One of my favorite poems...
In A Perfect World
I'm married to two women, twins,
one with fleshy breasts & hips.
The other twin's been raped,
a good-sized scar's on her face.
She fits into the smallest
pair of women's pants.
I love her for her turmoil,
that scar, its shame.
But because I'm dazzled by
the control that's buried
in the appearance of perfection
in the women I fuck,
I only get hard
for the other one,
a blue hallway
in a freezing home.
Duane Esposito from Cadillac Battleship
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Letters #9 (Last)
-You
Baby you're pretty like a car crash...You let me walk away. I'm the hit of your search party...I'm gone.
-Me
ETID
Baby you're pretty like a car crash...You let me walk away. I'm the hit of your search party...I'm gone.
-Me
ETID
Letters #8
Dear April,
"What we're doing is so wrong, and what you're wearing is so right (it's so tight). But I've never felt better so I'm going out to get her and I don't care what set of wheels I steal to get there. Balance is a minor setback. What she thinks is all right, and the way she looks is just fine. She sure as hell ain't you, but lord knows she'll have to do. She don't know I'm alive but neither do I so there's nothing left to lose. If I could only make it make you want to want me. One more drink, I think, should do. I wish that I could say I love to watch you walk away, but you probably won't be back in time to hear it. So it's just as well. No one out there gets back in alive. So I'll love the way you stand so close to a guy who we both know can't get near it. Strike when ready. Burn the highway down. Let me hear her high heels moan. I'm ready, set, go. There's cocaine in the key that took us from the bar to her car to the bedroom. Only the lonesome love us. Only the careless can handle us. What's wrong with us that we're so unamused?"
Love,
I've Been Gone A Long Time
ETID
"What we're doing is so wrong, and what you're wearing is so right (it's so tight). But I've never felt better so I'm going out to get her and I don't care what set of wheels I steal to get there. Balance is a minor setback. What she thinks is all right, and the way she looks is just fine. She sure as hell ain't you, but lord knows she'll have to do. She don't know I'm alive but neither do I so there's nothing left to lose. If I could only make it make you want to want me. One more drink, I think, should do. I wish that I could say I love to watch you walk away, but you probably won't be back in time to hear it. So it's just as well. No one out there gets back in alive. So I'll love the way you stand so close to a guy who we both know can't get near it. Strike when ready. Burn the highway down. Let me hear her high heels moan. I'm ready, set, go. There's cocaine in the key that took us from the bar to her car to the bedroom. Only the lonesome love us. Only the careless can handle us. What's wrong with us that we're so unamused?"
Love,
I've Been Gone A Long Time
ETID
Letters #7
Dear April,
"This isn't at all unpleasant. I'm enchanted by the lavish ballet, and I'll whistle the tune all the way to the gallows that I heard at the cabaret. At the sheriff's signal, the orchestra moves the floor. Don't it make you feel wonderful? Body twisting strictly ballroom. Criminally elegant, ideal postured Viennese waltzer. I'm dressed to kill. I'm weightless and well rehearsed. In my godless opera my character is canonized. Uphand me. This is a musical and nothing goes wrong. Can't keep the classics out of the head of the masochists. Strike up the band. It's 245 beats for a measure or 5 beats per 6 steps on alternating feet. The show must go on. Never mind the teeth and fingernails, the show must go on. I don't feel at all like I thought I would, but I could probably go on like this forever. Tonight, we dance, for tomorrow they release the dogs. 1,2,3. Keep it up. 1,2,3. Savor it. (Where is my head? Where is my heart?) Everything vanishes."
Love,
My Last Night In Town
ETID
"This isn't at all unpleasant. I'm enchanted by the lavish ballet, and I'll whistle the tune all the way to the gallows that I heard at the cabaret. At the sheriff's signal, the orchestra moves the floor. Don't it make you feel wonderful? Body twisting strictly ballroom. Criminally elegant, ideal postured Viennese waltzer. I'm dressed to kill. I'm weightless and well rehearsed. In my godless opera my character is canonized. Uphand me. This is a musical and nothing goes wrong. Can't keep the classics out of the head of the masochists. Strike up the band. It's 245 beats for a measure or 5 beats per 6 steps on alternating feet. The show must go on. Never mind the teeth and fingernails, the show must go on. I don't feel at all like I thought I would, but I could probably go on like this forever. Tonight, we dance, for tomorrow they release the dogs. 1,2,3. Keep it up. 1,2,3. Savor it. (Where is my head? Where is my heart?) Everything vanishes."
