BAD POETRY, Pt. 5


The Pansy

I gave a girl a pansy,
I told the flowers about her.
All around her, roses grow wild,
fragrant petals at her feet.
Standing in her oyster shell,
she yawns and stretches
with the passing sun.
And yet still,
with the thought of pansies,
she’ll smile and think of me.


If a person wanted to test bicycles, would that make them a Pedallurgist, a Cycle-analyst, or merely a Spokesman?

Next week: You say you want a resolution? We all want to change the world.

Hey, Merry Christmas everybody. This year, the family has opted for a nature-themed card. I found this pristine spot in the heart of Zions National Park. I had lots of other pics taken, but I liked this one the best. Mostly because I don't look as fat as I really am. Please note that I am only giving out a limited number of these. I took the wrong file to Kinko's. Then I printed them out the wrong size. And on the wrong paper. No offense to anyone, but if you don't get one, it is not because I don't think you are totally 'da bomb'. It is because the subject matter is lacking.

Oh...

I had a request to for me to show previous years cards. So here ya go.



and...

The Flavor Waster*

A little Public Service Announcement:

Once upon a time best friends Jimmy and James went to a raging frat party at Iota Eta Pi. This party was important to Jimmy because Nancy was going to be there; and well, by golly, Jimmy sure had a thing for her. As Nancy descended down that grand spiral staircase, she caught the attention of every fellow there. However, Jimmy was ready. Jimmy had all new puns and he was wearing the perfect amount of TAG body spray. They talked for a while. Jimmy was ready to get her number when…Steve entered the room.

Steve walked in, tied his sweater with the University logo around his waist and turned on the radar. Since Nancy was twice as hot as any other girl there by a factor of ten, that is where Steve was headed. As Steve made a bee line across the party, he suddenly found himself intercepted by James. James said “Hey there Steve, where you going?” “I was going to get a drink and..” James interrupted, “No you are not. You were going to talk to Nancy.” Steve retorted, “So maybe I was…” James jumped in again. “Well Steve, my friend Jimmy is talking to her now. Jimmy likes her a lot and he certainly wouldn’t want you going over there and wasting his flavor. So take a hike. Am-scray!”

The moral of the story: Be like James and be a Flavor Saver. How are guys like Jimmy (myself included) ever going to get married if we can't get a date? And how can we get a date if we can't get in a word in edge-wise?








*many of the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

So I thought I'd take a break from studying for finals and the various books I am trying to read or write, and maybe watch a little of the tube. Soon as I turned it on, a puppy wished me a happy holiday. This peppy puppy represented the Cottonelle toilet paper company. And on the behalf of the company, a puppy sent his holiday best. Next, the fine folks at Jello brand gelatin also wished me a happy holidays. Should I be touched by this sincere holiday salutation? At least Smith & Wesson isn't wishing me a happy Mother's Day.

