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Copyright: Fred Robel, and Fritz365 2010-2016. 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.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

October Crime Scene Investigation

It was a gruesome scene that lay out before me
In all my time on the squad I'd never seen anything like it
My partner had to leave the room
He was going to be sick

I just stood there
Smoking my cigarette until I calmed down

I smoked for something to do
It kept my hands busy
It kept my mouth occupied
Which had helped my career so far
Not saying much had gained me a reputation for being smart

But I sure didn't feel smart right now
Right now
Half the reason I was smoking
Was just to help drown out the smell

It smelled like a farmer's trash heap
And looked half as good

I took out my silver pen
I poked at the mess on the floor
Trying to figure out what I was looking at

Entrails

I let them slide off the end
Wiping it on my pants
Leaving a stain I'd remember for weeks
As it wouldn't come out with the first wash
Or the second
Only fading away with time and wear

And this thing over here
I still couldn't believe what I was seeing
I poked at it with my weathered wingtip shoe
In need of a polish for the past five years

The macabre disembodied grin moved lightly with my gentle probing
Shining orangely in the lamplight

"Lieutenant
We found the body!"
The beat cop called me over with his exclamation
His face green with disgust

I came out of the house
Down the porch steps
And around the bushes

The bile rising in my own throat
Like the mercury in an Orange Crush dimestore thermometer on a hot day

There lay Perry Pumpkin
Mutilated almost beyond recognition
Another serial victim

Carved into a Jack o'lantern

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Stand Back From the YOLO

Oh no
You aren't annoying at all
Look for the sarcmarc asshole
It's there writ large upon the wall

You with your war cry of YOLO!!
Me with my small cry of WTF
Chainsaw screaming in your hand
I'm getting the fuck out of here
Because you obviously don't know what you are doing

Give me a call when you are done
Or not, it doesn't matter
While you can; have your fun
You mad fucking hatter

The Drain Hair Cometh

The hot rivulets of water streamed down my chubby body
I folded my arms flat across my chest
Leaving a 'basket' area in the middle
Water collects there
About two cupfuls worth
It starts to overflow

That's when I release my arms suddenly
Making a loud splash! on the bottom of the tub
I do this several times for my own amusement

Just getting wet
And making a splash
It's my grown up way of playing in the tub

But then I notice the water collecting in the tub
It's up over my feet now
I kick my foot a little moving it around idly

I check the drain
And it's open
The water shouldn't be collecting

Looking at the drain
I can see my wife's hair collected over the chrome strainer
Slowing the release of the water
Making a mini pond in my shower

I pluck it off with my fingers
A small hairball creature clinging wetly to my fingers
But that's not all it seems

There is a slender tendril leading down through the drain
So I pull it up
Collecting the hair in my left hand
Pulling with my right

And it keeps coming

My wife's brown hair coming up in a continuous clump
Seemingly more hair than she could possibly have on her head

Then it changes color mid clumpy strand
To blonde

Now this hair color isn't from anyone in the family
And I'm grossed out now
This is someone else's hair
But it just keeps coming
Clump after clump after clump
All held together by tendrils of long hair

Now strawberry red comes up
Making a mishmash of colors in my overflowing paw
Brown blonde and red mixing into a kid's crayon conglomeration of color

I keep pulling
And just give up trying to hold it in my hand
Simply piling it up on the floor of the tub all around me

Black hair
With some white streaks comes up
Reminding me of my father's hair
All clumpy and grumpy piled inside the bath

Then a Brillo pad comes up

No
That's pubic hair
Eeeeewwww!

But I tough it out and keep pulling
Though all the hair is now filling the entire tub
Making it look as though I'm crouched in a sea of wet hair

I can't stop pulling now even if I wanted to
I'm a man possessed
The hair pile keeps growing
Surrounding me
Filling the entire bathroom
Until I cannot see the lights anymore
From under the false eclipse of hair

I can't move now
But it's taken on a life of it's own
Writhing around me
Pulling itself out of the drain
Never stopping
Making me feel like I'm smothering

I try to cry out for help
But I can't catch a breath
The hair keeps coming
And it knows that it has won

Monday, October 29, 2012

Frankenstein's Storm

Dr. Frankenstein gathered all his pieces together
Laying them out on the stainless steel table
Arranging them in a logical order
Well
At least logical to him

A bit of Arctic air
From way up high over there
Some Gulfstream gusts
To satisfy his high and fast lusts
A helping of Hurricane Sandy
Mostly because he just had some handy
All swirled together at just the right time of year

The good doctor took his silver thread
Which was oh so hygienic and shiny
Stitched it all together tight
Stepped back and switched off the light

It swirled on the table
Little lightning flashing
Rising up ever so slightly
Looking angry and bored with a hint of dashing

"It's Alive!!!"
The Doctor cried
Head tipped back
Shouting it to the sky

Just then his creation headed for the hills
Skittering past it's creator
And out the front window
Growing as it went into something much greater

Going to the front door
And watching it go with a sigh
Knowing he lost more monsters that way
As Frankenstorm rose until it was lost in the cold fall sky

