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© Fred Robel, and Fritz365, 2010 - 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fred Robel and Fritz365 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Friday, October 31, 2014

Preppy Rabbit Caricature

Butterfly collars popped up to here
Layer upon layer of Izod veneer
Tall grey fuzzy ears still dripping with beer
How this Halloween went wrong is far from clear

It could have been the costume choice
That of a fluffy grey bunny rabbit
Complete with white cotton tail and overlarge feet
A head to toe furry suit that smelled funny
And white prosthetic real faux ivory buck teeth

That combined with the choice of overwear
For this was not just a grey furry rabbit getup
This was a very preppy grey furry rabbit getup
With fashion sense to match
All those multiple three button shirts
The horror of the embroidered alligators
The smell of Calvin Klein
Seen through smoked lens Ray Ban Wayfarers

This wet rabbit is run out of time
An Eighties refugee who failed to moonwalk out of here
Gotten in a fight and gotten the better of
Another costumed cartoon critter in a full coat
Pounded down the Preppy Rabbit Caricature
Then finished him off with the dump of a pitcher of beer

The Fright of Approach

Moonlight flickered off the shallow cups of wavelets upon the surface of Lake St Gunnigan
Giving a light twinkling effect
Like the mirrored dance ball at a low rent club
With some of the mirrored facets missing
Having fallen to the old wooden dance floor over the years
Ground to silica dust by thousands of hard heeled shoes
Out on the town for a good time
Not mindful of anything else

Grim dark eyes ahead were a marked contrast to the lake behind me
Pasted crookedly upon a crumbling red brick facade
Advertising terror it would seem
Since the peeled white paint of the door between those black window eyes
Resembled nothing as much as a pale mouth ringed with jagged misshapen teeth
Inviting me in with no sweet reassurances
An RSVP that I will not send back

A small sign next to the slightly weed infested gravel drive pointed to the left
Proclaiming that the "New! Main Building Around Back!"
Was a-thataway

With one eye watching the over the top frightening looking building
Which was directly in front and far too close now
I gently veered left
Passing through a veil of weeping willow branches
Which slowly performed a gentle scrub upon the roof and sides of the car
I was reassured to see the glow of lights ahead
Telling me that there was someone here after all

Just as I was about to clear the side of the haunted front building
My one eye that was still keeping a close watch upon it thought there was movement
A ghostly undefined shape flitting along the wall

Foolishly I stopped the car to get a better look
The gravel giving a final half hearted crunch sound as the wheels stopped

But my foolhardy action was a reward for the skunk that crossed my headlights a moment later
With zero regard for his or her well being
Sporting an inverted color pattern of mostly white fur with narrow black markings down the back

Pausing at the edge of my illumination
I got a brief glance of skunky contempt
Accompanied by a tail flick
Which seemed to be the equivalent of flicking a booger at someone
Since the smell the wafted in soon after was definitely a fairly rude gesture

With a dainty retch I dropped the car back into gear and continued around the building to a central path to that fabled new building around back

I was not comforted by not having the flickering moonlight off the lake in my rear view anymore
Nor by the abandoned junk cars haphazardly parked along the road

The cars I first encountered were mostly late models
The grass beneath them was still alive
The grass immediately surrounding them was not terribly long
But the further I went
The more the opposite became true

The cars got older
The grass under them became bare dirt
The grass around them was wild and tall

I stopped dead again at the sight of a familiar car
An early Seventies Chrysler
Dark green in color
Looking almost like it had been parked there a few weeks ago

The road was a foot or so higher than where the car was sitting
And I could just see over the window and into the car
There seemed to be a set of keys hanging from the ignition

What a find

If I could conclude my business on a good note
Perhaps I'd inquire about it
Maybe work it into the deal

I looked up and ahead
There was someone standing on the porch watching me
Still probably sixty yards away
Their details were a bit fuzzy to me it seemed
My eyes felt a bit strained

