Daily Limerick
Archives: July 2003

Contains Mature (and immature) Content;If You’re a Minor, Go Away!


NOTE: DL has not yet taken the time to put "anchors" into the archives. Translation: You're gonna have to scroll all the way through the long-ass documents (use your "find" commands, squatlicks)!


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NOTE: A limerick is a humorous poem that is generally of a sexual nature. If you are offended by such a thing, please delete this message immediately and realize YOU WILL NOT BE ADDED TO THIS LIST UNLESS YOU SPECIFICALLY ASK TO BE--THIS IS MERELY A SAMPLE!

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So you've spotted that guy or gal who's causing a dance in your pants--but what, oh what can you possibly say to pick him or her up? "You've got more legs than a bucket of chicken" is nice, but it takes a special kind of person to appreciate it--namely, people who don't know English too well. Perhaps you should throw out a LIMERICK! For limericks truly soothe the soul and part the thighs. If that doesn't work, some quotes from "Slappin' and Yappin'" will surely break the ice.

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A gay marriage ban, to Bill Frist

is high on his gay to-do list.

"Forget the recession;

teach dem queers a lesson!"

(He secretly craves a lubed fist.)



I was reading a bit about White House counsel Alberto Gonzales this weekend.

Mr. Gonzales is widely believed to be Bush's choice for new Supreme Court justice when Rehnquist steps down.

But, get this: Gonzales is a moderate.

So feel free to punch one of those mother fuckers that tried talking you into voting for Gore the Snore because of Supreme Court appointments...

Now and then, a story comes along that reminds me of the many reasons why I read the Chicago Sun-Times as opposed to the Tribune.

A teaser header from today's edition: "Don't hide your sexy lingerie--wear it outside this summer!"

Now THAT's the sort of editorial policy I can get behind...

Here's an interesting tale of Evil vs. Evil.

Disney, which has lobbied heavily to twist regulations, including copyright law, toward its own profits at the expense of free speech, is being sued by Capp Industries, the owner of rights to "Lil' Abner," for using the phrase "Sadie Hawkins" in one of its lame "family friendly" movies.

Of course, Capp is acting slimy, but I have trouble shedding a tear over this one. If ever there were a case of Corporate Karma, this is it...

I saw a woman on the train reading "Bible Word Search."

First of all, I have my opinions on those who somehow have time for word searching activity on the train. But that by itself isn't necessarily a red flag--or at least not a bright one.

But "Bible Word Search"?

Guess it comes in handy for all those single guys out there wondering who to hit on and not hit on...

And now for Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason: Sheila A. Pounders.

If she were subject to medieval style torture, the torturer might yell, "Draw and quarter Pounders!"

Mmm. Quarter Pounders...

Does anybody else get the feeling that "Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Name" has been stretching it a bit lately?



A cop who sought to take a bite out

of crime hit a joint with red light out.

He filled out the papers

to bust their sex capers

'til one whore coaxed from him the "white out."



Now Britney's on the "Walk of 'Fame'"

despite the fact that she's, well, lame.

This ensures Ms. Spears

in two or three years

will have SOMEONE reading her name!



It's Fourth of July--perfect chance!

To light some fireworks to enhance

the day's celebration

so use the occasion

to sate the "fireworks" in your pants!



They say in the heat of July

upon sidewalks, eggs you can fry.

I'd rather be lickin'

the juice from a chick(en)

enjoyin' a fine breast and thigh.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 7/2-7/5/2003:

Although I am "mobile" now, at least anywhere in the First World but Denver, you've probably noticed that I'm bunchin' up a few days, but this is for a reason that's totally new for DL: I'm going camping.

I've camped before... maybe 20 years ago. So this will be interesting.

Have a happy Fourth, celebrate with a limerick, and prepare for the upcoming Sunday edition to be much like a cheezy Saturday edition...

Kraft foods is now altering the size of its servings, and embarking on a PR campaign, in response to the steaming-piles-of-shit-with-legs-lawyers crankin' up the "nobody's responsible for themselves!" lawsuits concerning food, starting with fast food and, although so far unsuccessful, our society has proved itself too stupid to be trusted with these things and now people are catering to the slimecakes Now THERE'S a rambling sentence for you, but I'm in a hurry.

I was thinking about Hillary Clinton and her "It Takes a Village" crap, in essence taking even the issue of raising one's kids out of the realm of personal responsibility, and I came up with a theory or proverb or whatever-the-hell-you-call it:

Society is essentially one big Third Grade Class. Some people can't control themselves, and become big slobs, and we all gotta pay for it. Like in third grade, when some ass stole the chalk and we all stayed after class because nobody would fess up...

By the way, don't forget that the obesity suits, like the tobacco suits, the drug treatment industry, etc., really aren't about our health. It's about money.

Many doctors tend to be greedy asswipes and thus medical care spins out of control; many many lawyers tend to be greedy asswipes, and thus frivolous malpractice suits drive the cost of health care even higher. How do we address the problem? Turn the tables on fat folks--screw their primal desire to, like, control their own destiny, it's THEM who's drivin' up our cost of health care!

These lawsuits? For our health?

Contact me about a used book store I can sell ya'...

I was just reading a story about how there's a big problem in Japan with out-of-control camera phones. People are taking pictures of books, so they can read them without buying them; takin' "up-skirt" pictures; all sorts of shenanigans.

This one snuck through all the political correctness desks in newsrooms...

Laila Ali, Mohammed's (SIC?) daughter, also a boxer, caused a hubbub and, pissed-off due to pre-fight conference trash talkin', took to yankin' the hair of her opponent.

Equality is near complete...

AMC, I think it is, or one of those conglomerate channels, is not going to show Charlie Chan movies anymore because... Well, we have to re-write history, you know.

But we need MORE consolidation, more mainstreamin' of entertainment, more willingness to cater to any crack-pot sounding off with any overly sensitive complaint...

Some furniture company is selling a "Bogart Collection."

But it includes no ash trays...

Ever flip around or read the listings for those "family" themed channels? I've long noted that they appear to have programming that's, er, well, lame, and this has frightened me, being of the proclivity toward having kids at some point in the fuzzy future, although I suppose I'll just have to work harder reading' the Seuss and such to bring my kids quality, kid-friendly fare.

I noted that the channel which is actually called "Family" is running "Police Academy 2."

Which does nothing to alter my original perception of "family" fare...

I overheard some New Liberals today discussing some city in Ohio, college-town, that's, apparently, "cool."

One person mentioned that the city in question has boasted "health food" restaurants since long before they were trendy. They other one said, "Really? Wow, I've gotta go there."

There was no sarcasm involved.

Burnin' the candle at both ends, this new, Pepsi generation.


LETTERS TO THE IDIOT 7/2-7/5/2003:

Concerning yesterday's edition, namely the mention of Sheila A. Pounders, which asked

> Does anybody else get the feeling that "Laughing at Strangers for No Real

> Good Name" has been stretching it a bit lately?

One of you knuckleheads writes in:


> No, it's just you. Now burger off.

Interesting observation. As astute as Sherlock Holmes. Are you a fan of Sir Arthur Conan Broil?



If there is a God, chicks won't stop

sunbathing and loos'ning the top.

There's always a chance

that you'll get a glance--

she'll slip up, and weasel will "pop!"



So here I am, once again. The time in which I should really go to bed in order to get up at the proper time to make work on schedule is rapidly nearing. (And, yes, I have a flexible schedule, but I do have stuff to do, okay.) And I'm racing to pump out the Daily Limerick while it's still the day of its dating, wondering why I didn't just send this day's ahead of time, as long as I sent a few ahead of time already because of the holiday camping trip.

I haven't unpacked. Oh, you don't know the half of it.

Tireless dedication is what this is. Or at least dedication...

And yet, in bringing you this very special, extra cheezy, holiday weekend edition, I'm just that much closer to working just like the Big Boys...

Billboard has just added Internet sales to its equations of top-selling songs and albums.

Just now.

Yup. 2003.