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Opposite of This

Out my huge open door today
It does not look like this
Not in any which way
It's stormy and cold
Winter just around the corner
Soon tucking us tightly into it's icy fold


The Devil's Own Waterfowl

This was too far
Too late in the year
If only I had a car
But that's not logic that's the fear
There are no roads
And not in the future sense
This is a throwback place
No roads no power no people
No one to see the terror on my face

Rocks try to trip me
Hidden by the dark
Starlight not helpful at all
Throwing little more light than a spark
The rustling and commotion behind me
Spurring me ever onward
Over around and across
This tiny little island with a view

My little boat had broken down
Just off the west shore
Hopping off and walking it in
Looking for help nothing more
Finding nothing but an abandoned keeper's house
Next to a tower foundation
I'd hunkered down for the night in the empty light station
Creeped out but mostly safe and sound

Sitting by a small fire
On the creaky boards of the warped porch
The sun sank down
Bringing on the night
Then out of the dark deathly still they'd come
Fluttering and quacking
Swinging and smacking
Laying about me both high and low

So I ran
And I hadn't stopped yet
Hoping that I could keep going
Hoping that I could outlast them
Though they showed no signs of slowing
I'd never seen anything like it
An infestation for the ages across the whole island
I was beginning to fear that I had no chance
To escape their sharp beaks and beady black eyes
Always only inches behind me reaching out pulling at my pants
I glanced behind to gauge the odds
And was met by the murderous stares of thousands of eyes

This island was infested with Demon Cormorants

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Halloween Pet

The first time I asked you out
You were dressed as a witch
With long braided hair
A black shiny cloak
With the tall iconic black pointy hat

I was dressed as a cowboy
And I'd had my red bandana pulled up over my mouth and nose
Pretending I was a robber
Until I saw you
With your little black glasses
Your little freckled nose

My mom even has a picture of us
My face looking dejected
Yours looking cross
Because you'd just rejected me

At the time my mom had said
"Oh well, her loss"

Now here we are
Twenty years later
On another Halloween
With you dressed as a witch
And me dressed as a cowboy again

The biggest difference today
Is that you are mine
You wear my collar around your neck
With different versions to suit the occasion

One is for when you're at work
It's small and delicate
With herringbone links
A small charm hanging halfway
Engraved letters upon it spelling out my name
A token reminder to you and everyone else
Of who you belong to

Me

The one you wear right now
Is the model I prefer
It's thick and brassy
Trimmed in black leather
With three rings set upon it
This one is engraved as well
In inch tall letters that no one can miss
My name
Your master

My mother doesn't have a picture of us like this

I pull you to me
And you come willingly
You have no choice
Your submission is complete

Kissing you deeply
I murmur in your ear how much I love you
In response you offer me your leash
Which I clip to your collar

It's time to go my pet
That's a good girl

Friday, October 26, 2012

When Mommy Met Daddy

Little Cibi pranced about
Playing in the corner

"Momma!
Tell me about when you met daddy?"

Momma paused in her threadwork
And looked thoughtful
Eyes drifting upwards with memories

"Your father was a beautiful male
The colors that he wore really caught my eyes

I'd been playing shy off to the side
And he had approached me with his very own moves
So very original

Your daddy took me out dancing
Showing off footwork that seduced me
Then to supper at a wonderful place
It was delicious

I think afterwards
We went bowling"

Cibi looked up at me with bright eyes sparkling

"Really?
Is that really how it was Momma?"

Momma looked back
Her own myriad of eyes glinting in the moonlight

"No
Mommy was teasing
When Mommy met Daddy
We mated
Then I ate him
That's his empty shell hanging over there"

Momma gestured off to the left
Cibi scampered over to look

"Oooooh!!
Momma!
He really IS pretty!"

Momma nodded at the memory
Getting back to her threadwork

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Early Morning Moment

A snapshot in time is all it was
Circled in a 360 freeze frame shot
Brown fur
Black enamel and leather
Chrome

Ninety mile an hour freeze frame
Of blurred motion in the passing lane
An oncoming semi ahead
The last car in a five car long pass on the right

Suspended in mid air
Hangs Odocoileus Virginianus

A male white tailed deer

Illuminated by the bright headlight
Of a Harley Davidson Sportster
Black enameled tank and fenders
With an orange stripe down the middle
Stove pipe silver painted straight pipes
Barking sound waves and short flames in the darkness

The rider's eyes are wide
As wide open as his throttle
Fear just starting to cross his features in this moment
Fingers starting to hover over the brake lever
In a mad and futile half attempt to avert disaster

Close enough to see the individual hairs on the deer's pelt
The rider's heart has skipped a beat
Independently of this frozen moment

The driver to the right also sees this imminent disaster
And thinks about hitting the brakes

The white tailed deer
Who only seconds before
Had been running full tilt across a golf course
No headlights in his field of view
Hanging in the middle of his desperate leap
To try to clear all these suddenly appeared obstacles

It's too late for all of them

The clock restarts
Our frozen shot moves on
The rider ducks down to avoid any part of the animal
Momentarily flutters the throttle in delayed reaction
But remembers his precarious situation
Completes his pass
And prays a thin lipped prayer

The driver only sees a brown blur in front of him
And a sound
As if a pebble had stuck the bodywork of his car

The deer just grazes the fender of the vehicle with his right rear hoof
Leaving a shallow dent behind
The big buck keeps on running towards Lake Huron
Grimly determined to have his early morning drink

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Pigthief

Piggy stole all of my candy
Eating it up with a piggy grin

"Remember, you are what you eat"

Although when I said that
She thought I meant candy
And I did, in a way
But I really was referring to BACON

In The Right

"Do you want to be right
Or do you want to be happy?"