Love,
My Last Night In Town
ETID
What JohnO's Dad Said II
So my dad and I get into these fights all of the time, usually just playing around about how I have this great education but I am still a dumb ass...
So we started firing insults back and forth and then he dropped the bomb!
JohnO's Dad: "You know what? Why don't you go piss up a rope."
So we started firing insults back and forth and then he dropped the bomb!
JohnO's Dad: "You know what? Why don't you go piss up a rope."
Monday, April 27, 2009
The Truth About The Truth
Something that has really been chapping my butt cheeks lately is the whole Truth Campaign. You know those overly happy, dancing, smiling, theater majors. Now don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with teaching the youth of the world that smoking is bad. I have a problem with their approach and the out dated reporting by these happy little fuckers.
Truth Formula:
Happy dancing in the middle of a crowded street, loud yelling, 40 year old researching, *’s everywhere...
In 1977 Big Tobacco...Lied
In 1983 Big Tobacco...Lied
In 1967 Big Tobacco...Lied
We know that they lied badly in the past. Switch it up a bit.
Where I see Truth In 10 Years:
Happy dancing in the middle of a crowded street, loud yelling, 40 year old researching, *’s everywhere...
I just want something new; at least 10 years old and a new, non dancing, dragging you into shock and awe approach.
Truth Formula:
Happy dancing in the middle of a crowded street, loud yelling, 40 year old researching, *’s everywhere...
In 1977 Big Tobacco...Lied
In 1983 Big Tobacco...Lied
In 1967 Big Tobacco...Lied
We know that they lied badly in the past. Switch it up a bit.
Where I see Truth In 10 Years:
Happy dancing in the middle of a crowded street, loud yelling, 40 year old researching, *’s everywhere...
I just want something new; at least 10 years old and a new, non dancing, dragging you into shock and awe approach.
Letters #5
Dear April,
"Oh lord, I am saved. Judge says I'm fit to swing. 'Bout time, I have prayed my woman just might wear my ring. Oh you know I'm no good. You know I'm no good at court ordered goodbyes but when I'm gone you'll see I'll be a better man yet. For the dispossessed get taken back into your arms better keep me close to your heart. You'd better keep me close to your heart. The divine had me cornered in a storm and let me walk out the front door at the scene of the crime. Hang 'em high. Keep your vows brief let him swing. Make his swindle an art. And if you still believe that men guilty of love can survive, then hang 'em high or not at all oh you know it gets hard. It just gets so hard going limp in your arms. I am clutching a smoking gun. There's no chance of me walking out of here alive. This is all very literal. I can't bring myself around to write an excuse this time. We're liberated by the hearts that imprison us. We're take hostage by the ones we break throw the book. You had me strung up by the tail and you put me back. Hang 'em high. Keep your vows brief. Let 'em swing. Make his swindle an art. And if you still believe that men guilty of love can survive, then hang 'em high or not at all. Where did you get the privilege to pardon me?"
Love,
The Pigs
ETID
"Oh lord, I am saved. Judge says I'm fit to swing. 'Bout time, I have prayed my woman just might wear my ring. Oh you know I'm no good. You know I'm no good at court ordered goodbyes but when I'm gone you'll see I'll be a better man yet. For the dispossessed get taken back into your arms better keep me close to your heart. You'd better keep me close to your heart. The divine had me cornered in a storm and let me walk out the front door at the scene of the crime. Hang 'em high. Keep your vows brief let him swing. Make his swindle an art. And if you still believe that men guilty of love can survive, then hang 'em high or not at all oh you know it gets hard. It just gets so hard going limp in your arms. I am clutching a smoking gun. There's no chance of me walking out of here alive. This is all very literal. I can't bring myself around to write an excuse this time. We're liberated by the hearts that imprison us. We're take hostage by the ones we break throw the book. You had me strung up by the tail and you put me back. Hang 'em high. Keep your vows brief. Let 'em swing. Make his swindle an art. And if you still believe that men guilty of love can survive, then hang 'em high or not at all. Where did you get the privilege to pardon me?"