Mark’s Detective Story

It was a dark and stormy night. I was sitting in my office waiting for some excitement to fall into my lap. My name is Frank Freely. I’m a Private Eye.
It was looking to be another quiet night. I had been in my office for twenty minutes. I knew I had been there for about twenty minutes, because since I got there, I had boiled two three-minute eggs, three two-minute eggs, made seven servings of Minute Rice and sixty servings of instant pudding. I was thinking about killing some more time by watching Gone In 60 Seconds in real time or maybe just catching a 4 hour cold.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. I looked at my watch. It was eighteen minutes until 10:32. “Come in”, I muttered under my breath. That’s when she walked back into my life. Or, into my office. You know, that was just a figure of speech. But I didn’t figure on her speech. Or rather, her figure stopped my speech. Anyhoo, there she was.
I slowly looked her over, starting at her feet, the way a small boy would dig into a quart of light strawberry yogurt, only to find it kept getting better, until at the end he finds a toy frog. Her skirt was generous and her blouse was consecutive. She wore real pearls on a fake string around her slender neck. Her long lashes draped over her Disney eyes. Wow, she was symmetrical. She didn’t take my breath away, she put it back. I realized I hadn’t been breathing right for a very long time.
There was something familiar about the way her shinny brown hair was tied in a bun behind her head, like an old 1860’s school librarian. That’s when it hit me. Kind of like when you step on a rake and the handle slaps you right between the eyes. I’d known her before, all right. A long time ago, back when things were different. Back when Country was different than Western, back in simpler times. Back when things were a little more innocent between us. Back when I loaned her all that money. You remember those days.
She looked kinda like Nicole Kidman, except really pretty. She was quite a dish. But with a mug like that, how could she be otherwise. And she certainly wasn’t flatware. She wasn’t supposed to be. But there was something about that mug I just couldn’t put a handle on. I remembered the first time I tried to pick her up. She was sitting in this coffee shop. I noticed her curves and her steamy attitude. She was hot. She told me to get a grip, but she eventually slipped through my fingers. I hate getting burned.
I told her it was dangerous out and that I should walk her home. She said “sure” and I paid for her drink. Since she was feeling generous, I paid for her groceries. And a pedicure. And the balance on her credit card. As we walked we talked about all sorts of things. I mentioned her smile and her beautiful deep eyes, how they looked like two doughnuts with those rainbow sprinkles floating in two buckets of whipped cream, only smaller and not as fattening. It must have been lunch time.
As we walked, she said she felt like slipping into something more comfortable. I was all for that, because yesterday, I bought some new insoles, and buddy, I tell you, I feel great. So she goes into this lingerie shop, and that’s where she gave me the slip. And that was her victorious secret. Boy, I really felt like a panty-waist.
But that was years ago. Here she was now, standing in front of me. “Are you P. I. Freely?” she asked with that sultry voice. “That’s close enough”, I blurted out. She sauntered into the office and dropped into one of the oversized bean bags in the corner. “I must be frank…” she started to say. “No, you’ve got us mixed up again.” I interrupted. She told me to stop being curt. “Surely, I didn’t mean it. You are ‘Freida’ tell me anything you want. Speak freely.” She said, “Sally over here and I’ll tell you about it”. I about leaped over the desk just to be next to her.
I dropped into the bag of beans next to her and felt my hands grow clammy. I thought about showing off my muscles, but I didn’t want her to get crabby. I tried to act coy, but instead, I just floundered for words and just felt kelpless. Holy mackerel, I was in over my head. Being next to her set my head swimming. I was feeling under a lot of pressure. I felt like we were sole mates, but who was I squidding. A shrimp like me didn’t have a chance.
She looked into my eyes and leaned forward. She licked her lips and moved closer. I looked deep into her eyes and down to her mouth and back again. I felt the warmth of her breath on my nose and she moved closer still. Our lips locked together and we slowly kissed. Ever since the invention of the kiss, there have been five which were judged the most romantic. This one would have been about three million, two hundred and seventy one thousand, one hundred and thirty eight. The best I have ever had.
She said to herself, “Hmm, pudding.”, as she licked a small blob of it off her lips. To me she said, “I am sorry I was acting so monstrously to you. I guess I had a Jeckel complex I was trying to hide”. I smiled and said, “At least it wasn’t a vampire thing. That would have sucked”. After an awkwardly sharp pause, and although I felt like howling at the moon, I wolfed down the rest of the instant pudding. Then I broke the silence by asking, “You said you needed to be frank and…something?” “Oh yes”, she responded.
She looked around quickly and took a deep breath. “I think I am being watched.”, she blurted out. “I just don’t feel safe. Maybe I am a little paranoid, but there are times when I can feel eyes burning into the back of my head”. I told here that it certainly seemed likely that any guy would like to look at such a beautiful woman. I offered to take her out to buy her a hot chocolate and we could discuss the case in more depth. Besides, I left the binoculars on the filing cabinet and had to get her out of the office.
I hurried her out into the hall. I then asked if we could spend a little time together off of the clock. She said we’ve got nothing in common, no common ground to start on. I said, “Well, what about breakfast? At Tiffany’s?” She thought about it and said, “Well that’s one thing we’ve got”.

(I wrote most of this myself, but I also stole some ideas as well)

Where it's at?

You know, it's almost 2006. It appears that this computer age isn't going away anytime soon. So ya think someone could get around to inventing a keyboard with a button dedicated to the 'at' symbol? You know, the @ in the middle of everybody's e-mail. I am getting tired of the shift-2 move. This symbol, called the 'commercial at' or an 'amphora' needs it's own key. Any time now...

Hey, its another poem. Not a great one, but its inspired by a true story.