Right hand reaching for the gear lever one more time
The movement seemed to take forever
As I went right past the handle and stubbed my fingers on the center floor hump carpet
"Ow!" I mumbled into the steering wheel
Which was currently smashed up against my face
Making my nose take on incredible silly putty shapes

This just doesn't seem right
I thought to myself

Then I dreamed
A long dream of cream cheese bagels
And the wolves that always chase after me

Monday, October 27, 2014


This Halloween I'm going as a smile
No masks or fancy get-ups
Just teeth and a grin
Every costume contest I'm bound to win

I'll go as naked as the day I was born
With six pounds of silly putty strategically placed
To smooth out the naughty bits
Like a nude Ken doll about to be shot into space

And just like that I've changed my mind
As an astronaut is what I've always wanted to be
Endless cartwheels inside the station
Sleeping strapped to Velcro and re-learning to pee

There'd be all the astronaut ice cream I could eat
If I were a trick or treating spaceman
Strawberry is my absolute favorite flavor
I'd be my own biggest fan

So scrap that astronaut idea and paste some airfoils to me
One big one on each arm and leg
Balance me upon a post and spin me around
Spreadeagled I'm now the biggest ceiling fan you've ever found

Maybe part of an off beat circus act
We could walk around town as you spin me like a plate
Upon a wobbly wooden rod at ten thousand RPM
Though now that I think on it the time is getting late

Since I'm forty-three years old these days
And I got such stares last year when I dressed as a toddler cowboy
Which you'd think was okay
But maybe it was the oversize Toy Story diapers that got in the way

I'm resolute
To try something new I'll stay home this fall
I'll hand out candy like a normal person
I'll.......oh holy crap that giant sphere would make a great giant hamster ball!

Now I just need to find a furry outfit

Fat Bear Blues

The great fat bear played guitar all night long
Picking notes with his long nails
Dragging down the wound strings with force
And trying to sing with a bellow and wail

I was trying to sleep of course
Stuck behind walls of fall leaves within my house
Looking like a child's leaf fort after eating Alice's cake
With a crunchy rustle I opened the window ready to grouse

The noise was worse now coming in the open air
Inhaling sharply I called out crossly
"Just what in the Sam Hill are you trying to do Bear??"
In response he just seemed to try harder

I could feel the wood of the neck flex in the notes
As all 800 pounds of bear tried to play
But it still just wasn't great
It was unrhythmic and harsh all the live long day

There was just one thing to do
So open went the access to the attic
Into the spider-webbed darkness I plunged
Returning with a battered old Ludwig Junior drum kit

Gathering a few sets of sticks and tying the kit to my back with bungee
I steeled myself for a leafy assault be the front door
Sufficiently pumped up I threw the door from its hinges
Diving into the dead deciduous solar receptors with gusto and gore

Making my way to the clearing battling autumn all the way
I found the great fat bear still on his log trying to play
And he never stopped to wonder why I was there
But he stared as the drums dropped from my back
Accompanying my movements with sick notes from his axe

Set up and ready I started to pound
Until a sort of rhythm was found
Revealing a stink that was nothing but rude
That fat bear farted then fell into the groove

All night long we sawed and we hacked
Notes flying about like wood from a drunken lumberjack

But it still wasn't quite right
And we both knew it
Though we kept right on playing our fingers and paws to the bone
When just as the dawning sun started to break
Just what we needed appeared in the clearing

A cool blues gazelle carrying a silver saxophone

Monday, October 20, 2014

[Silence On The Line]

The sound was deafening
Cutting through me like one long pin
Piercing skin and maneuvering past bone
Straight through my left ventricle
Penetrating spine and nerve bundles
Electrically shorting me out
Till I hang from my puppet strings limply
The will to listen to it anymore long gone
All I want is words
But all I get is

[Silence On The Line]

Slamming down the old black receiver
Ma Bell's best outsourced handiwork in Bakelite
I contemplate ripping the dialing wheel from its face
So as to wipe that sneer away
That smug 'Oh look at me, I'm a fucking telephone' attitude
But I shouldn't blame the phone
The phone didn't call me and not speak
Leaving naught but random clicks and taps
I'd kill for some heavy breathing
To break the monotony of the