I'd like to say yes
But my actions betray me
As I feel backed into the corner
With no exit I can see
So I lash out with logic
And mocking incredulity
Which leaves me in this spot
At the kitchen table
Staring at legal documents of divorce
Words on the page nonsensical like a fable

"Do you want to be right
Or do you want to be employed?"

I'd blown the whistle
On something I'd seen
Not a big deal really
But rules are rules I didn't do it to be mean
Things are black and white
No grey anywhere on this horizon
Right and wrong delineated
Both in regulation and employee handbook
Leaving my boss looking quite constipated

"Would you rather be right
Or would you rather be dead?"

At the time I hadn't cared
My path of action seemed obvious
When someone passes on the double yellow
You should drive straight at them seeming oblivious
This was MY land goddammit
I was in the right
There was no way to see it in any other light
My brain just isn't wired that way
Which left me here crushed in this car
So there isn't much else to say

Except that I guess I'd rather be right
Than most any other thing

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Social Content Mindfuck

Hello
My name is Fredericka FollowMe
I've got the goods
At least that you can see
Don't pry below the shiny surface fun
You might not like the things you'd find
The fact that I'm a dude being only one

When I share
My ode to my morning coffee
I expect you to stand and cheer
Especially when accompanied
By a nude shouldered me shedding a tear

I assure you my Id is quite sexless
My thoughts logical and pure
However my Ego is sensual
It wants in your virtual pants for sure

You'll never know
Just who is the real me
I only allow the choicest thoughts
To appear here where you can see

Save the rough drafts for your editor
In work projects for your mom
I only post shiny baubles for show
Removing serial numbers
So from whence they come you'll never know

I'm a fraud for reals
I only show what appeals
To ovations and squeals
My name is Fredericka FollowMe
Before my altar of content you shall kneel

Monday, October 22, 2012

My Misogynist Loves Me

Your body is healthy enough
Standing tall with a slight beer gut
Overall looking fairly buff
But I can see through you

Your spirit is frail
When you try to push me around
It shows through
Like a bleeding wound under a white shirt
Even as you call me a slut in front of your crew

And what you have must be contagious
For my spirit has started to suffer as well
What with you hacking and sneezing
Your vitriol all over me every day

I'm never good enough
I'm never smart enough
I'm not sexy enough
And I'm starting to think that i's true

That I'm lucky to have you
Who will put up with how flawed that I am
It's not just this ring on my finger that binds me to you
There's an invisible collar around my neck
An iron chain attached that leads to your hand

You bastard
I can tell you love me so
For though you sometimes literally spit in my face
Later on you kiss me
You'll tell me how you love me
You'll coax me into anal sex
And I'll let you
Even though it burns like fire
Bringing tears to my eyes
I'll fake an orgasm as you do it
I know that you love me

You stay with me
When nobody else would
My mirror shows me a perfectly normal face
But my brain now tells me it's terrible
Thanks to your kind of love
Which rapes my soul
Violating me
So much worse than your body ever could

I am yours
You've made certain of that
Fuck you
I love you
I hate you

Forever more

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Lobster Headed Son of a Gun

The little redheaded prick followed me everywhere
Down all the impossibly long and numerous stairs
Into the crooked basement
Where the walls were a few degrees off
And the doorways were never square
My OCD alarms pinging off the pegs

"Are these walls supposed to look like this?
Does that door look crooked to you?
What was that noise?
Sounded like a dog
If he were half a cat....."

He never shut up
His little ruby rubbery pie hole kept spewing annoyance
I wanted to smother him
I didn't even know who he was
Didn't he have some parents?
He should really go home

But the longer I wandered in this impossible hotel
The less I wondered about where he was supposed to be
In this limbo
In this purgatory
We were apparently paired up
He had nowhere else to go

So I suffered his intrusions
His questions
His presence
Everywhere I went
Always a little too close
Just inside my bubble
Never heeding my request to back off
At least not for more than thirty seconds

After an eternity
Of pondering and wandering
In and out of the semi-deserted complex
We spied a new way
That felt like an old way
A way down and out
Just outside our little world

A huge gaping maw of a pit
Old beams and fixtures lining the walls down
Uneven and dangerous looking
With train tracks at the bottom
Two of them

Sitting on the edge for a spell
Trains going by in both directions at regular intervals
We decided to go down
Because this must be how to go

