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Friday Afternoon Throwdown


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If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

The sharp knife of a short life

Well, I've had just enough time

(Never switch to the radio station your kids listen to, you will be useless for the rest of the day)

The Band Perry-If I Die Young

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Rosa Mexicano sucks. It sucks! How much does it suck? It sucks, that’s how much it sucks. It sucks ducks, bucks, monster trucks, hockey pucks, guys named Chuck, migrant workers that shuck, lightning bolts that struck, sewage workers wallowing in muck, rear-wheel drive cars that are stuck, vagrants who are down on their luck, babys who taste spinach for the first time and say yuck, and don’t think for a moment I’ve forgotten about the word fuck. There!

[from the slim volume "the poems and philosophy of D. Rockwell"] :)

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I just this second realized it was Friday, and remembered this thread.

As I type, I have no idea what I'm about to write,

so here I go, completely winging it:

A laundry basket,

latticed,

sits at my side.

No, that's not going anywhere.

I just ate a bowl of grapes,

somewhat testicular in nature.

There are two shriveled ones

left at the bottom, with stem.

"Coming soon: Road Improvements!"

essentially means that your life

is fucked for the next five years.

"Please click for Software Upgrade"

means that your enhanced version

will put out tracking cookies, and

remind you about expiration dates.

When Evil Knievel jumped the

Snake River Canyon, he petered

out in a big way, but give him

credit for taking the risk.

My favorite quote from Steve Jobs

was something about there being

"no skeletons that can't be allowed out."

Sort of how I feel about myself.

Let those who live in glass houses ...

Is it possible, that I'll make it through this

without saying something that is crude?

Yes.

It is possible.

But highly unlikely.

So let Judge William Adams,

statute of limitations be damned,

live the rest of his life, knowing that he

will be condemned for all of eternity, because

the internet, this most permanent form of communication

has no statute of limitations - it is forever, and so his legacy will

be that of a child abuser, the smallest and lowest form of humankind.

Scumbag piece of shit.

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New Year's Resolution, 2015: Stop worrying about petty things.

Thinking of the very few people who make my blood curdle just to look at ... they are, without exception, grinning idiots, seemingly devoid of meaningful substance, and focused entirely on themselves and their own self-advancement. Show me someone of intelligence and reason, who completely disagrees with my views or philosophies, and I'll show you someone for whom I just bought a drink. Show me an imbecile devoted to the well-being of others, and I'll show you someone who has commanded my deepest admiration and respect.

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I opened my dresser drawer this morning, and saw a mouse in it.

"JESUS!" I screamed, and ran out of the bedroom.

Fang Die Maus is Whack-a-Mole in German. I know this because I saw it at an arcade back in the late 80s.

I'm lying about the dresser drawer and the mouse, btw.

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even though it isn't Friday afternoon...........

"Good luck Mr. Gorsky"

In case you didn't already know this little tidbit of trivia....

On july 20, 1969, as commander of the apollo 11 lunar module, neil Armstrong was the first person to set foot on the moon.

His first words after stepping on the moon, "that's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind," were televised to earth and heard by millions.

But just before he re-entered the lander, he made the enigmatic remark - "good luck, Mr. Gorsky."

Many people at NASA thought it was a casual remark concerning some rival soviet cosmonaut. However, upon checking, there was no Gorsky in either the Russian or American space programs .

Over the years, many people questioned Armstrong as to what the - 'good luck, Mr. Gorsky' statement meant, but Armstrong always just smiled.

On July 5, 1995, in Tampa Bay , Florida , while answering questions following a speech, a reporter brought up the 26-year-old question about Mr Gorsky to Armstrong.

This time he finally responded because Mr. Gorsky had died, so neil Armstrong felt he could now answer the question.

Here is the answer to "who was Mr Gorsky":

In 1938, when he was a kid in a small mid-western town , he was playing baseball with a friend in the backyard. His friend hit the ball, which landed in his neighbor's yard by their bedroom window.

His neighbors were Mr. And Mrs. Gorsky. As he leaned down to pick up the ball, young Armstrong heard Mrs. Gorsky shouting at Mr. Gorsky,

"Sex! You want sex?! You'll get sex when the kid next door walks on the moon!"

It broke the place up.

Neil Armstrong's family confirmed this is a true story.

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Not even close to a half-dead corpse crawling out of the grave, but I'm trying to get some tree work done, & I've called these guys 5 times since Wed. & they keep blowing me off, 'we're working in that area, I'll be there in 15 minutes'-damn, if I had a business, & someone wanted to hire me for a couple thousand dollar job, I'd show up.