Love,
The Pigs
ETID
Letters #4
Dear April,
"Tonight I'm coming home in a coma if it fucking kills me. Listless but relieved, beaming like a newborn hostage. Orphaned by an ambulance. I got this new black eye just for you. Your hopeless romantic now helplessly rheumatic. Poets grinding teeth to powder. All my vowels are getting lost in the gauze. Misinterpret courting for the cursing of a drooling fool. Here's to cheap sex and codeine in a hospital bed. And maybe I'd object, if I felt at all alive. Everybody's dying to lay down with you. I got the order all wrong. I must have bumped my head. Maybe I should quiet down. Don't bet on another blackout. I'll be all right. There's an army at my window waiting to lose this fight. I'm the king of this all night clinic. The fucking champion. Tonight we'll feast like royalty in traction; happy and meticulous. There's a delicate love song in this; kicked out and dripping in verse. Go get your gun because God won't show. He sent a poet instead. The Don Quixote of the ICU. Quite impressive for a cripple. Munchausen by proxy of a muse. Tempt not a desperate man. This split lip is for you. I traded it for an outdated tooth."
Love,
Romeo A Go-Go
ETID
"Tonight I'm coming home in a coma if it fucking kills me. Listless but relieved, beaming like a newborn hostage. Orphaned by an ambulance. I got this new black eye just for you. Your hopeless romantic now helplessly rheumatic. Poets grinding teeth to powder. All my vowels are getting lost in the gauze. Misinterpret courting for the cursing of a drooling fool. Here's to cheap sex and codeine in a hospital bed. And maybe I'd object, if I felt at all alive. Everybody's dying to lay down with you. I got the order all wrong. I must have bumped my head. Maybe I should quiet down. Don't bet on another blackout. I'll be all right. There's an army at my window waiting to lose this fight. I'm the king of this all night clinic. The fucking champion. Tonight we'll feast like royalty in traction; happy and meticulous. There's a delicate love song in this; kicked out and dripping in verse. Go get your gun because God won't show. He sent a poet instead. The Don Quixote of the ICU. Quite impressive for a cripple. Munchausen by proxy of a muse. Tempt not a desperate man. This split lip is for you. I traded it for an outdated tooth."
Love,
Romeo A Go-Go
ETID
What JohnO's Dad Said
So with April coming to an unfortunate end I have set out to write about something new on a regular basis. The other night my father was acting really goofy and saying some odd things. So we both talked about it and I am going to start a segment of Holding Moments called, What JohnO’s Dad Said!
Let’s begin...
JohnO’s Dad (speaking to JohnO sarcastically): “So are you going to tit tit tonight?”
JohnO: “What the hell does that even mean?”
JohnO’s Dad: “You know, that thing everyone is doing; tit titing.”
JohnO: “Oh! You mean Twitter!”
JohnO’s Dad: “Yeah tit tit!”
JohnO: “No.”
That concludes our first segment of What JohnO’s Dad Said!
Let’s begin...
JohnO’s Dad (speaking to JohnO sarcastically): “So are you going to tit tit tonight?”
JohnO: “What the hell does that even mean?”
JohnO’s Dad: “You know, that thing everyone is doing; tit titing.”
JohnO: “Oh! You mean Twitter!”
JohnO’s Dad: “Yeah tit tit!”
JohnO: “No.”
That concludes our first segment of What JohnO’s Dad Said!
Friday, April 24, 2009
In The “Spirit” Of Hexing A Game
Recently benched from the Atlanta Hawks for terrible play was their mascot...Yeah that’s right! Their mascot Spirit the Hawk was benched for the rest of the series because of the disobeying orders to fly in and take out Dwyane Wade’s eye...I mean not flying off of the basket in some cute gimmick. This delayed the game and distracted the team enough that they lost...So now what’s going to happen when they find out that they are mascotless?