Glad to see that the entity advising the half dozen or so media conglomerates, owning the various 10 or so types of stations, which of the same ten songs they should play ceaselessly for any given week, is so on the ball...

FIFA, the international, Olympic-esque league of international women's soccer teams, has banned its players from removing their shirts--even with the now-iconic sports bra on underneath.

There was a time when women's soccer became a household topic of discussion. A time when somebody knew a woman soccer player's name--Mia Hamm--who just so happened to remove her shirt, baring a sports bra, when the U.S. team took it all.

Gather around, children, and I'll tell you a tale of a time when people spoke of women's soccer...







This wood has seen no rain.

A hardened, knotty core.

Memories of fires

slumber in its seams.

The bark flying in chips.

The sapwood cleaved by axe.

Shadows shift its rings

from long beams overhead.

A poem is a shape,

a single tree cut down,

honed to some small purpose,

nestled on a page.

A mind can dim or glow,

converse with the air,

read not to be heard,

an echo on the floor.

Smoky in its dust,

the book is closed again.

The tree is planked and laid.

Breaking limbs to build a home.

For someone new to stare

through windows in the wall.

Below we'll be, forgot and bone.

Above, a new shape calls.

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at b_squirrel@hotmail.com. He will bite.]



There once was a luck-dog named Kevin

who stopped in a 7-11

worked by hot septuplets--

he read 'em some couplets

and bust his nut on seventh's heaven.



Ol' Corky Sosa, despite having a year that's pretty much just as good as any other, was not voted onto the all star team.

You may recall that S&Y predicted this budding downfall that will make Pete Rose look like a role model poster child.

In the alternate universe words of Jonnie Cochran, Jr., "If you play the irrelevant race card, you must go down hard"...

A new survey finds that 86 percent of those surveyed don't think that cell phone use annoys people around the user(s).

The survey subjects? Cell phone users. The cell phone use in question? Their own.

The survey also found that most of those polled thought that the cell phone usage of other people WAS annoying.

Now, you'd think that these people could do a basic exercise in logic and figure out the obvious. But denial(s) is not just a character on "Frasier"...

I read about a guy arrested for all sorts of crimes committed on Chicago's public transit system. One of them was selling bootleg cigarettes--you know, because taxes have went so high to help line politicians' pockets... er, improve the public health?

They say that those who are ignorant of history are doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past. Hence, "Prohibition II."

Considering the nature of our society, we're lookin' at more sequels that the "Friday the 13th" series...

Journalists have an ethical obligation to report the truth and to also take steps to minimize all the spin that's spat out from various sources.

So why is any publication or station anywhere still mindlessly repeating the title of any artists tour as an alleged "farewell" tour?...

In a Chicago suburb, there now exists a summer day camp for kids called (something like--I'm too lazy to look it up and it doesn't really matter) "Rock n Roll Day Camp."

There was a time when... Oh, fuck it.

Now we have life, in all seriousness, imitating "The Simpsons"...

Advertisers have pegged a new demographic: "Metrosexuals."

These are heterosexual, urban men who are into fashion and enjoy clothes shopping.

I'm sure a lot of money was spent to have marketing experts identify and name this group, but I could've saved them a lot of money. And they didn't need a new name.

They're called, "Urban Girly Men"...

And now for an installment of Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Maurice Dickman.

Despite being a head of the game, he often gets the shaft.

(My my, what is Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason coming to?)



With a new "Bach'lor" rip-off game

ol' Simon Cowell's ridin' his fame.

Imagine the gent

without the accent

and his "clever" words are just lame.



Spike Lee has dropped his suit against Viacom and what will now be called "Spike TV."

Well, not actually DROPPED it. "Settled" it.

Meaning, of course, money changed hands.

So "appropriating his name" was never the major issue here, was it?...

I've written recently about how we're a race of knuckleheads doomed to repeat the mistakes of history over and over again. And reality, by more than one definition, has just thrown me a little proof:

"Big Brother 4" is coming to your TV set...

Wal-Mart now recognizes, or is going to recognize, same-sex partnerships among employees for benefits and such.

This is an example of the Great Scam, exercised by all sorts of conglomerates in our fine nation.

Latch onto a new cause, look like the Good Guy, and enjoy the public praise that obscures all the evil, anti-union, censorship-mad activities you regularly engage in, filling your pockets through evil and outwardly good means at the same time...

In perusing the "massage" ads for cheap titillation with my Sunday paper--and daydreaming of an alternate universe where I'd have the guts, lifestyle and morals to try them out--I noted one with the headline "Creamy and Steamy."

Steamy is all fine and good, but I'd have to have 'em hold the, er, "cream"...

Half-assed voyeurism is a lot like life itself.

One window I've occasionally watched from the porch (netting me scantily dressed roommates occasionally) now uses a shade most of the time--but one on a floor above now leaves the shade open to reveal a hot little number (with hot little numbers)!

One shade closes and another opens...

And now for Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason: Dr. John Dudd.

His marriage is lacking that "spark."



Seems Stonehenge has driven berserk

a fellow named Anthony Perks

who does now believe

it's one giant beave

(I think he's just hung out with "jerks").



The above limerick is based on a true story. Mr. Perks has indeed proposed that Stonehenge was built as a giant vagina to honor the Earth Mother.

A frightening thought, perhaps titillating to some. But even the biggest dolt in bed could find the "man in the boat" with that one...

Speaking of dolts, those loser fans running onto the field at the former Comiskey Park recently are all in the news, with the MLB All-Star Game set to hit town.

My, the hubbub it's cause. My, the politicians seizing the opportunity to avoid solving any real problems.

I've finally formed an opinion on the matter: Do absolutely nothing about this "problem." Especially considering the "excitement" level of a typical baseball game, this is a plus for MLB. I don't watch a lot of baseball, but I'd have to call it a good day at the park when you get to witness a hee-haw engaging in drunken shenanigans...

Speaking of nefarious shenanigans, it appears that the Palestinian terrorist groups are blowing themselves and others up despite the cease fire. Israel gave 'em a few concessions and now they want more--namely, the release of thousands of prisoners.

And we feel we can reason with these drooling, blood-thirsty, religiously addled folks because... Why?...

Speaking of terrorism, "American Idol" has been renewed for three more years, which says a lot about network executives' "foresight."

If "Idol" is still a hit in three years, the cultural terrorists have surely won...

Speaking of "Yes, but don't call me Shirley," a load of mergers occurred yesterday, further consolidating the already surely-consolidated-to-hell business environment in the U.S., and because of this, the stock market went up.

Bend over and do your part for the economy!...

Speaking of the business section of the newspaper, I read today that banks are working on becoming more kid-friendly, with the addition of playlands and all sorts of crap, in hopes of attracting more comers, specifically those who tote their children around.

I thought banks were discouraging walk-up business with extra fees and all?

Well, in any event, there are now only 16 square feet of the United States that are still not kid-friendly...

Speaking of pathetic attempts at laughs, The International Society for Humor Studies is holding a conference at Northeastern Illinois University.

Humor STUDIES? Gag me with a professor!...

Speaking of happenings that have a questionable reason for existing, the National Do Not Call list, costing us millions of dollars, is set to go into effect real soon. But I have a better idea:

Why doesn't the telemarketing industry put together it's own Moron Database?

Really, we all suffer because of the few morons who actually buy shit from telemarketers--without the occasional successes, the industry simply wouldn't exist. So rather than bothering right-thinking people like myself (and, of course, DL readers, if you stretch the definition of "right-thinking" a bit), the industry can just call the proven morons who'll actually consider not only listening to the spiel, but actually buying their crap...

Speaking of morons, McDonald's marketing folks are now adding "wi-fi" (wireless) computer connections at McDonald's.

I've been saying all along that Mickey D's should fix the basics and stop all this fluff crap if they want to improve their bottom line. But as long as they don't see a need to put the "fast" back in "fast food," perhaps people will want to hit the Internet while waiting for their order...

