Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts

July 19, 2012

The Story of Mary Molly the Guacamole, And Other Nonsense Poems

"I loved a guacamole named Mary Molly,  
She went on adventures all over the city.  
She was clever as Kissinger & cute as a kitty,  
And as guacamoles go, she was tasty as gee golly."
Proudly announcing the self-publishing of our illustrated poetry book The Story of Mary Molly the Guacamole, And Other Nonsense Poems on the Amazon marketplace. You can read it on any Kindle app, and members of Amazon Prime can check it out for free from the Kindle Lending Library.
“The Story of Mary Molly the Guacamole And Other Nonsense Poems” is a beautiful illustrated book of strange, rhyming nonsense verse in the vein of Edward Lear and Lewis Carroll. The stories herein are sure to delight and appall readers of all ages. Romance! Adventure! Cross-Species Love Affairs! This collection contains “The Story of Mary Molly the Guacamole,” “The Story of Omega’s Rampage,” “The Story of the Long Distance Relationship,” “The Story of Barbara Ann and Barbara Allen,” “The Story of the Lizard Wizard of North Northumberland,” and “The Story of Meghan & the Mini Megatherium.” With more than thirty original full-color illustrations by Grainne Proinseas and Maymo Mary.

April 02, 2010

Consideration Song


Consideration Song


Like matchsticks soaked in olive oil, his detumescent pudenda,

Lubricated with espresso & soymilk, against a backdrop of blacktop,

He sets before her, registered in fifteen counties as a interspecies sex offender,
But also a genuinely nice guy, a shy fop, and a bit of a metaphysical rent-a-cop.

“Dear madam,” so he says to her, “please let me make my case,

“And you can judge me as a man, radiating viridescent bioluminescence,

“You can judge my stature & stamina, as the apex of my race,
“And consider my pathetic plea, down on one knee before your presence.”

“What do you want?” she responds. “I’ll consider the celebrity

“In sunglasses at midnight. Yes, I’ll wait for chipotle-flavored iguana
“In a latin restaurant frequented by the elderly. I’ll live in a city
“Of rum & obesity. And I’ll be gregarious whenever I wanna.”


Into Blake Street’s birthmark, not so much a pothole as a furious chasm,

Like lime squeezed in your cocktail of pain, he revs his engines.

His last girlfriend was a dugong, one suspected of artificial orgasm,
But now he comes to her with proposed fealty, humility, and courtly vengeance.

“Dear madam,” so he says to her, “If you find it convenient,
“Come live with me & let me be your Nicolas Sarkozy.
“Loud as space & silent as a dinosaur’s covenant,

“Please consider my pathetic pleas, perfumey, chocolatey & rosy.”


“What do you want?” she responds. “I’ll consider my colonoscopy

“Broadcast live on CNN. I’ll give careful consideration

“To a dead reindeer, yes. And I’ll keep a daily diary

“Of my expectral viscosity, yes, I’ll log every expectoration.”




Like a burnt up matchstick, beneath a dwarf magnolia,

He sits expired. Then, like Russia rearing his head above Alaska,

He ascends & at first stutters uttering the world "allolalia",

Collects himself & asks her faster than an answer from a paster from Nebraska.


"Dear madam," so he says to her, "Do you have any plans this Friday?

"Would you be available to me my date at a movie premiere?

"It's about the liquid siftings of pigeons, making the shroud untidy,

"Staining the rain white Friday night: Would you consider accompanying me there?"


"What do you want?" she responds. "My parents are in town Friday,

"But I'll consider a rain check. Yes, there's a goatee growing

"On my chin music. I'll consider scuttlebutting society,

"And fiends aflame! Pull up your zipper, your panties are showing."




Into Blake Street's birthmark, we find an underground conquistador

Hoarding gems & he discovers a fountain of liquid youth.

Meanwhile, a NASA shuttle has erupted from the water

And whizzes past Messenger Mercury, loose like the truth is sometimes uncouth.


"Dear madam," so he says to her, "Consider my plumage,

"My pinions stretched to the four compass points, my pettifoggeries

"Exiled to the ends of the earth. Consider the night nurse's rampage:

"Consider a marriage beneath Berkeley's blossoming magnolia trees."


"What do you want?" she responds. "I'll consider letting you have it.

"I'll put our pre-nup in the shredder & toss the shreds in a salad.

"No, I've judged your stamina & I'm snugglier now than a pregnant rabbit.

"Now consider my innocence, & know my imagination's hesitation was valid."


August 28, 2009

Elsewhere in the Blogosphere: Thoughts for the future

I had a couchsurfer this week, a Swedish girl who I met four months ago, she was supposed to stay with me then, disappeared & reappeared this week in urgent need of amnesty. She writes about sustainable cities also, like our Department of Non-Violent Non-Driving, at her weblog, environmentalistonamission.blogspot.com. For complicated reasons involving failed San Franciscan romance, she flew home early today back home to Sweden, & she was just gee-chatting with me from the airplane & writing more reactions of the bay area's urban planning. (I'm not sure if the drama influenced her opinion of San Francisco's public transit.) Her post is charming, so I will repost it word-for-word here:

It's easy to walk in San Francisco for sure, but the city is build for cars with straight roads (with an small exceptions of Lombart steet) and highways in different levels (!) at entrences and exits from busy roads. Where does everyone goes? Where does they come from? Do they need to take their car?