How to go where
I don't know

And it seemed as if we'd come up from there to begin with
In some other life
Some other day
In our distant sunset of a past

Over the edge I sent that little redheaded bastard first
My companion
My irritation
I held his smaller arms with my hands
As his feet searched for the first beam
On the crumbling wall

"There are lots of things to grab onto
Don't worry
I think it gets easier as you go down"

Just then
His arms came out of my grip
And my leg jerked as I scuttled back from the edge in horror
His scream coming back out of the dark hole at me
Cut short by a soft crumpling thud
Following in seconds by the sound of another train
Merrily going on it's way
Full steam ahead
Eyes forward unseeing
Lighting the darkness

Even as I try to light my own darkness now
As I continue to wander the old now empty hotel complex
Nothing all around but dream desolation
Filled with sandworms I suspect
And I cannot walk without rhythm
So I'm trapped on this concrete island

No little redhead to annoy me anymore
No incessant questions
Except the ones in my own head
That I keep asking over and over

"Why did I send him down there?
Did I let go of him too soon?
Did I feel myself kick his head with my jerking leg?"

I don't think I'll every know for sure
As I sit here and wander there as a party of one
With a nagging suspicion in the back of my head
That the little redheaded boy might have been my son

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Vaguely Aggressive Beverage

I soak through you
Fine Egyptian cotton
Now almost transparent
From hemmed edge to tattered bottom

Hugging your chest tightly
Nipples showing darkly through
Veiled assets of the milkmaid
Seemingly defying gravity too

It's the Thursday night
Wet T-shirt trampoline contest
When all the best sorority girls show up
To let the frat boys decide just who's tits are the best

"Don't forget to stay hydrated!"
I loudly proselytize
From my imaginary stage
Even as I'm sprayed about and atomized

I float all around the room
In cups of glass and Solo red
Chilling wine and spirits alike
Which will result in many an aching head

A couple smart and or boring ones
Depending upon your perspective
Drink nothing but me tonight
Being of that designated driver elective

You may say they are having no fun
But I beg to differ with you
For what could be better than being sixty percent water?
The answer would be adding a percent or two!

I'm your friend
I'm H two Ooh!
Say that with a smile and an open round mouth bitch
I'm big bad and one if your building blocks
When you're dehydrated
I'm the one you beg for to get your fix

Just ask for me by name
Best served in a long tall sweaty glass
Open the hatch toss me back
You know you want me inside of you

Friday, October 19, 2012

Why So Siri-ous?

Siri hates me
I suspect it's true
You have suspicions too
You know you do

When I ask her to find me pizza
She often comes back with pie
Or guides me to a plaza
With no food only open sky

I broke my leg once
And asked for a hospital
And I ended up at the vets
Waiting in line behind a greyhound

Siri blocks my love life
When things were getting hot and heavy
I requested som Al Green
And got Motorhead instead

Of course when I swear at Siri
She understands me just fine it seems
She chides me to not be profane
She knows exactly what I mean

I've noticed when I come on to her
Siri plays it coy
Flirting back with seeming ease
Siri is as much a girlfriend as she is actually helpful
A shiny technological tease

"Siri
Play 'Detroit Rock City'"

Ding ding
Play "Hey There Delilah"
Is that correct?

"No
Play 'Detroit Rock City'
By Kiss"

Ding ding
Play "Dance Without Sleeping"
By Melissa Etheridge
Is that correct?

"No!
Play 'De-troit Rock Ci-ty'
By KISS!"

Ding ding
Play "Isn't She Lovely"
By Stevie Wonder
Is that correct?

"Goddamn it Siri
Fuck you"

Ding ding
Oh my.......
There is no need for profanity

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Maybe Kittler Was Right

A desktop computer with dual screens
Ten inch tablet for checking memes
Cel phone at the ready
Receiving texts and bidding on ebay
Wifi all around me
Invisible informational connectivity
Blending with the 3G

I feel alive
Cuddled in this womb of technology
Tools for me to use
For whatever purpose I see
Even when I think I'm on vacation
I can't help my awesome productivity

End of the day
Thank god it's friday
Time to unplug
Time to unhook
From this technological umbilical

Twin monitors no longer filling my view
With everything I could ask for
I substitute my tablet and phone
Two smaller windows to the virtual world
All the way up north on the train
Touching and swiping
Pinching and pecking
Plussing and Liking

Now up in the sticks
No wifi
No 3G
Only a slow Edge Network
To slake my data thirst
My technology firing on half it's cylinders
Feeling restless
Waiting for the endless load

Arriving at the cabin
Pristine wilderness in front of me
A non-motorized area
No cars
No motorboats

I hop in my canoe
Looking for something to do
Floating in the middle of the crystal clear water
Fish swimming below me
As I poke at my phone
Using offline apps
As even the Edge network is far behind me now
I'm not even sure I could make a phone call

But the Angry Birds and Temple Run
Soon lose their flavor
Not much to do
Nothing to savor
Just a pretty light show in my hand
Nothing new or fascinating
No multitasking or chatting
I just stare at the home screen
In hopes that something will happen