Shortwave

Fed up with the silent indifference,
I scan the airwaves for a sign.
Seeking out signals, I know
there is something in the air.

Do you have a frequency?
and how can I turn you on?
Give me something to tune in,
maybe just a short wave.


.

Well, its Thanksgiving here in the States. Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. I am blessed to have enough to eat and lots of family around to spend the day with. And while I have more than my share of my blessings to tell you about, I am only going to say I am thankful for the holiday itself. A whole day dedicated to reflecting on the good things you have. And luckily, the holiday is largly un-corrupted by commercialism and annoying cartoons. Ya got that Charlie Brown one, but that's a good one.

The only bad thing about Thanksgiving is it signals the unleashing of the Christmas juggernaut. Granted there is the glorious aspect of the birth of my Lord which I celebrate, but there is so much the rest of the world is throwing at everyone, it makes it tough for me to get fully excited. But that is a blog for another time.

I guess if I have a point for all this, it is that I'd hope if you celebrate thanksgiving, you'd remember the real point of it. It is much more than a levee that holds back the enivitable flood of Christmas jingles and commercials.

The Liquor License

I’ve been thinking a bit about the liquor consumption here in Utah, and I had two thoughts.

The first is the vilifying of people who smoke and drink in Utah. I know quite a few Mormons who do this. Not cool. Mormons such as myself of course are instructed by our church leaders to refrain from coffee, tea, alcohol, tobacco and harmful drugs. We call it the “Word of Wisdom”. But sometimes we Mormons forget that while we believe it is an inspired teaching, it also is only given to the members of the LDS church. The world at large, while it would certainly greatly benefit from restraining from those things, is under no religious obligation to follow this health code. I feel we Mormons shouldn’t view someone who isn’t of our faith as a ‘vile sinner’ just because they don’t adhere to the same teachings we follow. My Jewish friends don’t get on my case if I have a BLT around them. They know that the kosher standard doesn’t apply to me because I am not Jewish.

My second thought is that I think the whole legal system controlling the sale of alcohol in the US is backwards. If the government wants to keep alcohol as a controlled substance, then it should make extra safeguards on its purchase. Restaurants and stores are required by the government to carry Liquor Licenses to be able to sell the stuff. This is fine, but I feel that those who need to have the liquor license are the consumer. If the consumer wishes to purchase and consume an alcoholic beverage, then they would need a special license to do it. This would be shown at the time of purchase, whether it be at an Appleby’s or a Circle-K. If the consumer hasn’t applied for a license, then no sale. The minimum age for such a license would be 18 years old. If a minor is caught drinking before this, a hold of 6 months could be placed on their acquiring their own license. It should also be part of the program for law enforcement officers to check for the license of those they feel might be in violation of the program, in a similar fashion to a game warden has the right to check fishing and hunting licenses and impose fines if necessary.

The license could also be tied to driving privileges. If the consumer is caught driving while under the influence, their liquor license would be suspended for 6 months or an appropriate time. Further DWI’s could bring more severe penalties. If a serious crime is committed while under the influence of alcohol, then the license could be revoked permanently.

Call your local congressman. If our states and country want to make alcohol a controlled substance, then they need to be serious about and do it right. This is one idea.

Pun of the post: "So we blew all of our money on the limousine rental and now, what do we have to chauffer it?"

Lately I am a-political. As Mormons, we believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men; indeed, we may say we follow the admonition of Paul - We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things.

I sadly, don't see really any of these qualities in many of our elected officials. And I certainly don't see so that is much virtuous or praiseworthy in my friends who are extremely politically active. As for me, I am a disciple of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. First and foremost. All too often, I see well-intentioned Saints putting political ideology ahead of the doctrines of the Gospel. If the party you espouse has similarities to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, it is because that party is imitating the Gospel, not because your party has a monopoly on the Gospel. Be careful you aren't confusing a necessary evil for the actual message of peace.

Dear Prudence,

Good morning, good morning! Good day sunshine, here comes the sun and I feel fine. I am the walrus and this is my pet Rocky raccoon. I was back in the USSR, about the time of revolution #9, where this boy spent many a hard day’s night on a yellow submarine, under Sgt. Pepper, until I got my ticket to ride.

