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VIEWING 25 - 28 OUT OF 28 BLOGS.
Ode to the Creepy Gnome
DATE: 03/12/2008 20:29:58 / MOOD: Stoned
Late at night the creepy gnome
Peeks through your window and
Enters your home
Hobbles around your house and leers
Then hides under the stairs
And drinks your beers
Steals your iPod and your cash
Licks your bong
And smokes your stash
Fondles your mom and rapes your dad
He’d fuck a goat
If that’s all you had
Rubs his warty face on your tongue
Then pinches your nipples
Til morning comes
Stands at your bed
In the early morn
Gives you a kiss
Then steals your porn
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Build a Bear, shoot a bear, save the Earth
DATE: 03/11/2008 12:41:27 / MOOD: other
I was in South Dakota a while back where I read an article in the local paper about bear baiting. The article focused on one hunter who is apparently a bear-baiting guru. In short, he mixes buckets of caramel popcorn, marshmallows and other sweet shit and sets them out in the woods in order to coax bears into the open. Soon the bears form a habit of visiting the same location to get their sugar fix. Once bear hunting season starts, hunters sit out of harms way to shoot at the bears.
Now, I am from San Francisco, so the idea of bear baiting obviously struck me as pretty unsportsmanlike, however I'm not writing this to pass judgment on hunters. I'm actually writing this because, while reading the article, it occurred to me how important natural habitats, such as forests, are for hunters and bears alike. If the bears' habitat is paved over to make room for a new mall, then bear baiters would be reduced to hunting Build-a-Bears rather than real bears.
Without forests, there would be no place for bears to live and therefore no place for bear baiters to lure them with their buckets of Moose Munch and Cracker Jacks. The real tragedy is the lost opportunity for father and son to bond over killing bears high on sugar, thirsting not so much for blood, but for more high fructose corn sweetener. And maybe a Mountain Dew to wash it down.
Fact is, there already are gun-toting wing nuts blowing people away in malls, so what's the harm if a few hunters shoot Build-a-Bears? Gun enthusiasts could have their own special malls, a temperature-controlled paradise where they can blow away Build-a-Bears, and heck, probably each other, in the safety and comfort of the great indoors.
Imagine the convenience of snacking on a Ms. Field's cookie or a Hot Dog on a Stick, while father and son bond over building a bear and then blowing it away. Bear baiters can save the Moose Munch for their trip to the hunting mall. That way, real bears may be less likely to develop TypeII Diabetes and rotten teeth. And what better way to enjoy that sweet popcorn than with a steaming cup of Starbucks coffee? Oh, and let's not forget a frothy hot chocolate for junior.
Father and son could stop by the Apple store to buy a fancy iPod. Honestly, hunting is pretty darn boring, so having some cool tunes is a nice way to pass the time while stalking those elusive Build-a-Bears.
Another convenience is that Build-a-Bears already come stuffed, making it a breeze to mount that hard-fought trophy above the fireplace. And, unlike real bears which are highly flammable, toy bears are constructed of fire retardant materials.
Regardless of whether you agree or disagree with the questionable tactics used in bear baiting, saving precious natural habitats such as forests is important for hunters and bears alike. While real bears would certainly miss their bucketfuls of sweet snacks, imagine what a healthier planet we would have with less Build-a-Bears around to terrorize us frail humans.
Cheers, LS
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Poem by William Carlos Williams' Punk Son
DATE: 03/06/2008 08:46:40 / MOOD: angry
This Is Just to Say
Fuck you dad
for eating
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
I was
saving
for breakfast
forgive you?
I think not
I'm sure they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
I hope you
fuckin' choke next time
goddam hippie
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Poem from Emily Dickinson's teenage emo daughter
DATE: 02/28/2008 18:36:56 / MOOD: angry
I heard a fly buzz -- when I died --
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air --
Between the Heaves of my drunk, depressed mother
throwing up in the bathroom --
she better not use my lipliner.
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