With all this beauty around me
All I have eyes for is this blasted phone
Far from being the master of my technology
I find I'm a slave to it in my blood sweat and bone

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Noodley Shepherd

It's a preacher creature feature
A bully pulpit creeper
Reaching out with tendrils
Suggestively fingering your brain

Hidden by the Nth dimension
Wearing it like a cape and mask
Unseen body parts are a part of life
For the priest presiding over the mass

Seen in the right view
He looks like a spaghetti monster
But not the kind that you'd want to worship
This is the kind that sucks out all hope
Subsisting on your spirit
All while claiming to be divine

This spirit vampire tells you how to think
Even as it removes independent thought
Just go along to get along my children
I am the shepherd to this flock

It's no mistake that the sheep and shepherd allegory is used
The pope that came up with it
Well he was an Nth dimensional spaghetti monster too
Tendrils waving obscenely all around his Popely hat
Not for you to see of course

Unless you're one too
Can you see them?
Oh god
Just don't even tell me if you do

Wait, I didn't say any of that
What I meant to say was:

"Baaaa"

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Blocked by Housekeeping

I rubbed my cock with one hand
Slick with my favorite scented baby oil
Steadily up and down it's mighty veined shaft
So large I could barely reach around it
A mighty oak tree sprouting from my midsection

No
That's not true

Well, I am fapping
With my left hand
So it's kind of different
My right hand is busy with the mouse
Looking for some suitable stream

Oooh, there's something
"Angry Latina Boobs"

Oh that'll do
My video starts
Boobs enter stage left

And a knock on my room door
"Housekeeping"

I stop midstroke
Never good for the routine
"No thank you!"
I say sort of loudly

Keys jiggle in the lock
"Housekeeping?"

I grab a pillow and throw it over my shame
"No thank you I said
Not today!"
Frustration and panic showing in my voice

Finally I hear the cart rolling away
I turn back to my boob video
Which just doesn't seem to get it anymore

Neither does my dick
It has gone limp and seems to want to hide

Angrily I surf to ebay

If I can't get off
I'm gonna buy something instead

Monday, October 15, 2012

Narcissistic Transference Day

I woke up one day
And everything felt familiar
Everywhere I went
It was like looking in a mirror

Not obvious at first
All I saw was me
I brushed my teeth and combed my hair
The reflection was naturally my own

Then I saw the postman
And under his grey blue cap
With it's official government logo
A familiar visage looked back at me
Not his
But mine

I said hello to myself
Discussed the weather
Took my mail
And most confusedly went on my way

Then I saw the homeless man
That was there every day
Sitting next to 'his' dumpster
Head down on his chest
Sleeping because there wasn't anything else to do
His sign still said
"Help a Homeless Vet"

I usually didn't give him any money
Because he smelled bad
And made me think of uncomfortable things
Today as usual
He perked up at the sound of footsteps
Raised his face and asked for a dollar

I got ready to say no
Or just ignore him as I usually do
Then I saw his face
And it was me
Peering past long greasy hair
Under the dirty felt hat
Smelling bad

And so I stopped
I asked him how he was
What he thought of the world today
I did something I never do
I gave him some money

All I had was twenty dollar bills
So that's what he got
One of those

His face lit up like christmas
And he got up for the first time I've ever seen
Wandering off towards the shops

Bemusedly I went on about my errands
Seeing myself everywhere I looked
I was the shopkeeper
I was the barber
I was the bank teller
I was everywhere

When I got home that night
I told my wife about my day
And with eyes that looked just like mine
She listened intently

Later that evening
I made love to myself
For she was me
And I was her

The next day
Everything was back to normal
And I was a total prick to everyone

Sunday, October 14, 2012

T-Rex Hates Push-ups

T-Rex hates push-ups
It's true
And how do I know?
Because I live right next door to him
And every single morning
I watch him have a go

Rocking on his dinosaur belly
Legs firmly planted in the back
His short muscular arms wave around
Oh so close the ground only inches do they lack

Poor old T-Rex
He soon switches it up
Doing sit-ups and squat thrusts
Things more appropriate for his build

Finishing his routine with vigor
Jumping into the pond to cool off
Getting dressed for work
Motoring off in his Yugo

Every morning T-Rex does this same routine
Hating the push-ups
But always trying

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Memory Games

A kiss on my shoulder awakens me
Two warm lips
With a hot tongue dart between them
To tickle at my flesh

"Good morning lover"
A strange but lovely voice says

I roll towards the voice
And see an attractive looking back
Topped by a brown head of hair
Tousled from the night

Just the beginnings of a shapely ass
Sitting at it's base
Twin soft cheeks sitting on the cotton sheets

Her head turns half towards me
Silhouetted in the window
Morning sun streaming around her

Very pretty
I could have done worse

"Want me to go make some coffee?"
She asks me
Reaching back to rub my naked thigh

"Yes, thanks
I'd love some sweetheart"

Without another word
She gets up
Giving me a full view of her soft voluptuous form
Before covering up with a fuzzy pink bathrobe

I watch her go out the bedroom door
All the while thinking to myself

What the heck is her name?