Speaking of corporate buffoonery, I've spoken before of some of the great scams in corporate history. The grand-daddy of the all being, of course, selling bottled water to people who have water service in their homes. I've also spoken of the great scam convincing us that, despite the fact that generation after generation has done fine with normal sized cars, we simply NEED gargantuan minivans and SUVs to have kids.

Not quite as nefarious, but necessitating mention considering the season, is the Gas Grill Scam.

Tastes like "regular" cooking and defeats the whole purpose of barbecue as essentially a portable, outdoor stovetop. But it's one of those items that people feel compelled to buy as they're "movin' on up," along with a home or condo and all the other trappings.

So, as income goes up, taste goes down. Which, if you've ever eaten at an overpriced restaurant, is more than fitting...

Speaking of "fitting," I must take issue with folks who are apt to proclaim that "Everything happens for a reason."

I recently heard this quote from an allegedly marriage-geared "reality" show contestant. In this case, it's an excuse for stupidity--I'm dysfunctional and attention starved, but this somehow entails destiny!

Sorry, but some things happen for no reason whatsoever. Like the popularity of "reality" TV...

Speaking of wondering if there's hope for the human race, recently, I've been thinking about the fact that civil rights movements, once they've reached a certain point, indubitably roll toward full-blown societal acceptance. (Wow. I think that's the first time I've used "indubitably" in a sentence!)

This was spurred by the recent court victory in which the Supreme Court declared "sodomy" laws unconstitutional.

You see, I was thinking: Back in the '60s and '70s, those fighting the push for racial equality were destined to be losers--once the movement had a foothold, there was no way stuff like Jim Crow laws could possibly last. And I also starting thinking that those throwin' hissy fits about the Supreme Court sodomy ruling are history's losers as well.

And I then proceeded to wonder: When will it end?

This frightened me. Oh, there's a lot of good work yet to be done. But concerning the PETA people, well... At some point, we'll have to declare ourselves fully enlightened and leave it at that...

Speaking of frightening things, it's now time for a double-header of Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Ambassador Margaret K. McMillion. Names like that aren't a dime a dozen. Although they're around $3 a half-dozen in a super value meal.

And another: Megan van de Hey.

I can't think of a good pun on that--actually, I can't think of any pun on that, as the "good" thing never seems to stop me.

I just find it funny...

And speaking of using "speaking of..." as a lead-in too much, I'm outta here.



Ms. Witherspoon--hot little Reese--

is true blonde, right down to her crease.

How I'd love a crack

at that tasty snack:

A melt-in-your-mouth Reese's Piece!



The young wannabe school shooter with a wannabe school shooter posse (I'll let the other news outlets keep mentioning his name and bringing him the infamy that was undoubtedly part of his motivation) (P.S. did I just call DL a "news outlet"?)... Well, anyway, I read today that this evil doofus was in fact bullying another member of his posse into cooperation.

So... Ultra-liberals will bitch and moan that "bullying" drove him to the crimes but... He was a wannabe bully himself.

Man, he was one major "wannabe."


Another S&Y prediction comes true: "The Osbournes" is tanking in the ratings...

As perhaps one of those Horsemen of the Coming Cultural Apocalypse retreats...

One man who should really shoot himself in the head if he wants to benefit society is Chicago Alderman William Burke.

(I know that's not very nice. So I'll sort of apologize right off the bat.)

He is the knucklehead pushing Chicago's bars to go smoke free, despite the er, "rousing" success of New York's Prohibition III.

Now, Burke is in the news for accusing a local newsman of having improper licensing of his bed & breakfast.

Let's see. The city's budget is toilet-swimming, much like the national budget. We're continually a contender in the murder stats; SBC has basically been declared "corporate royalty", etc., etc., etc.--but the most pressing problems are protecting bar-goers from unproven second-hand smoke damage and cracking down on those sinister bed & breakfasts.

You know... Oh, okay. I'll stay with the apology...

As long as I'm looking at Chicago idiots... Did anybody doubt that America doesn't have its own Taliban?

We have militant religious fundamentalist Rev. Michael Pfleger. He's known for attacking (not physically) the real enemies of the South Side neighborhood in which he preaches--like those ultra-violent types who attend "Weed Fest" here in our lovely city.

Now, a South Side liquor store owner is suing Pfleger because he's been harassing him and his store two or three times a week for three years. Why is Pfleger upset with the guy? Well, among other things, the store sells--duh!--liquor and blunt cigars. Which can be used to, oh, you know.

Of course, you can make a fine pot pipe out of tin foil or an apple, but Pfleger hasn't been harassing grocery stores...

Silvio Berlusconi heads perhaps the world's first Corporateocracy. (Perhaps not the first--look around you--but the first that's blatantly so.)

He owns something like 90 percent of Italy's media. And is also Prime Minister.

Now, since Italy is the current head of the European Union--a bastion of all that's wrong with ultra-liberalism to begin with... Well, I'm including this just in case anybody out there has the funny idea that the EU isn't a pathetic, doomed experiment...

And as long as we're touching on the EU, has anybody else noticed that a huge portion of modern liberals are just as snooty as conservatives?

Conservatives have the reputation for thinking they "know better." Their morality is the best morality, blah blah blah. But think for a moment about all the liberal initiatives recently that are "for our own good."

Evil is non-partisan...

And I thought I'd leave you with a funny headline from today's Chicago Tribune e-mail headline newsletter:

"Red Fox the Likely Killer of Bald Eagle at National Zoo in Washington, D.C."

I thought he was dead. You know, up there with Elizabeth.



I'd like to take a roll with Megan, in de van, and in de hay. :p

How was your camping trip, by the way?

So, you topped my pun yesterday in "Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason."

Van de hey gets good and dry, by the way, we'll take it to market.



A wild girl and modern day flapper

dressed sleazy and yet somehow dapper.

Her booty, quite ample

was commonly "sampled"

By almost ev'ry local rapper.



Ah, the sweet sounds of summertime! Birds chirping, children laughing, the occasional roar of a hopelessly optimistic crowd from nearby Wrigley Field, the sounds emitted from an open window as a chick gets the hell banged out of her...

Sure as hell beats phone sex.

It's tougher to get work done in the summer, you know...

Okay, the whole premise behind the cigarette company lawsuits is that nobody could have ever know that inhaling smoke could be dangerous.

One of the complaints among those who feel compelled to tell others how to live is that the entertainment industry has glamorized smoking for so long.

But... Just why did they glamorize it?

Does "Rebel Without a Cause"-type fare thrive on portraying safe behavior? Did James Dean's character suck lollipops? Enjoy rice cakes?

No, he smoked. It was considered rebellious. But why was an activity that couldn't possibly be foreseen as dangerous associated with rebellion, then?...

The Chicago-area town of Skokie has enacted the state's strictest smoking ban, banning it from all restaurants and restaurant-annexed bars that are not enclosed.

Skokie is upscale. Really, really upscale.

See yesterday's S&Y about the snooty-fication of liberalism.



Pittsburg's Randall Simon won't be

punished all that hard, although he

found self-control lacking--

pulled a "sausage whacking"

for all the spectators to see!



Happy fourth birthday to Daily Limerick!

Geez, I know I should have led up to this with more fanfare--at one point I thought I missed it, thinking it was June 12th, when really it was July 12, 1999--plugging the All Limerick Slam I'd be hosting for... Oh, all that info is at the bottom of this every freakin' day.

But falling on Saturday this year--make that "Cheezy Saturday"--why, it's almost a sign from the Heavens! "On DL's Fourth Birthday, it is written that a perfect excuse will be given to the Chief Limericist to produce a Cheezy Edition, so that us Gods can somehow humbly thank the mortal who has brought so much, er, 'mirth,' or something, to mankind through this most Ectoplasmic of e-publications!"