Some Teams Find A Way To Win...And Then There’s The Detroit Lions
Finally after several years of abuse from owners, other teams, and even their own fans the Detroit Lions have done something...No, they have not signed Georgia’s Matthew Stafford yet. No, Barry Sanders did not some out of retirement to carry his former team to victory. No, they still have not won a game in over a season. Are you ready for this one?
They got a new logo . . . (cricket sounds) . . .
Okay so maybe they need to spend a little bit more time locking down the great one from Georgia and a little bit less time on the aesthetics of their organization’s logo. This is one of those things that could help a team with their confidence. This new logo must be something fierce, something that could scare players when looking down on the 50 yard line, something...Wait...Have you seen the logo? It looks like the owner had an intern sit down with one of those white paint pens and make a mouth and a few extra lines.
It’s like I could hear the conversation . . . “Yeah there should be a mouth, and teeth we need teeth and I think there should be an eye and can we make him look 3D?”
Congratulations Detroit Lions, this new “intimidating” logo has bought you two wins this year...and a tie!
They got a new logo . . . (cricket sounds) . . .
Okay so maybe they need to spend a little bit more time locking down the great one from Georgia and a little bit less time on the aesthetics of their organization’s logo. This is one of those things that could help a team with their confidence. This new logo must be something fierce, something that could scare players when looking down on the 50 yard line, something...Wait...Have you seen the logo? It looks like the owner had an intern sit down with one of those white paint pens and make a mouth and a few extra lines.
It’s like I could hear the conversation . . . “Yeah there should be a mouth, and teeth we need teeth and I think there should be an eye and can we make him look 3D?”
Congratulations Detroit Lions, this new “intimidating” logo has bought you two wins this year...and a tie!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Something Else For You
The Hurt Locker
Nothing but hurt left here.
Nothing but bullets and pain
and the bled-out slumping
and all the fucks and goddamns
and Jesus Christs of the wounded.
Nothing left here but the hurt.
Believe it when you see it.
Believe it when a twelve-year-old
rolls a grenade into the room.
Or when a sniper punches a hole
deep into someone's skull.
Believe it when four men
step from a taxicab in Mosul
to shower the street in brass
and fire. Open the hurt locker
and see what there is of knives
and teeth. Open the hurt locker and learn
how rough men come hunting for souls.
Brian Turner from Here, Bullet
Nothing but hurt left here.
Nothing but bullets and pain
and the bled-out slumping
and all the fucks and goddamns
and Jesus Christs of the wounded.
Nothing left here but the hurt.
Believe it when you see it.
Believe it when a twelve-year-old
rolls a grenade into the room.
Or when a sniper punches a hole
deep into someone's skull.
Believe it when four men
step from a taxicab in Mosul
to shower the street in brass
and fire. Open the hurt locker
and see what there is of knives
and teeth. Open the hurt locker and learn
how rough men come hunting for souls.
Brian Turner from Here, Bullet
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Leaving Town For A Few Days So I Will Leave You With This
I am going to Urbana to clear my mind and chill with some of my friends! We plan on going to Murphys and that makes me think of the only poetry reading that I have seen in a bar, so I will give you something from that experience!!!
The Good, The Bad And The Ugly Share A Comb
It was a Mexican standoff
without the actual Mexicans
so we trucked in some
disassociated Japanese youths to stand in
and stand around in sombreros,
serapes and rusty old gun belts and
well, they really did a fantastic job
without looking like they gave two shits.
Their dead glares could have sliced cement.
Would you call that genetics or talent
or skill or luck or all in the almond-
shaped eye of the beholder? Who the hell
are you, anyway? Oh, it says right here
on your name tag. HI MY NAME IS:
Herr Gangbang Hammer [blink] I mean:
Theraflu Soup Socks [blink] I mean:
Titanium Caskets Half-off [blink] I mean:
You [blink] I mean:
Me [blink] I mean did we
piss that afternoon we kissed away away?
Or was it only me there - watching the sky
roll by, too quick, in my mind's eye only?
Jennifer L. Knox from Drunk By Noon
The Good, The Bad And The Ugly Share A Comb
It was a Mexican standoff
without the actual Mexicans
so we trucked in some
disassociated Japanese youths to stand in
and stand around in sombreros,
serapes and rusty old gun belts and
well, they really did a fantastic job
without looking like they gave two shits.