There is a place where I live near Abbey Road and Penny Lane (the one after 909), where I’m a paperback writer for mean old Mr. Mustard. It sounds like junk but it is a beginning. I was in my octopus’s garden fixing a hole with Maxwell’s silver hammer, because I’m a day tripper, and if I fell, I’m down.

The night before yesterday was my birthday, and lovely Rita, she came in through the bathroom window but I saw her standing there. Ain’t she sweet, and I love her. We can have a taste of honey savoy truffle wild honey pie when I’m sixty-four, and I’m happy just to dance with you to rock and roll music, and I’d dig a pony; but on this birthday, money, that’s what I want. You never give me your money, so I can’t buy me love. Instead, dizzy miss Lizzie gives me a matchbox. Inside was an old brown shoe with a rubber soul. “For you blue from me to you, come and get it”, she said. I said, “Thank you girl. I thought it was for no one”. Oh darling, you can’t do that so honey don’t. I don’t want to spoil the party but hello goodbye. She said, “I want you, I need you”, and other words of love. “Love love me do and please please me”, she said. She said, “We can work it out so slow down what you are doing. Don’t pass me by”. But I should have known better. She said, “Hey Bulldog, you’re gonna lose that girl. She loves you. It would help if you would hold me tight. You really got a hold on me. I’ll get you got to get you into my life”. It’s only love and I guess I’m a loser. Girl, you know my name, look up the number. When I call your name, you’ve got to hide your love away. I’ll get by within you without you. If I needed someone to step inside love, you know what to do.

I’ll follow the sun, because I am the sun king. All I’ve got to do is drive my car down the long and winding road to Kansas City where a blackbird took me to a lady Madonna concert. It was her magical mystery tour with the Bad Boys, being for the benefit of Mr. Kite. That was nowhere, man! After I gave Eleanor Rigby all my loving, so roll over Beethoven! Boys, she’s a woman with a devil in her. I’ve got a feeling the two of us will find real love.

I think I will have to walk through the strawberry fields forever in the rain when…wait, I’ve just seen a face. It is the fool on the hill in the middle of the Norwegian wood. “Hey Jude, do you want to know a secret?” I said, “Oh, baby it’s you. Hello little girl. Think for yourself, Michelle. You like me too much. Too bad I don’t love you too”. She said, “I want to tell you Ob-la-di Ob-la-da is the word, yes it is! Tell me what you see”. “I’m looking through you”, I said. “You won’t see me because baby’s in black. Ask me why”. “Tell me why!” I demanded. No reply. I said, “Don’t bother me little child, I was getting better ‘till there was you”. That was something, the things we said today. It seems like everybody’s trying to be my baby, especially Her Majesty.

I’m so tired. I’ll get you a teddy boy. Soon I’m only sleeping golden slumbers like dreamers do. Goodnight! I dreamt what goes on in a glass onion. We played games and the last of the piggies would cry baby cry.

Now I want to get back, but I’ve come too far across the universe for that. I’ve looked here, there and everywhere for Lucy in the sky with diamonds, but she’s leaving home. I’ll cry instead, while my guitar gently weeps. It won’t be long, with a little help from my friends.

So, if you see that blackbird for not a second time, let it be free as a bird. Pay the taxman and carry that weight. When a day in the life of every little thing seems helter-skelter, don’t twist and shout or run for your life; remember all things must pass, that they will come together in the end in spite of all the danger, so bear the chains of misery. In my life, happiness is a warm gun. All you need is love. Baby, you’re a rich man and your bird can sing. Julia, I wanna hold your hand because I want to be your man. I’ll be back so don’t let me down.

P.S., I love you.

This is a greatly expanded version that I put together based on a concept by Whimsical Will.

Are you taking yourself seriously? Well, stop it. I know you and you aren't that cool. So tell yourself your best jokes and pretend you are hilarious. Besides, as the Nibley once said, "If you take yourself seriously, you will never take the Gospel seriously, and the other way around".

A quote from Brigham Young:
"I want to tell you, each and every one of you, that you are well acquainted with God, our Heavenly Father...You are well acquainted with him, for there is not a soul of you but what has lived in his house and dwelt with him year after year; and yet you are seeking to become acquainted with him, when the fact is, you have merely forgotten what you did know".

Bad pun of the post:
"One time I made a spud pun so bad that Mr. Potato Head rolled over in his gravy".

