Out of the Blue

You bes about your own. That... is why it's yours. And then as you least expect it something gets added your portly stew. More ammunition. More reason. More confusion. More of what you were hoping for. ...or at least, yes, at least, weren't expecting. Not what you heard? That definitely isn't what I heard. But hey, gold access on your cameo kort isn't really half bad. So what if you cheated to get it. You got it. Right?

 

I hate to be the harbinger of bad news yet to come but... I don't think that's the way it works. Not down here in the works anyway. So forget what might be coming to you. It'll get here before you're ready to wrap it in any case. Even case 0.

I made this.
perfect.

Content

It's all about what you put down. what's inside. Fairly certain about are people these days. On the outside. And I'm thinking to myself... that's nice. Very nice of them. Nice and true. And pleasant. like a pheasant. It not only satisfies the demands... it also satisfies. And for sure when you are shooting poorly and failing miserably it's kind of nice. Of the common sort. So it comes again like it did last year but this time we're ready. There'll be no one to stop us this time.

Jiggity Jig

Come to find, I realized the other day that one's grounds of stompage aren't so much further than just under the hardwood. That is if you're looking down. And through one eye. It makes the field of view smaller and kills your depth perception so you can't tell the difference from the real deal. Which is nice. The real deal is so hard to come by these days. Times are hard. We're recessive. So forget those rubies and put on a nice pair of clogs. They'll get both jobs done faster. Of an un-natural sort. And yet can bet your lunch money on that.
Twice.

Time Will Tell

Things are really not so bad. I've committed no major crimes, had no major successes, dropped no significant putts, shanked no well meaning ball, shot no distant pheasant, ate with no fearsome gnome. You could say it is another day. What is up? What is new with thine self you may be inclined to ask? Well like I was saying... I've finished things, started things, ended things, and given things a try. I've slept a little. I've bought a couple things. I did have a meal or two in there. They were better than some of the other things. I did look around a bit. I've said some things and kept some more things to myself. So... nothing. But I can't really say that everything isn't. Of a sort. Bubble I think. Some one knows. Jones knows some one knows. And the other of the four. Case in point.

Genius in a bottle.

Let It Out

I don't know what you have going on right now but what ever it is... well I guess it might be cool. If so, stick with it. If not? Come join the lemon parade and get some batting practice in. It even tastes good on the inside. BearCat agrees. Besides, it's not like that test of yours is really going to change everything. This, however, may very well possibly could. Like a cabin in your woods or countdowns in your courtyard. But much more like coming home with saucy all over your oncy.

Sometimes It Can't Get Worse

Alright. It could. But it isn't likely. You had some fruit snacks. So they tasted like dirt. They were still fruit snacks. You even got to see some friends. Sure maybe you can only see them and not actually do anything with them but they were there. In the belly of that steel beast. There's even a palm tree. So it happens to look like it's going to die. It hasn't yet. They're even coming again. It may not be ideal but there's no pizza this time, no silence, no white lines, no faking your death. Okay so maybe there wasn't pizza last time either but those other things? Really not there.  Saddle up. Never mind what's coming in a few hours. Just keep on jivin'. You filled your quota anyway. What you don't know might not be up there. What you do know mightn't be either. Here's to not getting your coloreds and whites mixed up. No. Here's to not emptying the contents of an entire pen on that sweet white shirt you just bought. I'm gonna eat some homespun lasagna. I already spent 32 bucks on fresh sole.  These last three minutes are going to be a great day.

Three Years Later

Sometimes these things don't just die off nicely. Like an undamped transient in your transfer function. Positive feedback isn't really what you want in this case. But sometimes your poles are in fact in the right half plane and you know no amount of gain is going to bring your root locus back. But it's raining you say. Yeah. It is. And there're clouds out. Yeah. There are. And apples are still on the trees. Also true. There's thunder too. Don't forget that. I haven't. Fine. Maybe the locus only hits the RHP with too much gain... or not enough...  so in essence what we're dealing with is too much overshoot and possibly a critically damped system. Either way, I'm sure there's a steady state error in there. I'd think about using an integrator but this system saturates far too easily and, as you never really know where you are, wind-up could end up throwing you into a wall. So yes, I have no idea what my phase margin is but by golly Moses at least I know we have crossover.


On the maybe, next year I'll do a spectrum analysis. I could sure use one. Maybe two.

Almost Died

The other day I was attempting to mind the business of mine self alone but found that to be completely improbable. I couldn't just let it go. Sitting around in your mind for that long takes its toll. So instead I decided to jump in, in opposition of merely watching from above. I mean who wants to spectate anyway? I understand that some people think it's just as good but it canty be. you will realize one day that indeed it is not. And of course here comes the 747. Fancy them apples. Still I did had done a good deal more fun than you might think. I'm not sorry at all. Yet thinking it over now...  I realize that I...