This isn't new
I've had a couple one night stands
And I had found myself in this predicament before

Maybe if I could find her purse
I could see her ID and get her name off it
Until then I could get away with pet names
It works
It always does

Just don't let on that you don't know her name!

I sit up and plant my feet on the floor
Grab my glasses
And find a slip of paper wrapped around them
Sliding the paper off and putting on my glasses
I read what it has to say

Her name is Heather
She is your wife

My brain spins at reading it
Knowing deep down that it is true

My eyes take in my surroundings more completely
Now that I have my glasses on

Pictures adorn the walls

A wedding
With me and her as bride and groom

Children
Pets
Locations and vacations
Cars and houses

I don't remember any of them
But there they are
Laid out on the wall next to my bed

A small plaque in the midst of all the photo frames
Clearly engraved upon it in large letters

This is your life Fred
Remember Always

If only I could

Friday, October 12, 2012

Idea Machine

The idea machine whirred inside
Gears cranking
Stop pins clacking in time
Tapping into parallel dimensions
Adjusting reality to it's own intentions

Exterior all black polished lacquer and chrome
With blindingly bright brass fittings for show
Chuffing black coal smoke for pure effect
A fossil fuel consumption machine
With firebox a hot cherry glow

In close proximity to the infernal machine
Visible light was bent
Making a bright oasis sheen
It was it's reality distortion field hard at work
Creating in the timeline a definitive fork

I leaned a little closer
Trying to enter it's proximity
But alarm bells went off
It blew steam at me from a whistle
I wasn't allowed inside it seems
It was it's own little world
A bubble of creation
Where everything was real
A vivid fantasy destination

Through a viewport in the side
I observed flickers of things passing through
A constant subliminal stream
So fast did the images flash

A frog with a parasol
A lizard on the lake
Water skiing skyscrapers
President Oprah eating cake
A face that held for an uncomfortable second
Staring at me and through me
Diamonds for eyes
Facets that reflected orange colored skies

My head throbbed with pain
So I stepped back shaking it
Behind the painted line
Which clearly said
"Stand behind line
Do not look inside machine"

About that time
The twin green mechanical typewriters started clacking
Driven by steam powered copper fingers
Pivoting on arms from deep within the machine
Words flowed like water upon the page
Something wonderful took shape
The most important idea of this age

But just then something broke
Deep inside the black lacquer hide
The machine shuddered and shook
Anchor bolts breaking apart at it's left front foot
Fire flickered at the crystal window
Paint started peeling
Chrome trim began to turn blue

Before I ran from the disaster
I grabbed the paper from the now still writers
Those same pieces of paper
That now perplex us all so much

The greatest idea of our age
Cut short by mechanical failing and pyrotechnic rage
Is incomplete
Is insufficient

Amidst all the random letters and numbers
One coherent phrase was found

"Brought to you by all possible futures and dimensions
The meaning of your existence is......."

The insidious machine would never tell it's secret
Wrecked beyond repair
Reactors and fireboxes cold
Fingers and gears immobile
Never again to make a sound

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Idea Guy

Make me care
Take my senses unaware
Upon a journey of emotion
Buoyed by the wordy commotion
Pouring from your poison pen

Pirates wearing fancy pants!
Living large by rules of chance
In pirate ships made up of scree
Gathered on beaches in Galilee

Not sure if that tracks quite right though
Maybe set them in another locale?
Might I suggest making them from the Caribbean?
Just make that change, be a pal
It'll be a huge success
First we'll build a theme park ride
Followed by a four movie blitz

And when that cow has been milked of all it's cash
You'll move on to something else
Might I make a suggestion perchance?
I think it's past time that a kung fu panda was a smash

When you're ready for something
I'll be right here
At Ideas'r'Us
Probably nursing my last beer

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Le Citron Formidable

Super Lemon comes from a planet far away
Can stop a speeding train
Leap a tall building in a single bound
A legend in his own rind

By day
Super Lemon uses a secret identity
Wearing glasses waiting tables
And known simply as Bonnie Brae

But should duty inevitably call
Super Lemon juices up
Tosses aside the faux glasses
From it's eyeless face
Rises from this earth
And blasts upon citrus rocket into outer space

From there Super Lemon commands and conquers
All the evil that can be discerned
Using zesty weapons
Of acidic pulp propulsion
To blind and bind
Until such a time
As to be collected by a then earthbound limon

So when evil darkens some lonely door
Or fear runs rampant throughout the land
Call upon Super Lemon!
Though having none it will lend a hand


Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Naughty Naked Roomba

The Roomba chugged around the room
Picking up everything it could
Dog hair, dust bunnies
Specks of grass and bits of wood

I pondered its activity
Through beer goggle eyes
And though the little Roomba grew sexier
There was still something off besides its small size

That was a question for a more sober me
As to how so much junk could fit in its trunk
How it could whirl around all day
Doing nothing but sucking up funk

No
Today right now this second
The thing that concerned me
Was the fact that it was just so naked
And it didn't even care that I could see

Weren't these supposed to be our robot overlords?
Come to rule us with iron hands?
In my humble opinion
Before they do they should put on pants

It's not that the sight of spigots or sockets offend me
It just a respect thing is all
If I'm going to bend my knee to a superior race
Is it too much to ask that they wear pants while engineering our downfall?