If you take the bay bridge over to Oakland and later to Berkeley you will see the highways in different levels, and maybe you would think in the same way as me- "is that a bridge for a railway?" -"no it was for cars" ""is that a bridge for a railway?!" "-no its another for cars" "that one then?!!!" and you look again and you see a truck like 50 meter up in the air.

Catastrophe!
Also.. when I walk I see things that people in cars doesn't matter (anyway you have to have the eyes on the road), and I just realised that many of both ugly buildings and spaces are just ugly cause noone is never walking there anyway. It's just the cars, and they don't look.

Originally posted here. Catastrophe!
Here's some of our airborne gee-chat, I'm not sure how much of my conspiracy theory is verity or truthiness, but it's worth spreading rumors about nonetheless. Pay closer attention to Judge Doom's plot in
Who Framed Roger Rabbit?

Anna: [...] I had a big big bed with like 6 pillows and a biiiiig cover and two enourmous windows in two different directions. and I could lay in the bed watching the view
2:14 PM haha maybe another time
do you think you will stay without Jenny?
me: For sure, I love that flat
The bay bridge used to have trolly car on the lower level
2:15 PM The "key system", the old public trains that went everywhere.
Anna: oh
me: Car companies bought them last century & dismantled them
Anna: I took one yesterday
2:16 PM oh
me: Now, cars every where.
Anna: really?
me: There's a book about it, the car conspiracy
I don't know what it's called
Anna: I'm sure I can find it?
2:17 PM or maybe the car companies burned that too
me: GM bought all the train cars in Los Angeles & killed them.

October 19, 2008

The Myth of Men and Animals

















Some OF THESE DRAWINGS CONTAIN LINKS TO ALL SORTS OF FUN.

April 04, 2008

The Golden Age of Fake Craigslist Personals

Good day! It's been a year now, & I just panicked because I was worried that Yahoo mail had deleted my "t_____" mail account, thus loosing all of the inspired responses from the phony Craigslist personal I posted in April of 2007. But they're still there! So, for the next week, I will slowly weed thru the several hundred & post some excerpts, preserved for posterity for their literary excellence.

A year ago, I was working long hours at a slow bookstore, so posting some fake personal ads, for the bemusement of our wallowing boredoms, seemed like a good idea. I had talked to a girl who said she got fifty responses in twenty-four hours. I challenged her that I could create a girl who could double that. I stole a picture from some poor stranger's MySpace, which I would love to post here, but it's a small world & I feel bad. Basically, it was a cute blond 23-year-old bending over a pool table, a fairly amateur, somewhat vague & fuzzy picture. This fictional creation, named Nevaeh Smithridge, had a whole back-story, some of which will seep out thru her follow-up e-mails. The original post:


all my friends started sleeping at night - 23 (mission district)

hey boys

im on the rebound after a terible love "rectangle"(ha!) why is everyone so boring in this city? my friends used to go out like every night and now there all like ive got to work for monsanto at 6 am. im like ill still be drinking tequila at six am bitch. i moved to the city two years ago (never to return to salt lake again cept for one of my stupid familys uncountable weddings). hoping to not remember my 20s very well. looking for a cute guys that don't pass out from fifteen shots or less. no short guys or computer nurds.


me: guys check me out on the n judah, but its hard not to with what i wear to work lol. i can watch napoleon dynamite a hundred more times if asked too. my five cd changer right now has too short, aaliyah, sublime, kanye west, and mos def (may he rest in peace the motherfucker). 5'7, blond, body made for dancing, up your ass.

you: steady income, no redheads, no opera, preferably tall and cares about his body, but not enough to not abuse it with shots of everclear. pool or darts. no vegetarians, yes yes yes good dancers. tall a plus. tween 24-34.

Let it be known that two hundred lonely men wrote her in less than twenty-four hours! I still feel sad for some of the nicer ones, but the vast majority of boys who respond to that, I assumed, wouldn't be too nice. Surprisingly, most lived outside of San Francisco, there were many replies from notably short men, from redheads, from vegetarians, from men over 34, from non-drinkers! I don't quite get why you'd respond to a personal if you are far off from what she's looking for...? Only two noted that Mos Def is among the living. Many, many pictures of studly guys, showing their muscles, a few penis-pics, more than a dozen with their motorcycle. For instance:

i am a lover of life i like everything and anything i am in to motorcycles as i think u know already i love music any and all kinds from rock and heavy metal to hip hop and slow dance with the right person i am very playful caring kind very loving who was married for 16 year faithfully till i found out that she had benn cheating on me for the last three years that is a deal breaker in my eyes i believe that people should be straight up and not play games and right now i am in search of my soulmate but friends our cool too which one our you how about that for a ending. in your court now.
thanks

P.S you can call me any time you like tonight would be great i live alone and i have a 9 year daughter who stays with me every other wekend i hope you and your son is having a great easter and i will talk to you soon [phone number]

Included was a picture of a portly man in front of a huge black car with huge tires. "You and your son"???

Now! Stay tuned to our weblog, & I'll post some more responses.... AND the e-mail she wrote back to a hundred lucky men.