In Which Sean Holds Himself Up to Ridicule

You know, I used to absolutely hate poetry.  Hated reading it, hated writing it, just generally hated everything about it.  I was a prose guy, and I thought there was something silly and frivolous about scribbling thoughts into stanzas and trying to get them to scan and rhyme and all that crap.

Then, something changed.  Maybe it was getting sober, though I have no idea why that would have any bearing on this.  But over the past few years, I’ve found that there are certain instances where I can best put my thoughts in order by taking up quill and scroll and just churning out some of the old doggerel.

Before we go any further, let’s just get this out of the way here and now:

 

Okay, now that we’ve dispensed with that (yeah), allow me if you will to emote all over you below:

I Want You to Want Meme

Don’t I get a hat with a light on it? This is bullshit.

 

I Can Make a Poat. You may not like it, but that’s not my problem.

 

So, yesterday was my birthday, and not ONE person asked me this.   You guys don’t care.

 

At work, they like to call me Karen to piss me off, so these are always amusing:

 

Dog memes are always funny:

 

Ok, this is a tad hurtful …

And now, we’re almost to the point we’ve all been waiting for …

 

Here it is – the QOTSA video you all knew was coming. This isn’t on any  of the albums- it was released to those who pre-ordered one of their albums.   It is freakin amazing.

 

 

Oh … this is bound to be good …

 

Yes, Yes, it is Josh.

 

This song is amazing:

 

BBF

Hello anticipators and wally-ballers, welcome to Big Boob Friday,

 

 

Your model for today was born August 20, 1980 in Baltimore, Maryland.  5’7″, 34D-24-34 and 119lbs, please pick up the spare and welcome Miss Christi Shake!

BBF

Hello fairies, and welcome to Big Boob Friday.

 

 

Your model for today was born November 15th, 1984 in Bury, Greater Manchester, England, Great Britain, United Kingdom.  34F-25-37, 5’9″ and 140lbs, please tickle your platypus and welcome, Miss Gemma Atkinson!

Apropos Of Nothing

There are certain words and phrases we occasionally encounter when reading that we sort of know their meaning. We might have looked up them up once in the distant past, know a root word or understood by intuition the intended meaning within the context it was used. “Apropos of nothing” is one of those phrases for me. I don’t think I’ve ever uttered those words in conversation. I may have imagined myself saying them somewhere in the English countryside before politely asking someone to please pass the Grey Poupon mustard. Well, after a lifetime of waiting for the moment, I finally wrote the words in an email to someone where I linked a story about the use of poppy seed oil to increase fertility. I’d never heard of that technique before and was still processing the concept in my head when I wrote a friendly email and just had to share the story. Which is what prompted the “apropos of nothing” lead in to the link.

So what’s it mean? Stolen from the world wide web I give you this definition:

Without reference to anything. // Without any apparent reason or purpose.

Does that sound like anything we all know and love? A certain blog? Rhymes with “The Sausages“? I’m sure you all have similar words you run across that you have the same feeling about.

HHD

Good morning, and welcome to another edition of Hunky Hump Day. I have been watching Turner Classic Movies’ 31 Days of Oscar and enjoying the days when an Academy Award went to a good film, not an exercise in box-checking diversity. I fully expect them to create a new category for Best Performance by a Transgender, lest someone win for both Actor and Actress.

So humor me for a little nostalgia trip. Yeah, I know the pics don’t match the movie, but the movie is what they were nominated for, and I picked the pic I liked.

Streets of Wire

This bright light goes by the handle Bascove.  She is a New York Artist and she and her architect husband have a grand ole’ tyme researching her subjects.  I think they do very well.

Saturday Shakespearean Sonnet

Let’s just get this out of the way right upfront:

Okay, now that we’ve dispensed with that, on to the poetry:

O, fake internet friends, how they slack off
When the long week’s toil is done and ended.
Whether they do Crossfit or just jack off,
The blog on weekends moulders, unamended.
Exceptions come, sometimes, from our Jimbro
Or if the Puppeh isn’t chasing tail.
But too often we are stuck in limbo
And Friday’s buxom freshness starts to fail.
I know well that all of you have lives
While weekends find me cloistered here at work.
But thirty-some hours on a poat is jive—
Yeah, “jive” is weak; you write the next poem, jerk!
So ends my verse, now let comments commence,
And maybe push this down some hours hence.

Kitchen Wire

Meet Jim Houser

b.1973 Philadelphia