Anyway, I can now say I'm in my fifth year of "service." By DL's fifth birthday, I will have the "acceptable" Web site I've been harping about for so long. (Yes, it's the perfect excuse to quash my procrastination, especially since I have a much better computer to handle such things now.) I hope to recruit more columnists or what have yous. Do a PR blitz, hoping for slow news days and slow editors, to plug the big anniversary! I already have an idea for the Web site, just haven't implemented it yet, for an extra feature to supplement the Limerick, S&Y and LTTI... So start celebrating! Recruit a subscriber! Send e-gifts! Naked photos! (Not necessarily of yourself, of course--you know what I like!)

And, as DL has unofficially asserted all along: The world is your oyster--and oysters, my friend, are an aphrodisiac!



Her panties were all in a bunch

(white chick, fantasizing at lunch)

of black man, in bed

legs over her head

getting' the old sweet "Nestle Crunch."



So a whole hubbub has emerged because Charlie Brown... er, Dusty Baker made some comments about blacks being better able to handle the heat, etc.

"Racism!" "Stereotyping!" "Non-Diversity Loving!" Blah blah blah.

Question: Is being able to take the heat better (whether or not it's true) negative in some manner?...

Saw a photo of Barbara Bush this week--Dubya's daughter Barbara, that is--and I realized there's an area of knowledge I should be an expert upon, but which I am seriously lacking knowledge in.

Hot "First Chicks" (daughters of presidents). Historically, how do they stack up? (Pun not intended, but giggle-inducing anyway.) Is Barbara the hottest ever? I only remember Amy Carter and Chelsea Clinton (Reagan's were all older and out of the White Pad).

By the way, a First Chick is, by very definition, highly bangable, even if her level of pulchritude wouldn't make her otherwise bangable. Nonetheless, this makes Barbara doubly bangable; uncommonly bangable...

I noticed in my TV grid that the Family Channel is showing some show called "Jesse."

Is it... THE infamous "Jesse"? The Christina Applegate egg-sucker that rivaled "Suddenly Snoozin'" in moronity? Didn't I just recently write that "family-friendly" too often translates as "Hela-lame"?...

Saw a "help wanted" ad for "American Excess..." er, make that "American Express Financial Advisors."

So, is the first thing out of their mouths with clients, "Don't use our cards!"...

I missed the boat on this one, but did anybody celebrate with a Slurpee on Friday?

It was July 11. You know, 7-11?

S&Y: We try harder...

Or do we?...

And now for a perhaps-history-making, quadruple edition of Laughing at Strangers (and strange companies) for No Real Good Reason:

The Chubb Institute.

Who named this entity? Talk about a marketing boner!

And the Associated Press' Darlene Superville.

Her high school rival was Lutherville. (Ugh.)

And (I may have touched on this name before; not sure) Dick Major.

Talk about a gay curriculum!

And last but not necessarily least: Lawrence P. Curley.

There's no way he's changin' his name--it's permanent.






TODAY'S POEM: Lori's Poem

1 o'clock

She doesn't know from poetry.

Her music's sudden,


A mouth of cherry O's.

2 o'clock

We hold no indecision.

No jealous maledictions.

No fragile dispositions.

We hold each other.

3 o'clock

The solace of our bed.

We write prayers on our skin,

wash the distance from our eyes.

As close as touch, her breath.

4 o'clock

The screen bursts in moving colors.

Light is lacing through our hands.

5 o'clock

Her hand wet with rain

pulls an orange from its stem.

I open a book of poetry

and write a passage about love.

6 o'clock

Her sweat

is sweet.

Her eyes

are seas.

She holds me to

the tide.

7 o'clock

I will learn the bass for you.

I will learn the drums for you.

I will learn the flute for you.

I will learn the glockenspiel, too.

8 o'clock

Leaning on the gate,

I watch her cross the street.

9 o'clock

Windows remind me of her.

I love to see inside.

10 o'clock

I combed the sunlight from her hair.

I comb the starlight from her hair.

I comb the moonlight from her hair

with my hands.

11 o'clock

She is the snow in the trees.

A late-night December's hunger.

12 o'clock

I'd like to lie in bed naked against you

while you read me poetry.

These words blossom and sway.

They catch against the window.

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at b_squirrel@hotmail.com. He will bite.]



I'd love an intense game of twister

with tennis' hot Williams Sisters.

That fine fantasy

is steamy with me--

in fact, it might be a two-fister!



The "two-fister" reference above might require some explanation.

By "two-fister" I am referring to the, er, physical fantasy supplement of using two hands for a concept that normally only needs one, and... That doesn't clear things up, does it? But for those of you with a, er, diversity in dirty mental tracts, or something, well, go ahead and interpret it as you will...

I lost my freakin' notebook again.

Once again, I know where it is and... Do you really need to know this? It's not like I'm making excuses for a paltry edition again.

By "paltry," I mean an edition lacking content or beef. One could easily make an argument that the quality and humor levels are consistently paltry...

Kalil Shikaki is a Palestinian... er, surveyor? Studyer of things? Statistician?

I'm not sure what his title is, but Shikaki completed a survey of Palestinians in which he found that half (or more) weren't necessarily concerned with the "Right of Return"--of displaced Palestinians to return to the former Palestine, aka Israel, which has been an issue in the war process... er, peace process. Most simply wanted peace and some sort of workable treaty with Israel.

The nutball groups who are pretty much in charge of "official" Palestinian policy organized mobs to storm Shikaki's office and wreak all sorts of havoc.

There's a lot of hope for a peace process in which one side views truth as the enemy, but, hey, Dubya, take 3,173...

I heard some reports out of New York about how the NYPD is now involved in making sure people aren't smoking in bars.

Somehow, I don't think we'll see an episode of "Cops" on this topic...

Some folks are now all up in arms because Beyonce recording a video or some such dreck that included "lasciviously" dancing over the land containing Grant's Tomb.

I can't speak for Grant, but when I'm dead and buried, I hope somebody will be lobbying to make sure a hot babe dances over me, regularly, at that...

I've been reading a lot of stories about police abuses in our "Government Knows Best" age.

Which got me to some of that pesky thinkin': We have '60s style cop tactics, but modern style activism.

But look on the bright side! We... Er... There is... Um... Well, there's gotta be a bright side, whether we can see it or not. So I guess we can't LOOK on it... But we can think about it... I think... Right?...

The 14th National Poetry Slam is coming to Chicago next month. I'm not sure why the 14th is bringin' it all back home to where it started, but it is.

I volunteered months ago to help out--preferably to host an All-Limerick Slam, which is usually one of the events.

I was assured that my offer(s) was passed on to the appropriate folks and... I haven't heard anything back. I've been told that the committee is really unorganized but, of course, my guardian paranoid angel wonders if there's another reason.

If there is an All-Limerick Slam, I will most certainly attend as a contestant. In fact, I didn't intend to compete when I hosted the last time the NPS hit Chicago... Which, in a quest for creative marketing, birthed the Daily Limerick and... Hmmm.

Perhaps I've stumbled upon a "reason" for my shunning this time.



> Happy birthday to Daily Limerick. Can I take this damned party hat off my

> head now?

Unless you're willing to wear it all this year as a promotional stunt for our Fifth Year of Service. Otherwise, keep a lid on it.


Oh, and I hope you are wearing something other than the party hat, but... On second, third and fourth thought, I don't want to know. (It didn't require that much thinking, but evil concepts have a way of riding a cosmic, sinister boomerang back into your head.)



Ol' Archaeological Tex

had a cock so strong, it could flex.

At the digging sites

he'd pork chicks each night

with pure Tyrannosaurus Sex.



Kweisi Mfume declared that the money of contenders for the Democratic presidential nomination who didn't show for an NAACP event is as good as "Confederate dollars."

Because, of course, they're all out whippin' friends and family into a furor to fight for the cause of slavery...

Mfume was right to be pissed off about the situation, despite his comparing apples and planetary sized oranges. It seems that even the Dem candidates who did show were haggling about wanting to appear by themselves.

It's much easier to put a spin on one's bullshit without that pesky debate our First Amendment was meant to promote...

