Inappropriate

An inappropriate poem

This is an inappropriate poem.
The meter is off,
and the rhythm is just bad.
There's no rhyme scheme holding it together.
Plus it talks about itself. Totally ruins that fourth wall.

It's so very inappropriate.
It brings up words we don't use
in nice poetry,
like penis and vagina,
for no good reason.
And there's fucking cursing for no fucking purpose at all.

Quite inappropriate.
Also it talks about me, the narrator:
Hi there. I'm writing this, inappropriately.
The stanzas don't match and there's no clear
format.
Just improper and did I mention? Inappropriate.

Poop.

A sexy make out session

I was really sexy today. I'm driving and eating taco bell and I take a bite of my burrito, scald my mouth, instinctively open my mouth to get rid of the hot burrito, which then drips down my hand, burns my hand, and then looks ready to fall into my lap, so I try to engulf it with my mouth again. And burn my mouth. I'll bet it looked amazing.

Some poetry...

I wrote this last week, before hearing about hurricane craziness and the earthquake up in Canada. Seems pretty relevant...

Someday

Let’s say there is an earthquake

and no one is prepared.
The walls and ceilings collapse and shake
while people scream and panic; scared.

Let’s say the shaking grows more intense.
The ground begins to roll.
And people try to make some sense
of the unknown mounting toll.

Let’s say your child’s school falls first;
the hilltop houses start to slide.
And then the nearby dam does burst
as people scream, and drown, and cry.

Imagine the ocean rears itself
up to mighty tsunami height.
Let’s say you lose all worldly wealth
while volcanic ash blocks out the light.

Now let’s say the shaking stops.
Let’s think the sky returns to norm.
Let’s say the raging torrent tops.
The ocean finally quits its storm.

Let’s say that none has happened yet;
no country suffered, nor you, nor I.
Let’s tell ourselves we won’t get wet
and by saying this we die.

William Faulkner…A metaphor

Dear Mr. Faulkner,

When I think of your books
One thing comes to mind
When I’m trying to push,
Things out my behind

 Sometimes it’s so hard 
For your words to come out
That I grunt and I strain
And I heave and I shout

You might think me crude
Or say I’ve no class
But William you are
A huge pain in the ass

You twist the intestines
And cause gas inflation
Or make me spew forth
Or cause constipation

The hard bits that get through
Your “nuggets of gold”
Are the baffling reason
That your books get sold

So now Mr. Faulkner
Without much ado,
I just want to say:
William Faulkner? Faulk you.

Raccoons...

So here's the thing with raccoons...They're cute for a reason. In reality they are tricky, vicious and cunning little creatures. But God is smart. He knew that if they weren't cute no one would let them live (just like with children) so he made them absolutely adorable. If you don't agree that raccoons are adorable I offer this argument:

And this one:

Now that you have been swayed by their cuteness I give you this warning:

They are climbing up the cage, and then they proceeded to climb upside down on the roof of their cage. All the doors are double locked because their sweet little hands are DETERMINED to unlock things. They are too smart for their own good, and so make disastrous pets. Also, raccoons are adorable until they hit "puberty." Then they are flooded with ring-tailed hormones and will growl, hiss, puff up and generally be unpleasant towards you. But it's too late, you know they were cute as babies. So their survival is assured. A truly brilliant survival technique.

Which is good, just to be clear. I love raccoons. They are smart, cute, fun to watch, and have a ringed tail which is pretty awesome (I'm also a big ring-tailed lemur fan, just in case you ever needed that fun fact). But it is interesting that the cute, "widdle," fuzzy animals tend to be the meanest (for more information on this phenomenon see my post on rabbits).

All pictures by me, please link to this page :)

It's Nice to be Nice

I like to think that I'm a nice person. I like to think that I try and make people feel good, and give compliments when they're due.

Sometimes that all goes out the window. Literally.

I was in my room with my cousin Mary and my friend Jon and I was feeling very...peppy. We were watching this kid walk his dog in the lot by my window and his dog did his business and it LOOKED like the kid was going to walk away and leave it.

"He better clean up after his dog." said Mary.
"I don't think he's going to." said Jon.
"Oh he will." said I.

Still feeling peppy, I opened my window and yelled "Hey clean up after your dog MORON!" And then amazingly he went and got a bag to clean up after his dog! I watched him dance back to the poop pile...I watched him bend over and stand back up 20 times...and as I watched I realized, "He's special ed. I just screamed at a special ed kid and called him a moron." Jon and Mary laughed hysterically. And I officially am no longer a good person.

Hamsters are not for me...

I received some money for my birthday and I decided that since I had the cage, the food, the water bottle, and the shavings, I would buy a hamster. I dragged my unwilling friend to the pet store and chose my new pet: an adorable, grey, female bear hamster. An employee came to help me, took me around to the cages and told me I could reach in and grab the hamster while he held the box. I don't have any experience with hamsters so I just reached in and grabbed her-and she slipped away like a panicked piece of soap. I tried scooping the hamster and it ran and hid by the door. So I scooped it towards the door thinking that it would HAVE to stay in my hand or risk plummeting to the floor.

This is where I severely over-estimated the intelligence of hamsters.

The hamster did in fact plummet to the floor where I finally picked it up properly (by scooping it and covering it with both hands). The employee said "uh...I think she's ok," (at this point I realized I had also over-estimated the intelligence of the store employees) but since she appeared uninjured I went ahead and signed their pet agreement form promising I wouldn't harm the hamster and made my purchase. Meanwhile my friend had about died laughing and asked me if I only bought it because I dropped it.

Friends are so nice to have.

And yes. I bought it because I dropped it.

When I finally arrived home and reached into the box the hamster was shivering in the corner. I blithely put her in the cage and then left it alone. Partly because she needed to adjust and partly because every time I stuck my hand in the cage the damn thing growled at me.

Although I can't really blame her, my cat thought HE needed to sit on top of the cage 24/7 so I don't know how restful it was.

Long story short? The hamster died. Quickly.

Obviously I had purchased a defective hamster. So I took it to the store, with my receipt of course, and asked to return it.

"Hi can I help you?"
"My hamster died."
"Did you buy it here?"
"...Yes. Yes I bought it here. And it died. I have my receipt, and I brought the hamster with me."
"(opens box) Oh, yeah it's dead. I can give you another hamster or store credit."
"Umm...(quietly) I'd like another hamster."

The manager got me the other hamster. And I (ironically) signed another pet agreement. And I took my hamster straight home, put it in his super clean cage and locked the cage in the bathroom so no cats could get in there. And about two days later? The hamster died.

There was no way I was going to return another dead hamster. So I shamefully buried it in the backyard and vowed that never again would I own a hamster.