; you're a woodchuck....arrrr.' the little man who lives in my garden snuck up on me, and i pitched my spade at him.

'Yo, that's a fine how-do-you-do... and not even a cup-o coffee...hey ya, smell me, ya chubby pow wotto-mus!'

Whoops, i didn't mean to throw the spade, 'Sorry little man.. you sort of surprised me.'

Shakespeare was giggling behind his weeping branches. 'Doth, methinks, rue the day, forsooth!'

'Finkin' la pinkin' do! And after i did gone and put all your wee ones in ta dirt! That's the thanks i getter!'

'Sorry, I'm really sorry....and thanks...you did a nice job.' The plants were really well placed and watered and everything!

'Natty poo-lark...and i put in a whole row of ten lilacs...now ya won' 'av t' look at ye neighbors next year! Stinky lardover poooooo-macs!'

'Well, that's be nice...lilacs smell really nice in the spring.'

'Ya! yer a hamster, pie dog and a rowdy gorvaroom! Ya know i ate too many crab blooms and i gotta break wind....faroomph!'

'Ugh' You don't want to be around when the little man in the garden has been eating crab apple blossoms. they don't agree with his plumbing.

'Und me back is nurtin' sumptin' awful from all the stoopin'! Eeemie Weemies to you! A curse on your head, and yer garden....Eeemie weemieroos! A weed for you!'

'No, oh no....not a gain!''Harr.....a ha ha! Thistles and stringies and lions and crabbygrass fer you... ya big clogmonger poo head!'

Nice, just wonderful...now my back will be broken from all the weed picking. And to top it off, here comes the drizzlies and spring wind gusts all over again!

Hail Aardvark continued

Of the Reign of Hastius X

Marsha knew well
the Treachery of X
She wept at the grave of Pasty
Growing a belly, the spawn of her dead paramour
Sired of one buried below Demise
Was destined to
A usurpfulness like no other.

~

Now X knowing of a Pasty retreat
Gave chase of Miffla
Widow of Amoritorius
He who taught Pasty many revilations
Notwithstanding the tainted ant
And the incestuous conquest of Borealis
At the chaotic wellsprings
Of which led to
Nothing good.
~

Alas, due to the imminent
And conclused immoralities
Of a Pestilent tribunal,
Amoritorius untimely ended
Caught in a tryst thus beheaded
In the interest of a balanced Depravity,
A trap set by none other
Than X,
Who then undid his nephew
Pasty, planting seeds of doubt,
Urging revolution against a failed scheme
Devised of course by he, secretly, X.

Strange Saturday

This is noticeably odd.

Sure, that’s a fine parcel duck for a mentor,
A finger attachment glued to a point shapely
In some learner’s brain gizmo
Also a mucus receptacle
Collecting overripe naggots,
Leftovers from holidays of past ham and teacakes,
For snide ticklers;
Naggots that collect & fester in the folds.
Over off ramp trajectories a mentor
Recalls the putrid troughage
And resells to
Speeding transitories--
Myopic barnacles that ride for free--
Falling wayward with new old baggage:
Jabs and putdowns
For front line cannon fodder
And children and dogs.

oh, no: is this a cry for help? No, it's a loofah!