No. And I didn't have to think about it. It's truth. Be careful what you light son.

Get Offended

Because chances are I like her better than you. Get in a tithy. You big sithy. You've got a lisp after all. You can't beat this. You can't have this. That's right. So don't even try.

It Could Happen to You

Especially when wet. I prayed for rain. It came. So I went to meet it. You think it be a coincidence. Oh friend you think too much. It couldn't have been better if it was hail. Imagine yourself. Soaked to a bike. Going ever so wetly over the beat. To the beat. Double time. You won't need to bring a drink. Or any crackers. Not even a hunting license. Just a pair of short riders. You'll find all the cabbage you could want. Maybe bring a jacket for style. And if you really want a friend buy one. Just get out there and all your dreams will come true. It happens.

Shoot.

Just because you couldn't do it then doesn't mean you can't do it now. Take chuck for example. Always in a book. Always sending something small. But when push came to shove it didn't go anywhere. No, of a sudden it was left south side near the body centered cubic in the scandinavian section. Löfgren maybe. Maybe not. So again. Nothing happened that time. Neither did your forty third shot. Or even the next twenty nine pulls. So has anything changed? Not so much. At least not in a functional direction. Too much juice? Not enough air? That's usually the way things go after running for a severy miles in the bush. Like trying to get sixteen all by yourself. Likely those assumptions are correct. But sometimes I just have a feeling that all things need a rest. Even your couch. Please your couch. Let tomorrow have a shot at something. Just don't point it at your face while troubleshooting; getting things working just isn't the same. Even if the words are.

The Same Thing Really

I met a farmer the other day that had three head of cattle stuck in a ditch a little down the lane. I myself happened to be on my way toward several meetings of import on the council of relations between sundry nations. The field was open and I thought it not possible that any ditch did in fact run through the area that was in connection with the farmer. Surprisingly he did not try to assure that such was the case. I decided to investigate.

As I left, thinking that maybe I would find a penny or to on the way to ease the thought of missing the council, I walked upon a small bunny. Now as I have many times warned others of furry woodlanders I thought it strange that I should engage the rodent in conversation. I did. and I did. He turned out to be in connection with a party of south trodding equestrians who were without purse or scrip and stood in need of a meal. However, at the time of nearest approach of the cony I found none. So I continued on not wanting to increase the chance of catching a disease or other ailment. On second glance about my person there appeared two upstanding citizens that brought me to the town square of which I sought in my journeyings. Western United and its inhabitants had a peculiar glare that they always passed upon you. There appeared as it were not a cloud in their lonely abode. Nor had one come in over a fifteen year. Locksley they were a band. So I continued south crossing main street twice to avoid those seeking wares. Aware.

I don't seem to remember much after that. Whether I was attacked or abucted I really can't remember nor surmise bu this much I do know. The taste of pizza was bitter in my mouth when I came to. Having tried before and since I can't relate the exact state of space I was in. It's good in a box. With a fox. Trying on some socks. Near the docks. So I decided that I might as well forget what I had already forgotten and get on with life. Life? No. But at least grab myself an sandwich or something. Possibly a nap. For all I know the man had a hard day to. Probably 'cause people keep sticking it to him. So early? Late? It's like those dang notes. You decide. Or you.

Note to Self

6/25/09

Yes. There is something wrong. I've been wanting some lawn ornaments for the past little while. I was thinking a man drop kicking a badger. In bronze. Bronze is pretty cool stuff. It's the jazz you really need to dip your favorite things in. From shoes and legos to scoops and prize pennies. It's better than... a lot of stuff. So now you might be wondering why all this has surfaced now? Well, it's hotter than a chimp outside. I just try to remind myself that it's winter somewhere right now. Isn't that pleasant? Now I know that Big Time is thinking no, but maybe that's just because she's got a kid on the way.

Away ...and Away

Oh it has come now. The time is far in. I have long known it would come and now it is more than upon us. Suddenly. You see... it's still snowing but nothing is sticking. There're stars, but they're behind the clouds. Words come out but no one speaks Cree. So now what do you do? Well...  I've put a lot of thought into it and I think that only one choice remains. You throw out a blanket, a couple of lawn chairs, a basket of fruit and deviled eggs, and wait. Either one of two things will occur... you will end up running out of supplies or you will get kicked out of the park by the police for trying to set up a business without a permit. Be ready for both contingencies. anything else isn't really very likely. If we haven't shown you that by now well then I guess you'll never learn.

What Happened?