Their dead glares could have sliced cement.
Would you call that genetics or talent
or skill or luck or all in the almond-
shaped eye of the beholder? Who the hell
are you, anyway? Oh, it says right here
on your name tag. HI MY NAME IS:
Herr Gangbang Hammer [blink] I mean:
Theraflu Soup Socks [blink] I mean:
Titanium Caskets Half-off [blink] I mean:
You [blink] I mean:
Me [blink] I mean did we
piss that afternoon we kissed away away?
Or was it only me there - watching the sky
roll by, too quick, in my mind's eye only?
Jennifer L. Knox from Drunk By Noon
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Letters #2
To My Mistress April,
"...I don't feel well. I'll be leaving and you can't stop me. We've been carrying on too long. I'm sorry, but I'm gone. I've got a bad reputation to think about. I've been dirty, I've been wrong. Maybe someday they'll find that I've washed up. I'm stepping out to clear my head. I'm breathing in to fill my lungs. We're all dead. Farewell scenic highway overpass. It's better this way anyways. My lover, (April,) makes a better soldier than a bride. But I left my heart at the side of her bed and she's got the warmest body that I've ever had. Drag the lake, you'll find it's full of love. Bring the children to the water and let them see what heartache did. This matrimony needs a witness, and you can teach them to swim. Don't let your dreamers grow up to be dead men. Drown us at birth, save her some time. Drifting on romantic holiday, breathless as her cold arms cover me. Drag the lake. You will find it is full of love."
Sincerely,
Me. Finally.
ETID
"...I don't feel well. I'll be leaving and you can't stop me. We've been carrying on too long. I'm sorry, but I'm gone. I've got a bad reputation to think about. I've been dirty, I've been wrong. Maybe someday they'll find that I've washed up. I'm stepping out to clear my head. I'm breathing in to fill my lungs. We're all dead. Farewell scenic highway overpass. It's better this way anyways. My lover, (April,) makes a better soldier than a bride. But I left my heart at the side of her bed and she's got the warmest body that I've ever had. Drag the lake, you'll find it's full of love. Bring the children to the water and let them see what heartache did. This matrimony needs a witness, and you can teach them to swim. Don't let your dreamers grow up to be dead men. Drown us at birth, save her some time. Drifting on romantic holiday, breathless as her cold arms cover me. Drag the lake. You will find it is full of love."
Sincerely,
Me. Finally.
ETID
Letters #1
Dear April My Rushmore,
"Cut your break lines, brake your headlights and waited for you at the stop sign. Disconnected iron lungs, insurance fires, our smothered young. Always the first one on the scene. A pyromantic midsummer nights dream.
Thank you lord:
1) for this oil slick.
2) for her car wreck.
3) for I'm lovesick.
Heaven sent us a hero, but Hell tried to his resolve. And when you thought we were done for. I pulled through. While you rested your eyes in the driver seat, I sat and watched you. Always the first one on the scene. A pyromantic midsummer nights dream. Trust me. We'll wait for it, pray for it, step on the brakes till we're over it, under it, screaming like bombs for it. Oh dear me, I've done it again.
Thank you lord:
4) for the loaded gun.
5) for the bad aim.
6) for I'm lonesome.
God is smiling down on us, he shines his grace on everyone..."
Sincerely,
"I have no lover and she hasn't the prettiest eyes."
ETID
"Cut your break lines, brake your headlights and waited for you at the stop sign. Disconnected iron lungs, insurance fires, our smothered young. Always the first one on the scene. A pyromantic midsummer nights dream.
Thank you lord:
1) for this oil slick.
2) for her car wreck.
3) for I'm lovesick.
Heaven sent us a hero, but Hell tried to his resolve. And when you thought we were done for. I pulled through. While you rested your eyes in the driver seat, I sat and watched you. Always the first one on the scene. A pyromantic midsummer nights dream. Trust me. We'll wait for it, pray for it, step on the brakes till we're over it, under it, screaming like bombs for it. Oh dear me, I've done it again.
Thank you lord:
4) for the loaded gun.
5) for the bad aim.