For a Friday Throwdown, I should throw in some poetry, or try to dress it up-sorry, guys, just a homeowner trying to get some work done, I'm already conflicted about removing trees. Just hope I don't have nightmares about it.

& because I'm cranky, here's boys in khakis, singing a Taylor Swift song (you guys need to suffer)-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jz11SQJBeKk

I Knew You Were Trouble - UNC Clef Hangers (Fall Concert 2012)

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& because I'm cranky, here's boys in khakis, singing a Taylor Swift song (you guys need to suffer)-

The disturbing thing about this is the list of possible reasons for you knowing that this video exists.

There is a first for everything, and I suspect this is the first time this video has ever been shared.

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Still trying to analyze my recent interest in accapella groups, maybe I'm just envious because I can't sing at all. I worry about the kids who are in the background & just get to sing 'woop-woop' or 'Chhhh-chhhh' over & over.

Florida State University AcaBelles - Royals (opb. Lorde)

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I am a UNC-CH grad, & my daughter wants to go to CH (even though she's a VA resident).(not the first time it's shared). I will always support the Clefhangers...

My daughter graduated from UNC-CH this past May, and these boys sang at the graduation -- performing one of several versions of James Taylor's "Carolina On My Mind" we heard that day. It seems to be the unofficial school song. A friend of mine's mother now owns and lives in the house James Taylor grew up in, near the campus in Chapel Hill. His father was Dean of the medical school.

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I have many fond memories of my time at UNC-CH (& I'm resigned to the fact my kids probably won't go there), I can understand my son not getting in (out of state & not stellar stats), but my niece lives in NC, & isn't even applying, because she thinks she won't get in. I guess standards were lower when I attended. College is a racket (guess it always has been)....

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Gotta wonder what jay Z & JT must be thinking (not to mention that Kurt Cobain is spinning in his grave)- my kid is participating in a frat fund raising activity soon-he's in the lip synch group, & poor boy can't sing or dance.

UNC Clef Hangers-Holy Grail (Fall Concert 2013)

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Dear Mom,

I wanted to call you tonight and tell you about the wonderful day I had. I went to a place that I *think* we went to, over 43 years ago, but I can't be sure because I was just a small child. Dad is gone, you are gone, there is no phone number to call, there is no house to stop by, there is nobody to bring dinner over for, there is nobody for me to take care of, or to check up on. I don't know if we were ever here, and I don't know who to ask.

I always miss you both, but there are times when it is not bearable, and tonight is one of those times. I no longer have any responsibility to call you about anything, I have nothing to check up on you about or to worry myself sick over, dad is no longer there for me to visit in the hospital, you are no longer waiting for me to come take you out to dinner, or to stop by for a quick visit, and nobody is waiting for my daily phone calls to a number that no longer exists. You and dad are gone, forever.

I don't know if I've ever been here before, and it's one of the saddest moments of my life because today was such a beautiful day, and I wanted to share it with you both, and to see if either of you remember ever having been here with me.

But I'll never know, and I'm all alone, and I don't know what to do.

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I'm quite proud of this because I just made it up:

Q: What are the ramifications of a faulty rectal thermometer?

A: Mercury Mars Uranus.

Once when I was in graduate school, I challenged someone to give me a topic, and I'd instantly make up a joke on the spot.

The topic given to me was "lamp post."

A prostitute was standing under a lamp post. A guy comes up to her and says, "Hey, baby, how much?"

She says, "Fifty dollars."

The guy says, "Deal!", pulls out a fifty dollar bill, hands it to her, and walks away with the lamp post.

My friend rated it a 10 out of 10 for impromptu humor. :)

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Lame, certainly, but the worst thing ever written? Makes me miss dirty jokes & mouse sightings...

I think if you keep it in context, there's a legitimate case to be made: this was a serious attempt at satire, written by someone who was presumably paid to write it, and published on a hugely hyped website (*) which was owned and funded by Allbritton Communications.

This is the equivalent of saying the Yugo was the worst car ever made. Surely someone, somewhere, has built a worse car than the Yugo, but can you imagine trying to find a part for one right now? Not only is the company gone; the *country* is gone.

(*) In the interest of fairness, I should point out that I interviewed with them, twice, regarding becoming their restaurant critic. They did not want to pay for a restaurant critic, and instead wanted this website to become part of their blog network - I said no, and there was never a meeting of the minds.

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