Thursday, September 30, 2010

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.

Monday, September 27, 2010

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.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

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.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

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.

Monday, September 6, 2010

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.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

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.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

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.

Monday, August 30, 2010

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.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

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.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

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.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

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.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

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...

Friday, June 18, 2010

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.