6) for I'm lonesome.
God is smiling down on us, he shines his grace on everyone..."
Sincerely,
"I have no lover and she hasn't the prettiest eyes."
ETID
Easter Means; God, Death Threats, Jack Daniels, And Poetry
In honor of Easter passing, the passing of my employment, and all of the death threats that I received while working...
"The Hare Club for Men"
Any parent knows that they have to keep this idea going as long as possible.
The twinkle in their child’s eye is something unspeakable. As for myself;
I feel the same way, but I am the idea. My tools are in the way that I act
around the children. I pretend that I eat really healthy. It’s the way
that they have everything to tell me and I cannot tell them anything. A child
needs someone like me. They need to believe and they need to cherish
the lack of knowledge that they have before they get older. The eggs,
the pastel colors, the pictures, and soar arms from lifting...
Nowadays, kids are starting to grow up a lot faster
than they used to. They are getting everything they wanted plus
more and they really don’t see that they are breaking my spirit.
They want to unmask me. The older ones think
it is cool to try to beat me up, but I just have to stay silent,
wave, and continue on with the tools that were given to me.
In response to Luis J. Rodriguez’s Carrying My Tools
This is a Petrarchan Sonnet! It is still a work in progress. Enjoy!
"The Hare Club for Men"
Any parent knows that they have to keep this idea going as long as possible.
The twinkle in their child’s eye is something unspeakable. As for myself;
I feel the same way, but I am the idea. My tools are in the way that I act
around the children. I pretend that I eat really healthy. It’s the way
that they have everything to tell me and I cannot tell them anything. A child
needs someone like me. They need to believe and they need to cherish
the lack of knowledge that they have before they get older. The eggs,
the pastel colors, the pictures, and soar arms from lifting...
Nowadays, kids are starting to grow up a lot faster
than they used to. They are getting everything they wanted plus
more and they really don’t see that they are breaking my spirit.
They want to unmask me. The older ones think
it is cool to try to beat me up, but I just have to stay silent,
wave, and continue on with the tools that were given to me.
In response to Luis J. Rodriguez’s Carrying My Tools
This is a Petrarchan Sonnet! It is still a work in progress. Enjoy!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
For The Fighters; NCAA...The End
Dear April,
So, I guess it is all over then...A year of commitment; love was gained and love was lost. It was a battle.
UNC finally beat Michigan State 89-72 (prediction 77-65) for the National Championship. This was UNC’s second Championship in the last five years, the last one was against another Big Ten team that some of you might like, Illinois Fighting Illini. UNC was a team that had a goal from day one and you could tell nothing was going to stop them.
Final Stats:
49 Wins
12 Losses
99.05% (meaning .95% of www.espn.com brackets were better than mine)
A Ranking In 44,101st place out of millions (4,630,499 from what I know of)
In the end, I did not win. I ended up doing better than last year and I never thought that I could even do that! Maybe next year I can record a win!?!
Right now, I think a break from the Fantasy Sports will be good for a while...I just want to enjoy Baseball (Chicago Cubs) with a beer in my hand!!!
Miss You,
A Fighter
So, I guess it is all over then...A year of commitment; love was gained and love was lost. It was a battle.
UNC finally beat Michigan State 89-72 (prediction 77-65) for the National Championship. This was UNC’s second Championship in the last five years, the last one was against another Big Ten team that some of you might like, Illinois Fighting Illini. UNC was a team that had a goal from day one and you could tell nothing was going to stop them.
Final Stats:
49 Wins
12 Losses
99.05% (meaning .95% of www.espn.com brackets were better than mine)
A Ranking In 44,101st place out of millions (4,630,499 from what I know of)
In the end, I did not win. I ended up doing better than last year and I never thought that I could even do that! Maybe next year I can record a win!?!
Right now, I think a break from the Fantasy Sports will be good for a while...I just want to enjoy Baseball (Chicago Cubs) with a beer in my hand!!!
Miss You,
A Fighter
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Day Nine...NCAA (Final Four)
2Michigan State beat 1UConn and 1UNC beat 3Villanova...
So it will be 1UNC and 2Michigan State in the National Championship! Even though Michigan State has an amazing deffense I do not think that they can keep up with a UNC team that can go so deap. I have UNC winning 77-65.