Allrighty then... I haven't posted anything in a few days, so here's a sappy poem I wrote for a girlfriend, but that was a long time ago. Sorry about the mush.

The Best Thing

Being barefoot on the lawn
is what is going on,
and a swing on a tire
will always inspire.
Giving you roses, striking brave poses,
butterflies tickle our noses.
Silly geese of a feather,
when we are together
it’s the best thing ever ever.

A race on a sled
will turn your cheeks red.
Snowflakes on your tongue
will help keep you young.
Angels in the snow, a sip of cocoa,
always laughing as we go.
If you don’t mind the weather
and join this endeavor,
you’ll find the best thing ever ever.

I don’t quite understand
why you like holding my hand
but there’s nothing I’d rather do
than go meander with you
Stealing a glance, taking a chance,
sneaking out of the dance
I will never say never
and if you said 'Forever',
it would be the best thing ever ever.

Airplane! The Movie

No, this isn't about the disaster-movie spoof. But it is about video releases. Anyone walking the aisles of their local video store will invariably notice that many titles these days are now sold as the regular, "theatrical" release as well as in an expanded, "uncensored and unrated" version with footage that is "too hot to see in theaters". Now I'm not particularly familiar with those movies, nor their content, but I think it brings up an interesting point to the Hollywood film makers. I don't go to see these movies or rent them on video just because they have parts in them (profanity or nudity) that I find offensive. Which is too bad, because many of these films only have profanity or nudity only to garner the PG-13 or R rating. If you want to see them, that's fine, you've got the right. But I don't because I don't want any of that stuff in my head.

Here in Utah, we have a number of video stores offering the rental of PG-13 and R rated movies that have offensive parts edited out. These new ‘clean-flicks’ have garnered a bit of popularity here among those who want family-friendly entertainment. These edits have also gotten the attention of the motion picture studios, who have threatened to litigate against these video stores for editing their movies, claiming copyright infringement. Now while I respect these stores attempt to offer more family-friendly movies, but I don't think that this justifies breaking the law. Two wrongs still don't make a right.

This seems like an ideal place for a compromise. The movie studios ought to investigate releasing alternate edits of their movies with a bit more mild content. Now I'm not referring to movies that I would imagine would cease to exist as edited versions, like American Pie or the 40 Year Old Virgin; but those movies that have brief profanity or brief nudity, which feature them only to get the ratings that the studios believe will attract viewers.

Should the studios make edited, cleaner versions of their films that are suitable for families? Oh, wait. They already do. They edit their movies for showing in long airplane trips. These versions are just what the 'clean-flicks' video stores make, but they are fully sanctioned by the film industry. The industry should make these 'airplane edits' available to the public. If the blockbuster movie store down the street can sell legal studio-produced 'Un-Rated' versions of these films, why do they always have to be the versions that are more extreme? Give us the option of these other edits as well.

A Quick Update: I just saw a commercial for a movie called 'G'. It was rated R. Is this irony?

And I forgot my bad pun of the post: On my last trip to London, I couldn't wait to see the Big Ben clock tower. Why? Because it is the 'tock' of the town.

In the blogginning...

this blog was created by Mark. And Mark saw that the blog had the potential to be good.

As such, I thought I'd lay down some ground rules:

1. I will keep the content here full of words that I find to be easy to spell.
2. I will write topics that are interesting to me. If they are of interest to you, that's a bonus.
3. As a devout and pious disciple of Jesus, I'm not going to write about anything that would be contrary to his teachings.
3a. I'm not going to get preachy or evangelical. I preach through actions and prefer to do any sermonizing face to face.
4. Politics bore me. I'll rarely get political. I'm generally conservative, but I don't hold any party lines.
5. I will limit any ranting and ravings to a minumum. No one wants to here me go on and on about someone who might have cut me off that day.
6. Dumb humor and bad puns will be an occasional part of the blog.
7. Rules can be added to at any time.

That's it. I've only got the rules up for me to follow and to give any reader something to expect.
As soon as I have some deep (or otherwise) thoughts, I'll be posting more.

Thought of the post: "You've got to be very careful if you don't know where you're going, because you might not get there." -Yogi Berra

Bad Pun of the post: "Some people say that birth is difficult on a baby, but I think they have a soft spot for it".