Overall this is a very good development because the NAACP is now announcing that the Democrats can't count on their votes. The Dem strategy of counting on the "at least they're not Republican" votes is faltering, so perhaps we'll again be able to tell the difference between Republicans and Democrats at some point in the near future...

By the way, how CAN you tell a Republican from a Democrat? "D, M, O, T, P, U, B, L, I and N"...

Can you makes sense of that last gag?...

Submit Republicrat jokes at your leisure, Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers!...

Pat Robertson is urging his followers to pray for the three most "liberal" Supreme Court justices to step down, after the Supremes ruled that, more or less, government has no business policing the sex habits of consenting adults.

In today's world, people are evidently finding a shortage of worth causes to pray for...

It's been a while since I've ripped into the "Love Is..." comic strip because of the questionable direction it has taken since the old hippie lady died and her son took over. (I'll spare you the details of semi-recent rantings, but will remind you that I was never a fan of the strip to begin with--although I can't help reading every comic that appears in my daily paper--but must take issue with its latest incarnation.)

Today's installment proclaims, "Love is... Calling your parents regularly."

And it shows the naked man and woman on the phone; one speaking into the receiver and the other crowding in to be involved in the conversation. The speech from the two reads, "Hi Mom... Hi Dad..."

This is a couple. And they evidently have the same mom and dad. (Insert Kentucky joke here.)

Or perhaps you call me a cynic. "They're brother and sister, pervert!" the true "Love Is..." fan might argue.

I'm not sure if that improves the situation, though. A brother and sister hanging out naked together? (Insert Tennessee joke here)...

I think his/her/its name is "Clippy." That animated paper clip who's supposed to help you with any Windows-related problems. And I can't imagine that I'm the only person annoyed by him/her/it.

But, damn it all, I'm a sucker for any sort of animated creature. (With the exception of those annoying Blockbuster video animals, many Disney characters, the Arby's oven mitt and probably some more that I'm forgetting.) So I feel bad about sending the bastard away. He looks at me with those big, cartoonish, Microsoft-created eyes and...

Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Nedra Pickler.

She only dates hip guys. Those who are cool as a cucumber.


Laurence Pringle.

An author who earns small potatoes.



A wannabe starlet named Pam

had some of the World's Finest Gams.

Did not realize

that she and her thighs

were famous on up-skirt Web-cams.



Eliot Wald died this week. He was a Hollywood comedy writer and, previous to that, a Chicago Sun-Times reporter.

Although I'm sure he was a fine man, I'm not mentioning this because I was a fan of Wald (but it's altogether possible that I was a fan of something he wrote and just don't know it).

I'm mentioning it because the Sun-Times misspelled his name...

Mass-mailing marketers have turned their desperation up a notch.

I received some crap today that said "do not throw away." Another even begged, "PLEASE do not discard." (Emphasis added.)

Perhaps this works with some people. I do find these disclosures helpful, however. "Rrrripp"...

Don't all these alleged hipsters dying their hair bright red realize they look like Raggedy Ann and/or Andy?...

Just a tangled, twisted thought:

It has occurred to me lately that fighting The Man today entails more research and wisdom that it did in the past.

In the past, folks protested outright discrimination or police brutality. Today, some of the causes most deserving of protest are more oblique--FCC and copyright rulings, for instance.

And thus the Entertainment Industry's continual catering to a lower and lower common denominator makes a bit more sinister sense...

By the way, I like the term "Sinister Sense." It's a rare trait, however...

And here's a question:

If you are a good Samaritan attending a youthful poetry reading, how can you tell who the hell is REALLY suicidal?...

Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Ernest Outlaw.

Because even criminals have some good traits.

And: Henry Bangser.

His wife is sure ugly, but Henry Bangs'er anyway.



> Heh, I got a great political joke for you!


> George Bush.

Well, it's good to receive a reminder, after making fun of the Democrats, that there are two sides to any screwed up political system.

Perhaps I don't make as much fun of Bush because, well, everybody else seems to be doing a fine job of it. And he's a ridiculously easy target.

So I don't know if I'll write any Bush jokes for ya'. But if you'd like to perform some and are unsure of your annunciation, I'll dub-ya'.

P.S. Are my obligatory attempts at punnery something scaring off more Letters to the Idiot?



Seems many today who protest

are bearin' their privates and breasts.

I oft miss The Cause

but do think and pause

'bout SOMETHING they get off their chests.



The Vatican recently issues some revisions in the way that mass is to be celebrated. If they haven't hit your town yet, they're coming soon.

The revisions are mostly ritualistic matters.

They were looking to improve the religion and this was the biggest problem those cats in Rome could identify with today's Catholic church...

Speaking of meaningless pronouncements, Illinois' Governor Rod Blagojevich has decided that the new state policy will be to add billboards and advertising along Illinois tollways. As a way to help the struggling state budget, this seems to make sense.

G-Rod, however, also recently enacted a policy to crack down on the omnipresent billboards in the state, namely along our tollways, as a means of beautifying things.

He says that the two goals aren't contradictory.

For anybody out there still thinking that highly pressing concerns of society should therefore receive government oversight...

A new study finds that the more often a guy, er, "get off," the less likely he is to catch prostate cancer.

Can't wait to inform the wife.

There was another development earlier this year that I don't believe I mentioned in S&Y: The finding that the swallowing of sperm helps a woman's chances to get pregnant, because her body naturally fights off sperm somewhat as "outside invaders" and in quaffing the, er, beverage, her body learns to accept the little buggers. (And, sometimes, little "bugger-ers.")

I'm stickin' with the theory that God is most certainly a man.

You go, God!...

Pat Robertson, that whack-job "Christian" kook who few take seriously, with the exception of broadcast news folks craving his ever-full chest of sound bytes, was blathering on with his typical nutball propaganda on CNN last night.

The news peg was his recent call for followers to pray for the retirement of the "liberal" Supreme Court judges after the Supremes' recent ant-sodomy-law ruling.

Robertson mentioned a good deal of things he and his knucklehead flock have prayed for in the past. One was for the fall of the Soviet Union. (Although I doubt it was with the fervor he prays for, say, school prayer.)

He also mentioned vigorous prayer to overturn Roe v. Wade.

Have you ever considered, Mr. Robertson, that perhaps God isn't listening to you? Or are other folks just praying harder?...

I had the "pleasure" of seeing a comedienne on Leno last night.

Most of her hunk focused on the difference between East Coast, West Coast and Midwest life.

Hey, lady: Although retro is all hip and cool and such, and stuff that's 20-years-old can be revisited, it doesn't encompass one's MATERIAL.

Baby got hack...

By the way, on my notepaper (as, you may recall, I am still missing my notebook), I wrote "EC, WC, MW" to connote "East Coast," "West Coast" and "Midwest" for myself. But I ended it with: "CotC."

Anybody have any idea what the hell I was getting' at?...

I've discovered disturbing information that points to Sun-Times TV grid assemblers employing cavemen.

Today's description of tonight's "Will & Grace (and a Special Guest Star or Two)":

"Boss tells Will to fire friend"...

And now for Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Arizona Congressman Jeff Flake.

Must be spilling eastward from California.



Now, Ang Jolie's talkin' lesbo.

My advice to her is: You, go!

If "reality"

must plague our TV

why can't they give HER a damn show!



It's officially summer now!

Why? A food-related murder has occurred in Chicago!

The murder occurred over the done-ness of a steak on the barbecue. (If it was cooked beyond medium rare, I kinda, sorta understand the anger involved.)

Usually, Chicago has an annual pork-chop-related murder to kick off the season, but we'll settle for this... for now...

It's generally believed that Congress, and especially its Republicans, is especially beholden to the interests of Big Business, the free market, blah blah blah--and this is one of the many reasons slackers give for not voting or becoming active in politics whatsoever (with the exception of the occasional pot-fueled protest of the hip topic of the moment).

Well, you have probably not been paying much attention to the un-sexy news topic of prescription drug legislation (and, damn it all, I think the term "sexy," regarding news, is... well, not good, but look around you). There are a number of legislative possibilities being debated right now, including the idea of making it easier to import foreign drug company products into the country because in other countries, Big Drugs is not as attached at the mouth to the penis of government and prices are much more reasonable.