[Silence On The Line]

Sinister in an old glossy coat
The model 500 called out with tinny bell
Rang incessantly by tiny electric hammers
No doubt run by even smaller electrical gremlins
And so I stared
Watching the almost imperceptible quivering
That was the soundless accompaniment to the sound
Wishing that the little rubber feet on the bottom were not there
So as to see the infernal machine vibrate across the table and onto the floor
Where no doubt it would land unscathed
Courtesy of an overbuilt undercarriage and shell
But that wouldn't happen
Nor would the ringing stop pinging throughout the room
I grasped the receiver once again
Putting it to my ear
Ready for the painful

[Silence On The Line]

Before I even heard the nothing that came through loud and clear
My physical form imploded into dark matter
Sending the now untended receiver clattering to the floor
Allowing me a moment to take advantage of my new form
Condensing into dark matter impulses
I dove into the microphone input end
Through those sexy circular holes
That have seen hundreds of lips brush them by
Imprinting their feel upon everyone's brains
Even if we have consciously forgotten
I chased down the spiraled copper wires
Into the Western Electric stamped frame area
Then back out the backside
Into the wall plug
Using dark matter instilled senses
Which nobody can prove do not exist
To run a hunt and a chase upon the

[Silence On The Line]

Down the wires I flew
From pole to pole
Riding the roller coaster arcs
Point tension to gravity sag
Disturbing the directory assistance
Dropping long distance calls
Coming at last to the central exchange
Where my search ended at last
With the sighting of a bio-electric switchboard operator
Moving ghostly hands and fingers
Connecting calls that were never made
Open lines of silence
Clicking and ticking
To a symphony of cries
"Hello?  Hello!  Is anyone there?"
Sung to me like a choir
Drawing my microscopic ire
An anger that must be quenched
With a dark mattered limb that formed as I thought it
Moving at near light speed
To tear into the living electrical gremlin
Shredding its being
Begetting a roar of triumph from deep in my compressed soul
Sounding more like a near imperceptible squeak
As I murdered once and for all

The [Silence On The Line]

Friday, October 17, 2014

Awaiting #2

"And now
In the center ring
-The Thunder From Down Under
-The Brown Streak You Thought Was Just A Leak
-The Log That You'll Blame On The Dog..........!!!"

From within the white porcelain bowl
A pitiful sound echoes quietly

You hold the box of ExLax in your hand
Reading the label once again in disbelief
At this taunting tease of relief

"Fast Acting, Guaranteed"

You snort disgustedly 
Throwing the box into the corner of the bathroom
To mingle with the refuse of a small trapdoor spider who made his nest there months ago
Pull up your pants to resume an uncomfortable pose on the couch
With a marathon of Breaking Bad to keep you company

Waiting for Number Two

Monday, October 13, 2014

Fritzy's Sock Puppet Theatre Presents: The Ebola Tour 2014/15


"The Ebola virus is an uncommonly large and rare life form
Much too large to be spread through the aerosoling of bodily fluids
Such as when one sneezes
Or pees into a spray bottle
And spritzes one's mates for laughs

The Ebola is a sickly flu-carrying parasite
That actually attacks the host organism
Through the use of both tooth and claw
It is thus that the signature profuse bleeding is produced
As pointed out in your Ebola Tour 2014/15 vacation brochures

After a short period of time
(The typical store bought Ebola)
Displays an ignorance of its surroundings
Quickly drowning within the blood and other fluids
That it has caused by its very actions

Those of you who signed up for the Platinum Package
Please follow me through door number one
As we will get you fitted for your HazMat suits

Everyone else
Follow Eloise through door number two
Where we have piles of dust masks and cheap rubber gloves
Remember you were supposed to supply your own eye protection

We'll all meet back here in half an hour
For finger sandwiches and hand squeezed lemonade
Courtesy of Ramone over there"

~Ramone waves and quickly covers a sneeze with the other hand~

"Bless you Ramone
Get going on those sandwiches and juice!"