Stats:
98.62%
1 win this weekend
1 loss this weekend
50 wins total
12 losses total
64,069th place
I actually took a hit from last week...
So it will be 1UNC and 2Michigan State in the National Championship! Even though Michigan State has an amazing deffense I do not think that they can keep up with a UNC team that can go so deap. I have UNC winning 77-65.
Stats:
98.62%
1 win this weekend
1 loss this weekend
50 wins total
12 losses total
64,069th place
I actually took a hit from last week...
Thursday, April 2, 2009
For The Fans; A Gift
Dear April,
Thank you so much for the early Christmas gift! I love it and will expect it to bring many more good things!
Today the cheap ass fucking team known as the Chicago Bears went out and got what they wanted, just like that...The Bears Quarterback problems are officially over! Nine teams were looking at Denver Broncos Quarterback Jay Cutler and we got him and a 5th round draft pick. For a ’09 1st round pick, a ’09 3rd round pick, a 2010 1st round pick and our starting Quarterback Kyle Orton (that guy with that beard).
Yes, Orton was a good player but Cutler is a young Favre! This kid is amazing! He threw for over 4,000 yards (franchise record…better than Elway?!) last year and is a Pro Bowl QB! He is now the face of our franchise! With this I think that we win the division already!
Love,
A Fan
PS
Was Orlando Pace a New Years gift?
Thank you so much for the early Christmas gift! I love it and will expect it to bring many more good things!
Today the cheap ass fucking team known as the Chicago Bears went out and got what they wanted, just like that...The Bears Quarterback problems are officially over! Nine teams were looking at Denver Broncos Quarterback Jay Cutler and we got him and a 5th round draft pick. For a ’09 1st round pick, a ’09 3rd round pick, a 2010 1st round pick and our starting Quarterback Kyle Orton (that guy with that beard).
Yes, Orton was a good player but Cutler is a young Favre! This kid is amazing! He threw for over 4,000 yards (franchise record…better than Elway?!) last year and is a Pro Bowl QB! He is now the face of our franchise! With this I think that we win the division already!
Love,
A Fan
PS
Was Orlando Pace a New Years gift?
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
For The Travelers; NaPoWriMo
Dear April,
You have kept me so busy with a whore of a computer virus all day long and playing the Easter Bunny at a mall for a bunch of spoiled children and their rich Oxygen suckers of parents that I almost forgot about the poetry and beauty in you. Beauty in the form of me being pooped on twice today, therefore giving me a great story to tell my friends when I am drunk off of Whiskey this weekend. Oh, and yes your poetic ways...It is NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month (for those who are too high to figure out)!
This is a month where you should take the time to wake up, start drinking, and write one poem per day! I think it is also a time for male poets to not shave and prepare for Mustache May while the female poets should psychologically prepare for the porn star like invasion of the male poets during Mustache May!
Seriously, I am not planning on writing one poem per day. I am having extreme writers block ever since I graduated in December. I found comfort in photography, but I want to start writing again. I plan on using this month to read as much poetry as I can, and start to research my next poetry writing project. Hopefully April, you can knock me out of this rut.
Sincerely,
A Traveler
You have kept me so busy with a whore of a computer virus all day long and playing the Easter Bunny at a mall for a bunch of spoiled children and their rich Oxygen suckers of parents that I almost forgot about the poetry and beauty in you. Beauty in the form of me being pooped on twice today, therefore giving me a great story to tell my friends when I am drunk off of Whiskey this weekend. Oh, and yes your poetic ways...It is NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month (for those who are too high to figure out)!
This is a month where you should take the time to wake up, start drinking, and write one poem per day! I think it is also a time for male poets to not shave and prepare for Mustache May while the female poets should psychologically prepare for the porn star like invasion of the male poets during Mustache May!
Seriously, I am not planning on writing one poem per day. I am having extreme writers block ever since I graduated in December. I found comfort in photography, but I want to start writing again. I plan on using this month to read as much poetry as I can, and start to research my next poetry writing project. Hopefully April, you can knock me out of this rut.
Sincerely,
A Traveler
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