Normally, the Repulicans (and let's be honest--the Democrats mostly differ by WHICH industries are suckin' on their penises) shout "Free Market" and that's that.

But those most interested in this type of legislation are the old folks. And the old folks, although they're predominantly penny-pinching and not exactly rich as a group, vote.

So here's proof that we CAN beat the corporatocracy. But we probably won't.

There's too much fine "reality" TV to catch!...

I was thinking last night... I've probably mentioned in this space before the fact that I do not drink alcohol because I used to drink far too much alcohol. I don't talk about it much because it's irrelevant to my current life and I'm not a member of that silly AA thing and thus do not have "recovering alcoholic" as a major part of my identity. As Ozzy Osbourne said, and I paraphrase, "People who once broke their legs don't gather in rooms and talk endlessly about it" and so I consider myself recovered, not still "recovering." Ninety-nine percent of the time, I don't even think about alcohol.

I was actually a big pothead, back in the day. It wasn't until after the pothead stage that I developed the drinking problem.

So you could say pot was a gateway drug... to alcohol.

The definition of "gateway drug" is a drug which leads to doing even "harder" drugs.

Therefore, alcohol is a "hard drug" compared to pot.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it.



In yesterday's noting that my own notes on a hack comedienne read "EC, WC, MW" (East Coast, West Coast, Midwest) and were followed by another acronym, "CotC," I asked if readers might know what the hell I meant, which prompted this:


> Cockles of the Colon?

Why, of course! Why didn't I think of that! East Coast, West Coast, Midwest... What comes next? Why, naturally, "Cockles of the Colon."

Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on the letter writer. Going too far could have wreck'd'em.



There was a young fella named Roland

who got a "flush" to clean his colon

which lightened his stress

but caused quite a mess

when afterward, the dope went bowlin'.



Today's Cheezy Saturday edition even includes a derivative of the world "Cheeze." (As you'll recall, I spell "cheese" with a "z" for "zing." Blah blah blah.)

When out in public, I call people all sorts of names, but only in my head. Once common slur is "dick cheeze."

This week, I ran into a group of people whose annoying (to me) behavior earned them the label of "dick cheezes." This was a new one inside my foul-mouthed head. A whole group of 'em! I suppose  I've encountered a group of morons before but just never felt they deserved the special "dick cheeze" designation.

But then I wondered... Well, you know how some proper plurals throw you off? How a group of "attorney generals" are actually "attorneys general"?

So should I have properly called them, "dicks cheeze"?

It's important to be proper with the foul thoughts in your head.



A Cubs game attendee named Shields

dressed so that much flesh was revealed.

In fact, 'twas so pretty

sneak grabs tweaked her tittie--

could say she got some "Wrigley Feels."



In briefing over the "Travel" section of my Sunday newspaper, I was reminded of why I flip-through, and read at least the headlines in, every section of the paper (including ad inserts).

I learned about a resort in Mexico called "Freedom Paradise." I learned that it's not the only one of its type--a "size friendly" travel destination. Which, when you strip away all the P.C. jargon and euphemisms, means that it's a place that welcomes and markets to fat people. A woman quoted in the story related that she could finally wear her bikini without feeling so bad about it. There's more to the resorts than that. The pool ladders are extra sturdy, blah blah blah.

If you've ever been to any public pool, or public beach for that matter, or, actually, if you've ever been out in public, you'll realize that pretty much everywhere is "size friendly" these days. So anybody seeking out these resorts... Well, let's just say that the whole concept is frightening, on many levels.


Has anybody heard that there's an obesity epidemic in this country? Wasn't sure if you'd been clued in.

So, on one hand, many of those hardest hit by the "epidemic" are actively pursuing an agenda of "size acceptance," but they must be brainwashed or something, because, on the other hand, we have lawyers and such pursuing an agenda of "obesity victimhood"...

I recently put forth a simile that society is like a Third Grade Class. You know how when one kid would steal the erasers or something and refuse to fess up, we'd all suffer by staying after class?

One of the key factors leading to the simile's formulation was the recent "Porch Tragedy Media Fest" in Chicago, and nationwide, where 100+ chowderheads crowded onto a porch, collapsed it (resulting in numerous deaths), and now the rest of us are forced to pay--my apartment complex sent notes out to tenants about a new "five people or less" policy on our decks and you know that future tenants are going to suffer as some landlords and builders forego the future building of decks or tear down already existing porches thanks to the cretinous lawyers and droolin' Neanderthal city councilmen.

Well, here's Exhibit B in my new simile: Kraft and other companies are shrinking their portions because we evidently can't control ourselves. So, since most of the time I already have to buy two meals when I "treat" myself to the simplicity of a frozen/microwaveable dinner, now I'm gonna have to buy three?

Thanks, lawyers...

I was reading this weekend about how our pathetically unprepared Homeland Security Department is enlisting corporations to help (and possibly even carry) efforts in case of an emergency. For instance, Verizon would be coordinating communications.

Our government is allegedly broke. But it's a great time for a tax cut! And there's no need to re-evaluate the billions we sink into the hopeless War on Drugs to stop people from hurting themselves (even though they don't want to be stopped), driving up drug prices and funding gangs and terrorists in the process--who, in turn, use up even more of our law enforcement budgets. No need to re-evaluate spending 16 million dollars on stuff like "Do Not Call" telemarketing lists. No need to re-evaluate priorities, speaking of law enforcement--I mean, it's not like we could use the cops in the Homeland Security effort or anything, they might as well be policing second-hand smoke in bars. No need to... Oh, bah.

At first thought, one might think, "Man, has the government fucked up or what!" But the true cynic thinks that maybe it is intended after all.

As we take one step closer to corporatocracy...

By the way, if the government is admitting an inability to help us in the number one way government is supposed to--in fact, the whole fucking reason we need governments to begin with--how in the hell can anybody think we should be giving government MORE duties?...

And now, here's Sunday Story Time:

I don't mean to scare any of the single folks out there away from marriage, but here's an example of the type of thing you can look... "forward" to.

You're awakened by the phone ringing at about 9 a.m. on a Saturday--the only day you have an opportunity to sleep in a bit, not to mention the fact that you went to bed after 2 a.m. the night before. It's your wife, who's out by her parents, and you are planning to meet up with them later in the day, anyway.

So you stumble out, start the coffee maker and discover that you quite urgently need to... er, "powder your nose." So you're in the "powder room" for a bit, having eaten some spicy food the night before--again, less than half-awake--and not one but two more messages come in from the wife. You overhear something about her wanting a divorce.

This is a fine thing to hear. Much less over the answering machine. Much less when you're less-than-half-awake, struggling with, er, "nose powdering," and still coffee-less at around 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning when you were up until 2 a.m. the night before.

So I slug down a little bit of coffee and call the wife. I did had stuff I wanted to accomplish before leaving the house, but I instead spent about an hour discussing the soap opera-esque, make-believe world of chicken scratch.

The most ridiculous thing occurred. I had left my notebook by my wife's parents place (her stepbrother and stepsister are in town for a mere two weeks from out of state) and my wife, who reads vary little of my writing that is honed and meant to enter the public domain (a common occurrence among writers in relationships, from what I'm told), was nonetheless drawn in by my notebook  of chicken scratch. I can't even read my own writing half the time, it's so messy. But somehow her overactive imagination read about a "Maria" and some other things that have no basis in reality--of course they don't. They exist only in mis-translated chicken scratch. So I explained as best I could, not seeing my scribblings.

So everything's fine now. And I guess my day can only get better.

Shit, if it were to get any worse than how it started out, I don't think I'd be alive to tell the tale.






TODAY'S POEM: A poem in light

A poem in light

reveals its warmth and frailties.

Rows of words compound

like sunspots on a star.

It barely casts a shadow.

Such a thin, swift filament

of thought that, once published,

is embarrassed.

Some would embellish bones.