Built in the fifties. Built for things. Things uncommon. Fifty bucks says there were a couple of fights and possibly a rave or two that occurred here over the years. They assume that means that there would be some people involved but judging by the premises that's not the case. I assume the kid was theirs but I only assume. What did you last assume when you did? Did it bring you to a conclusion? Desirable? Attainable? Combustible? Somehow it's like there is a cheetah out there that thinks if it hides its face then you won't know it's there. But I do. And so do you. So why the hand in the face? So you can concentrate on other things? Cause you know you did. And still what you noticed was some gray sweater on someone else's  jazz. A surprising mix of  R&B. But probably not like you're thinking. And then it's back to the lab again. Or, well, this is a hangar.

Don't Pass On It

Time to give it another go? Another shot? Another try? Another round? Another valiant effort? Another do or die? ...but honestly given the past out come shouldn't you be dead by now? ...and no, not beside the point. Think about that one. Just think about it.





Pass it on.

Cute. Short.
Like a badger.

Skip Fall

What we need is a good icing. Like frosting. But without the sugar. And with less mallows. It's some odd zillion degrees outside. It puts a smile on this face of mine. Like a cheese cake. In mustard sauce. Think about it... there you are barely who knows how many years old, you've been married three times, waited in line for seven hours and only had half a cod sandwich to keep you going. Can things get better? Sure. But not around these parts. Not on the 17th. This is the best you've got. This is what your have been waiting for. This is where your butter goes. And your bread. Along with some mustard sauce. Regret nothing. Pay for nothing. Want nothing. These three and a few others will find your way to the end. And a joyful end it will be.
Grab your board and send for some hot chocolate. Snow is coming.

And it's about time.

Staring At The Sun

Believe me kids, there are bunnies out there that are out there for blood. That's what they came for. Hip-pity hop right to the jugular. If you can't just come on and accept that then this might take a little bit longer than I was originally thinking. Of course depending... that may be a good thing. A hard thing...  ...but a good thing. Like getting your ring washed down river or losing to an undefeated team. You knew it would happen when you jumped in but, now that it's gone, at least you know one thing you're not. And that makes finding out that much easier. In fact I think better than that is the truth that you just might get a free disc from the bushes. Washed ashore by the winds of improper pulls, searches and seizures. But don't hesitate for the woodland creatures. Shrubbery is usually just shrubbery. Old and rubbery. Forget what might be in the undergrowth and just look. Your ball is for someone else to find. So find theirs. You don't need it anyway. ...neither do they. Oh, and look up every once in a while. You'll find it's kind of nice that we're all lost alone in the woods...

...together.

Watch Where You Spit

So it has been realized that september has not yet commenced. There is still time to change some things. Like the length of the month for example. I think it ought to be shortened by at least 23 days. I mean in all honesty who doesn't think that it is long enough to kill a cow or two on the side of the road? Those of you who don't, keep your peace. or your piece. Whichever seems to come to you first. They might be more useful some other time in another situation where it mightn't be ignored. And that is a word. Now sure you may say that, hey Chucks, at least it's shorter than august. Sure but anything is shorter than august. It's an unrelenting beast. Always. That's not an argument. If the month is going to be treacherous then at least may it be short. And if not short then at least incoherent. And barring incoherence let's have some manner of dirge; though in all honesty a ditty might fit the job a little better. Billy had one. It caught him by surprise. But in the end he still got a ticket. The truth? Well again... you and I aren't ready for that.

Disappointment Served Daily

Now don't you think it's funny? Minding your own business doesn't get you anywhere. Yet then again neither does prepping yourself for landing. Either way it seems your train is jumping the tracks. I'll be honest with you, once you get over the initial 'I don't think I'm going to survive this one' it's quite fair from the there. And yes, I do like having my plans get lambasted as much as the next guy. Possibly more. So the next time you feel you're getting stood up, let down, looked over, run around, run over or left for dead just smile with the teeth you've got left and say... missed me again.

add a sucker for good measure.

Watch Yourself Or You May End Up Like Them

It's true you know. There are ways and means and aspirations. There are hints and allegations. Quite possibly there are a couple out there just like yours. Yes. You will try. ...yes. Sometimes the wind just blows too hard. Sometimes you don't have enough jazz to fill the bucket. Sometimes it is a long way down. But then... sometimes you get another shot at the falling monkey. Sometimes you even get two. So maybe Bill and Ted's adventure wasn't so excellent. Yeahbo...? There are other houses to be built. Heck, you could even build something else. Out of Legos. Just promise me you don't be shifting to be making cookies or something. The world has enough dang cookies.