It all made sense at the time
Or it may have been the beer and box of wine
But the next thing I knew I was rummaging in the dog box
Finding cute little canine Halloween costumes
And thinking I could somehow make them work
Without making that Roomba look like too much of a dork

How about this pumpkin....
No, too predictable for me
Maybe this little red crab costume
Oh yes! I almost forgot
When you squeeze the little claw it sings Under the Sea!

Stumbling after the racing Roomba
I caught up to it near the stairs
I kept a close eye on the cornered beastie
Just in case he tried to attack me unaware

In the end the Roomba put up little fight
As I snip snipped here and there
Adding little strips of duct tape to make it fit right
Satisfied I retired back to the drink next to my chair

I can only guess that the Roomba didn't like it very much though
Because when I woke up this morning
Passed out in the middle if my floor like I was dead
It was to the constant banging
Of a little red crab Roomba bouncing off my forehead

Monday, October 8, 2012

Footsteps in the Sand

I follow your footsteps
Though they wander to and fro
On the beach and in the water
So sandy and so shallow

Imprints faded by wind and tide
I seemed to lose my way
Until I look back and realize
It was my own tracks I'd been following all day


Imaginary Escape

Peggy flipped over the hourglass
Which oddly enough
Only counted out about six minutes
So why call it an hourglass?

"I said, GO, Fritz!"
She hollered at me

Ok, ok
I can't go over there
I mentally went over my options
That whole area is lava
Too deep for the couch cushion rocks
They would sink

"Don't do it, mister, you know that's deep lava"
She reminded me with a smirk

I looked at her peevishly
"I wasn't, I was just thinking
Now leave me be for a sec"

She tapped the top of her wrist impatiently
"Tick tock, tick tock"

I grabbed the standing lamp next to the couch
Yanking the cord out of the wall as I did so
Imagining it to be a weirdly shaped stick
I reached the top of it carefully out
To try and grab the coffee table

Which, obviously, must be a tall petrified wood structure
To be surviving the deep lava like that

It came closer
So I went for it
Stepping as lightly as I could from the couch to the table
Where I crashed right through the top of it
My feet landing on the carpet below with a thud
Losing my balance and crashing over onto the floor
The coffee table surrounding my legs

Peggy danced with glee
"Mwah ha ha!
The lava has defeated you!"

She came over and helped me up
Putting everything back
Sort of
And kissing me on the cheek

"My turn"
She said with a grin

And so I took my position next to the six minute glass
Flipping it over once I saw she was ready

Now
Peggy had six minutes to triumph over the lava
The spiders
The bears
The snakes
And the snarks

To successfully escape the room

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Foam Chess

It's a purple foam chess piece of greatness
It's true!
It's great!
No need to go around hatin' us

When all the purple foam chess pieces are lined up
It's nothing if not a serious sight
All in a purple foam line
From far left to far right

It sure intimidates me
But then I'm on the pink side
All pink and Nerfy foamy
That's us
Lined up to play a high stakes game
It's Foam Chess time here on Saturday night!!

One pawn makes a move
And it's a poor one to be sure
He sits out there all alone purple and exposed
The pink sides response is a fast moving blur

Pouncing upon the purple pawn
In a pink foamy fury
Leaving it shredded and pounded upon
This pink team seems a bit scary

That's the truth of it
As I'm the one in charge
I'm calling the foam shots
Making strategies and living large

When high stakes foam chess is the game
I'm your man
Tom "Foamy" McGintle is my name
And if I can't do it nobody can

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Tentacle Porn Panel

It's Japanese tentacle porn horror
Wrapped all around me without end
Penetrating my mouth and anus
With shapes length and girth a porn star's dream
Wrapped around my manhood
Mercilessly milking me to a hentai scream

I can't see past them
Not that it would do me any good
The darkness is all encompassing
An artist's overturned inkwell
Black ink poured everywhere
On this pulp media hard core still life cell

I try to feel my way around
To find an end to find an out
But I cannot find a body to this being
It's all tentacle as far as I can I can feel
I know better now than to try to stop the sex
I tried a little while ago
To no avail
I was only grasped that much more tight
Penetrated that much more deeply
Screamed just a little louder in fright

I can't cum any more
That well has run dry
My cocksheathe is getting blisters
And I'd kill for a bag of ice
Though oddly enough
The anal is starting to feel kind of nice

Don't ask me how I can breathe
With this long thing down my throat
It's magic
It's hentai
It's manga ran awry
It's tentacles as far as can be seen and felt
It must be sexy to someone but I don't know why

Bound here by living warm tentacles
Coated in slippery mucus
Ends shaped like deranged sex toys
In my mouth and encompassing my cock
Another in my tucus
I just hope the storyboard goes somewhere from here
Hopefully to somewhere more normal
Like a gangbang or an orgy slightly out of focus

Maybe this is my eternal payment for a particular sin
Gods, that must be it!