Pat on masking clay.

Stand the lampshade at an angle,

resculpt a shape in hopes of praise.

I will leave this at its pause.

For even as it glimpses,

it can never hope to feel

the morning dust in golden motes.

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at b_squirrel@hotmail.com. He will bite.]



An ex-bang of mine was a Pagan;

pure nutjob (also a near-Vegan).

There's strange paradox:

Chicks off of their rocks

never leave your sex life a'beggin'.



What happened to coffee refills?

I ate dinner out last night, ordered an allegedly "bottomless" cup of coffee and never received ONE refill. I meant to bother the waitress about this, but I was flabbergasted, although I shouldn't be, considering that this is not the first time I've had lackadaisical refill service, but I was extra flabbergasted because this waitress was a pretty good waitress otherwise; in other words, I can't blame my lack of refills on overall bad service.

What is happening to the world today?...

What happened to coffee?

Yes, this is the next logical question.

Are people not getting as many refills today? Am I a dinosaur? I've noticed more and more people quitting coffee lately--and talking about it as if they're goin' cold turkey from heroin--and I've noticed a thinning of the ranks in coffee drinking circles. At work, for instance, us coffee drinkers are in the minority.

Is it Starbucks' fault for making a coffee addiction so financially damaging?...

I'm writing this coffee tragedy off as simply one aspect of the puritanical age we've entered. If you don't believe we're in a puritanical age, I advise you to occasionally glance at a newspaper or the TV news.

And it occurred to me yesterday: We had a puritanical surge in the early part of last century which led to the Prohibition I. Where did that lead us? Hmmm? Think about it.

Oh well, I'll just keep quiet. No reason for us to start paying attention to history now...

And now for Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

School principal (accused of embezzlement) Calvin Gooch.

I can't think of a good pun to add to this one. And I in fact don't know if my puns following the Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason actually add to your, er, "enjoyment."

So take a crack at it yourself, if you like.



A hot chick with ring in the belly

beams impure thoughts to my mind's telly

of my sausage stuffin'

right into her muffin

and slath'rin' that muffin with jelly.



Carol Slezak, a sports columnist in the Chicago Sun-Times, had an interesting take on the Kobe Bryant hubbub--and Lord knows we need to explore more angles of that one! (I'd all her the "token chick sports pundit," which seems to be all the rage, but I'm not a big sports page reader and can't vouch for her competency one way or the other.)

Anyway, Slezak got into the phenomenon of online betting--in this case, people voting on the outcome of the case and auxiliary matters. She took a feminist slant, arguing that betting on a rape case was "cheapening" women overall.

I'll admit, betting on the outcome of a rape case certainly "cheapens" something. But I wouldn't make a sexist thing out of it.

Every aspect of our entire society has been cheapened...

From my TV grid for today I read of the program: "Who Killed Laci Peterson?: Special Report."

Can anything about the Laci Peterson case truly be "special" anymore?...

Here in the fine city of Chicago (and across the world, it seems) newspapers are seeking ways to bring in new readers, in an age of Internet and cable-TV media saturation.

Their cutting edge idea? This week, the Chicago Tribune announced that it has a replacement for "Dear Abby" and the Sun-Times unveiled a "hip" new columnist who writes as "Ask Ellie."

I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, its merely another example of the continual lowering of the already record-low, lowest common denominator. On the other hand, at least the dumbing down is 'old school'...

A newer, syndicated daily comic strip that I happen to enjoy, "Rudy Park," is examining a topic familiar to anybody who's ever worked the "general" phones in a newsroom--as an editorial assistant or what-have-you.

Anybody thus "in the know" realizes there are two things that, mixed together, cause all sorts of trouble: Elderly readers and the cancellation of old comic strips...

After viewing some videos by allegedly "punk" new bands this weekend, I have come up with a new term you can feel free to bandy about: The Mainstream Underground...

And now for Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason: Jack Bleadon.

I'd love to introduce him to Rosy Bandage.



A customer service guy 'fessed

that during his job, he did mess

his pants when young Joyce

with the sultry voice

called up and did change her a-dress.



Sue Storm, a player for the WNBA's Seattle franchise, backed out of a radio stunt in which she was to be spanked on the air for losing a bet to a wacky DJ.

The WNBA, and the Seattle team, didn't want the negative publicity.

More WNBA news when another player actually decides to come through on a similar deal and removes some clothing in public. And in referring to "more news," I'm not talkin' just Slappin' & Yappin'...

Speakin' of chicks I'd like to spank on up (and I know this isn't, er, appropriate, I suppose), that Jessica Lynch is again in the news.

Have I mentioned that I'd like to do her badly? That is, my feelings of lust are "bad," not the way I'd do her up. And my feelings, in my opinion, aren't "bad" as in "not good," or perhaps they are, but... Well, I'd do her up with all the bells and whistles--literally, if she'd prefer.

I saw her on the news and noted her French manicure, which I didn't think was very soldier-like, but nonetheless turns me on like a neon light!

In case you needed a reminder.

She's invited to dinner with me and Destiny's Child.

Holy Christ. I started to imagine that dinner and... Well, it'll have to wait.



Do those calling on wireless phones

to hear dirty lust phone sex tones

look down in their lap

and soon give a slap

to something called "cellular bones"?



Greece, partly in anticipation of the 2004 Olympic Games it will be hosting and the correlating increase in tourism, is increasing its number of licenses for brothels.

Of course, all sorts of European "this and that" commissions are outraged.

One of these commissions (or perhaps they did it collectively) released a statement saying that the brothel fest is something "We do not feel to be compatible with the fundamental ideals behind the Olympics."

Have you paid ANY attention to the Olympic Games lately? If so, you'll see that the brothel idea is completely within the "fundamental ideals" of the Olympics.

The fundamental ideal: Sponsor, product place, market--make money off them in any way possible!



A treat it was to bang young Wendy--

she knew her shaved snatch was quite trendy.

Kicked-ass, for a while

'til flipped, doggy style

(she forgot to wax her rear-endy).



Dubya has doled out 11 "Presidential Medals of Freedom."

Although there's a lot of fun-making to be made at Bush's expense--and, like any politician, he's barely competent enough to handle the assistant manager position at an Arby's--I have to give him credit for one thing:

Two of the medals honored food-related endeavors, those for Julia Child and Dave Thomas. (Posthumously for the former, of course--they didn't drag his carcass on up for the ceremony.) I have to applaud that.

And Bush didn't even refer to Child as being famous for her "Freedom cuisine"...

Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich (that's pronounced... aw, what the hell, news anchors outside Illinois are still entertaining us with their attempts) has been found to be using prisoners to monitor his media appearances. In other words, as employees.

I've heard of this type of thing in other states, as well.

So, the War on Drugs is benefiting somebody--politicians dealing with budgetary constraints!

Many folks are naturally a bit pissed-off over these developments. One argument is that it's dangerous to give important (ahem) government duties to convicts.

Now, if you've ever had any dealings with government workers, you know that the use of convicts might even be a step up...

For those thinking that "liberal" and "conservative" still mean anything, muchless what they originally meant:

First, some background. S&Y has helped spread awareness of a recent FCC cabal, curiously non-covered in most major media, that would allow our already gluttonous media behemoths to gobble up even more TV stations, publications and such. Congress, proving that there may in fact be a God (I go back and forth on this one), is now enacting legislation to prevent the new rules from taking effect.

Now, the "conservative" angle is, "Free market at all costs--no rules for the conglomerates!" The "liberal" angle is, "We need these (and more) regulations on media ownership to promote media diversity!"

Of course, "conservative" is generally a synonym for "Republican" and "liberal" is a synonym for "Democrat." But it's not that simple. Some "liberals" are okay with the new rules because liberalism (and conservatism) isn't as much about ideals as, well, a different angle to rake in money from campaign contributors. And some conservatives are against the FCC's new rulings because of other agendas--for instance, the Christian Coalition is pissed off, too, because its already seeing fewer outlets for its agenda--and because, well, any moron with a modicum of common sense can tell you that these new rules are pure, unadulterated evil.