Happy Birthday Mr. Bugle

 From in the loft above the trees
There were a mount of garner bees
Or rather in the mount they 'bode
And talked and pranced and jived and rode

They thought their place a pleasant one
Amid the crescent sullen sun
It was far fair and had a fence
That passed from thither on to thence

And brought to them three times a day
Were lemonades in bright array
A pink one and a purple too
Which filled them up as ades oft do

Then in a happy chancy while
Would come a guester from the Nile
To talk to them of things afar
To give them jerky from his car

The jerk you see was of a cub
Born seven years near yonder stub
Or is it called a stump? Ah yes.
Well there he lived in no duress

And as we know of heres and nows
Good jerky comes from happy cows
Like milk or butter, cheese or salt
An hamburger or chocolate malt

So like I said about these trees
They were infested by the bees
Which loved to dip in ades their jerk
And play all day but always work

Cause as you know and they did too
You can't buy ades or jerks with goo
As goo's not cash and cash's not cheap
You can't get some by counting sheep

You'll sooner find some in a well
Or get some if those sheep you'd sell
But sheep are sold on every street
So change it up and sell some skeet

It's easy fashioned easy sold
Made of dirt and reaping gold
But don't go selling door to doors
And waste your time ...like I did yours.

Bitter Epilogue

After 32 years in the business we are finally closing our doors. The Shop has been our home and our happiness over these troubled times and has performed the the act of journeyman to our souls. We would like to thank all our fans and our entrenched opponents for making this more than possible. We would like to have followed Gnarls advice and gone on but that seems to be implausible. May you all find comfort in the life that will find you. And may you think about what you've done.

I see a vacant seat on the corner of the porch. I see a chain whip without an owner, carefully preserved.  If these shadows remain unaltered by the future...

For Real This Time

more. A funny word. It looks like mole. And mores. And smores. Like a mom in a hole. lopsided and brandishing old musketry. And really oughtn't be of the english by the english for the english. It's like details. But more of belief. Don't get it?

Just keep looking. I'm sure that your battery will last if you take it that far.

Coming to Town

Bring out your kids and sell back your tickets to the circus cause something better is coming your way. Prepare yourselves because honestly if Auntie Em were around she'd sell every last cow she's got; and maybe some of uncle owen's water condensers. Comes as no real surprise; those are reserved for things like a moth in your pantaloons or a piece of pie on your doorstep from the postal service.

Better to Have Never Loved

Oh sure you may have just stubbed your toe. Maybe you even caught a cold. The sun may not be shining for some of you. Perhaps you hit a moose. Just perchancy a tree fell on your house. Wildfires could have just burned your fields of glory. Maybe you burned it down. Oh chance may have broken your leg. It could have given you typhoid fever, got you bitten by a rattlesnake and caught you hypothermia while being drug behind wild yaks. Likely you just found out your word usage is poor. But did you just have ten million dollars that was then taken from you?

I did.

I just think about that solid gold gondola I could of had ridden in while clothed in my diamond studded hammer pants and cry. Twice.

Stay the Course

Most people think of horses or dogs, little chinese kids or schools in uganda, income or economies, happy meals or meals on wheels, graduation or relocation, high hopes or low blows. For me? Just the good old flat ball. So don't try and suade me with your dreams of money or popularity, jobs or food, women or power. I've got both bad eyes on one thing and I intend to get it.

Sure Bet

How do you say? This is it. The culmination. It's friday. It's the end of celsius. And it's june. On grey street.
...and I'm still here.

As Tråkig

Few things are as boring as sitting in the chair I'm sitting in, looking at what I'm looking at doing what I'm doing while thinking about the things I'm thinking about. Really rather drove. Away. into the park. or at least somewhere nearby. Nearby is good seeing as you mightn't have registered your car before hand or even made yourself and your loved one a PBJ before entering full throttle as your preferred mode of trans-portation. Maybe if you'd portate in a state of greater responsibility then you'd have less barnacles in your basement. So really, you can sit and stew. Or you can just sit. And stew.

And Now I'll Show You How to Disappear a Grape

So at this moment in time I'm thinking about the police. They come in such large numbers and always cut corners missing this little girl and that stone there just past the corner. But let me tell you disappearances are upstanding these days. Outstanding really. Jon knows. You could ask him, but I don't think his lips can move. He's paraplegic after all. Think about it friends. Would you want this any different? I mean when roses are oasis what really could go wrong? CHIS-V. That's what codecs will get you. And they'll get you. And so will they. If you aren't already gotten that is. Lucky chap.

Well I guess it's about that time. It is 1:39 after all.

So without further ado... close your eyes for just a bit here...

Not So Uncommon

I got a late start the other day. It came as a late man walked with his late cane in the late evening. I couldn't tell where so much he was himself off to but he appeared to be going thusly way. suddenly. As I peered into the dark I thought I saw a lion with a mouse trap but as the fog drifted and the waves lifted what I found was not me but another on the bench in the mud. What did he come for? I wonder whether that is really what I wondered at that moment but in a moment found that wonder gone. I was alone. There were no trees. Only a brooke and some bags of candied apples that lay on the porch next to the potted plant. Hills and valleys. Figures and shapes of color and cut. Coming and going. I want to build balloon chairs for those who have none. I want to show people what fish can do for them. I want a basket. And I want all my eggs in it.