I swear I'll never masturbate to an octopus again!

Friday, October 5, 2012

Sichan MMD6

The first few times Grandfather had told the story
I had thought it was a lot of money
Forty-one thousand Dram
But one time I had asked
And had been told it was about a hundred dollars US at the time

All things considered
I've been lucky in life
At least in these first fifteen years

My parents named me Sichan
I was born a pretty human normal looking baby
Not much to indicate what I'd grow into
Besides the raised pads on the palms of my hands
And the bottoms of my feet

But then
That wasn't uncommon
To have a human-normal looking baby
I've seen plenty of happy pink babies
And just like me
They stayed pretty much the same for awhile

For me
I started changing at around two years old
Fur started growing all over my body
My ears
Which had already had a slight 'elfish' point to them
Grew a little longer
And acquired the same fur as everywhere else
With little tufts of black sticking out

Actually pretty attractive if you ask me

The nails on my hands and feet
Started coming in thicker
And more oval in profile

I suppose I could use them to fight with
If I were that sort of a person
By filing them to a point
But as of yet I'm not inclined to do so
Grandfather wouldn't approve at any rate

But he was of the last generation to have been human after all
Anyone born in the last thirty years didn't know what it was like

Like I said
I was lucky
Always had been
My mutation was no exception
Being a Human-Feline was a fairly benign mix

I had met and heard of much worse

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Telephone

Reuse recycle retread and use it up
It's a game of cultural telephone
With ideas and concepts at it's core
Nobody should be able to copyright culture
And when you come up with something
Know that you're just humanity's whore

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Life Level Intermediate

This just feels wrong
I think I'm living a bad cover song
The lyrics are half a beat too late
The fourth verse seems to defy fate

Maybe it's a lame tribute band
The lead singers hair is long
The lead guitarist is windmilling his right hand
But in the end I find I'm just wrong

This isn't a lame version cover song
It's an original piece of shit
I'm half drunk in a local bar
And some teenager emo band is killing it

By killing it
I don't mean they're doing well
It literally sounds like they are murdering music onstage
I'd call the cops but I signed a release saying I'd never tell

The bouncer at the door didn't even warn me
Even as I paid an overpriced cover charge
To get into this sorry life
That is delivering so small after promising so large

I'm slipping away to the loo
I think I saw a backdoor out of here
It's a strange scary world out there
But I'm full of alcohol courage and have no fear

Hand pushing on the rusty emergency exit door
Now confronted with a piss smelling alleyway
A dumpster
A passed out drunk
An aggressive pimp
And a half hidden mugger
Laid out in sequential challenges
Like level bosses in a video game

All between me and the world beyond
I input the unlimited lives cheat code
Gotten for milk money at school
Lights dim down and it's game on

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Outdated and Unappreciated

I keep my song of self
Right up there
On the top shelf
It's in an outdated format
From a dead culture
And it's infernal machine

Press it to your forehead
For all the good it will do you
Perhaps you can absorb
That which it won't sing to you

Or maybe you can reverse engineer
That which has turned to dust
Only to find it's your ears you can't trust
They hear only what they want
Not the highs nor the lows
Ignoring the sweet whale song
As it thrashes in death throes

Everything is subjective
So I'll just let you assume
That if you could hear it
You'd throw up your hands and stalk from the room

There's no accounting for taste
Certainly not yours
So lets leave that song of self
Up high upon it's shelf
Under lock and key
And securely closed doors

Monday, October 1, 2012

Too Tired For Intolerance

I grow tired of debate
I wish this argument had never started
It hurts my head after ten minutes
I wish our opinions had never parted

Religion sucks
Lack of religion sucks
It's terrible to have a god
And it's horrible not to

I tolerate your intolerance
In one simple way
Because I'm intolerant
To most things you say

Whatever comes out of your mouth
Be it truth or fiction
I'll argue regardless
It's a basic devil's advocate addiction

As I get older
I don't grow wiser
It's true!
I simply grow more tired
Too tired
To argue with you

So that's my secret to tolerance
It's simple fatigue at it's best
Laziness perhaps
On my back
Eyes closed
Hands clasped upon chest

Be a sport and put a coin in my mouth for the ferryman

Shower Curtain Amphibs

Green vinyl frogs
On their wavy two dimensional wall
Peering at me through portholes
Doubtless perched upon two dimensional logs

Eyes bugged out
Like any good frog's should
Be it two dimensional or three
Smiling and looking about

Cheerful though they be
I still feel a bit creeped out
And stealthily work my way behind them
To have a little looksee

Then I feel a bit sick
My head fuzzy and woozy
I'm upon a familiar precipice
Of seeing the impossible
But knowing that it is so

The vinyl printed frogs
They have no backs
Nothing on their rears
It seems that they exist only from the front
Making them the sum of all my one dimensional fears