To throw yet another canister of confusing kerosene onto the fire, I read a news story about these events and it referred to the FCC's goals as "liberalizing" media acquisition rules.

War is Peace, by the way, too...

Speaking of Politically Correct dogma:

A new study (and, Lord knows, we need more of 'em) concludes... Well, this is another one that could be summed up as "duh!"--

Ads urging college students (and others) to "be responsible" concerning alcohol consumption appear in fact to be encouraging drinking.

And this one comes from one of the world's premier venues for Studyers of Things, Harvard.

Who'd have thunk that making something appear even more taboo would make it attractive to youngsters?...

I just have to go on record with this: I am vehemently opposed to the Cameron Diaz/Justin Timberlake affair.

Prime Tail should NOT be associating with full-on, flaming girlie men.

This statement doesn't come without some ambiguity. For, on one hand, I have a tendency to live by the "whatever gets you to the hot chick's bed" philosophy.

But I have to draw the line somewhere.

He was a member of N'Sync.

'Nuff said.



A wife 'cused her hubbie of cheating

(she recorded some lustful bleatings).

He'd got off on "Deb"

(well, searching the Web)

and "cheat" with himself through self-beatings.



Just a goofy concept for today's Cheezy Saturday Edition:

Sammy Sousa.

I guess he would cork his... trumpet?



If you feel that Dubya turned slick

engagin' in unforeseen tricks--

who couldn't construe

that all would get screwed

electing a Bush AND a Dick.



The White Sox have just reached that inevitable point in the season where they have a better record than the Cubs.

Again, I am not a baseball fan, just a vitriolic Cubs/Tribune Company hater.

So I guess my exclamation should not be as much "Go Sox" as, er, "Stop Cubs!"...

Plans are in the works for a new spin-off of the sitcom "Friends," featuring but one of the six annoying characters.

Curiously it was decided that the actor character--soon to be star of "Joey"--would be the one to carry the flame. That way, he can move away from New York (conveniently explaining the absence of the five annoying others from the show) to... Billings, Montana? Baton Rouge? Des Moines?

No, surprise of surprises, Joey, as an actor will move to... Los Angeles!

And foreign viewers may still think that there are only two cities in the US...

I've mentioned in this space that I'm horribly frightened of Bennigan's. (And similar, cookie-cutter suburban fare, ala TFI Friday's.)

But I've just discovered that my current, deepest fear among the Suburban Spawn is Chili's...

Speaking of frightening pop culture trends (and that's probably a bit of a redundancy), while I'm well aware of, and unfortunately a bit accustomed to, the horror that is the Great Commercialization of Entertainment, I saw a new version of the Cadillac commercial featuring Led Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll." This one features all of the actors and actresses lip synching along as they go about their pretty, yuppie lives.

It is not quite as insidious as the Bare Naked Ladies sing-along car commercial, but even more disturbing, for obvious reasons. And, quite frankly, it makes me want to retch.

And the retching grows worse as I realize that I will soon be at least more accustomed to even that level of artistic sacrilege...

And now for today's Sunday Story Time: Citizen's Arrest.

The idea of the term "citizen's arrest" is rarely heard these days, other than on old TV shows featuring small town Americana, ala "The Andy Griffith Show." I did read about the phenomenon recently, spurring this Sunday Story Time, although I forget what it concerned.

I used to live in a cheap, Chicago studio. It was the proverbial shoebox-size, but it suit my needs as a struggling artist who was returning to school for a degree (and thus rarely home anyway) and I was there for six years.

One part of the character of buildings chock full of tiny studio apartments is the soundtrack--you hear a lot of stuff from other people's lives that you don't care to hear (for example, sounds of a chick I had a crush on getting banged in the apartment above), kinda like with omnipresent cell phones.

One day, a friend was over and there was a hubbub in the hall over the volume on one guy's stereo. All sorts of heated words were exchanged, culminating in the stereo player's utter refusal to accommodate his neighbor.

Much to me and my friend's amusement, the neighbor then threatened a "citizen's arrest" and attempted to haul the offender... wherever you haul someone to make a proper citizen's arrest these days.

I urge you all to go out and make a citizen's arrest this week. You know, for educational purposes, so we can all learn about the workings of a modern-day, citizen's arrest.

Or at least for my amusement.






TODAY'S POEM: Empire down

I sleep easier at night

in the rubble of my city.

Public anger brazen, worn.

The first restitution.

What invasive empire built?

There is no new empire.

It all comes down, brick by brick,

passed from hand to hand.

(as it has always been --

gates dismantled, walls shook down)

(leaders hanged, a public square

to kill an era scarred and shared)

(new flags sewn, removed, destroyed;

new flags sewn, removed, destroyed)

(family lines obliterate

in a record building's blaze)

Small arms fire from the market

fills my heart with knowledge.

We -- soldiers, civilians alike --

are but artifacts.

Who would caretake one small tide

in the roll call of seas?

And so we shall sleep easier

in the rubble of our cities.

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at b_squirrel@hotmail.com. He will bite.]



A French chef who oft stopped and gaped

at women with long, lanky shapes

at long last banged one

and had so much funny

a'foldin' her legs like a crepe.



So Bob Hope has actually died.

Did Nostradamus have anything to say about this?

At least now the news outlets can whip out the obituaries they've had at-the-ready for forty years...

All year, especially here in Chicago, the news had dwelled in how many games the Cubs/Sox are out first place. On one level, this makes sense--I don't think either team has been lower than third place all year, and both have mostly hovered around second.

But it occurred to me today that neither team has had much better than a .500 record for very long.

Were the MBL conference make-ups decided based on the noted patheticism of Chicago's team?...

A friend of mine is and American--born here in the US of A.

Her parents, however, are Pakistani. But wait, it's a bit more complicated--they are of Pakistani origin, but were Indian citizens. So, in India, they'd probably be "properly" called "Pakistani-Indians."

But what the hell are they called here?...

If you've ever been a special guest on a corporation's grounds, or perused a company newsletter and managed to stay awake for it, you may have seen a section named, or heard the phrase, "Meet the Staff."

Which gives me a good idea for a tune in my "Porn on Ice" production.

Think on that a bit.

And, by the way, "Porn On Ice" is still seeking investors.



> Wow, Saturday really does equal quality slappin' and yappin's, doesn't it?

The knucklehead... Er, the letter writer is referring to Saturday's Slappin' & Yappin', which, in keeping with the Cheezy Saturday Edition Tradition (if a "tradition" can be established over a couple of months), was rather short.

Here's an excerpt from Saturday's edition, for those who forget:


Well, it was quite short, so I can't excerpt more.

My first instinct is to assume that Mr. Poopy Pants was being sarcastic. But perhaps I'm selling myself short. Quality is different than quantity, after all.

Then again, perhaps I'm selling myself long.

It IS easier to sell one's self long. Or so I've heard.



A porn stash was seized by The Wife;

the man brandished 'gainst her a knife.

Might seem rather scary

But, since they were married,

she threatened his only sex life!



The Pentagon is establishing an "online futures market" whereby folks can buy options (kinda like legal betting) on what will happen next in the Mideast.

I'm rather confused as to how this will work--hell, I'm confused about what the hell this IS. And the sparse news coverage I've seen today has only confused me more.

I would imagine that profit is a motive here, but the given reason is to utilize the public's inklings to better predict what may happen next in the Mideast and ultimately help shape better policies.

Something tells me a lot of time and brain waves were spent in dreaming up this scheme. A much better use of time than, say, fixing the bumbling FBI and CIA...

Perhaps you've heard about the "story" that broke concerning a Las Vegas operation allowing people to "hunt" (via paintball) voluptuous, nude (or nude-esque) women.

Turns out the whole story was a wash. A publicity stunt. To sell videos or... well, something or other.

Confusing stories are all the rage now, apparently.

Anyhoo, Oscar Goodman, the mayor of Las Vegas, prattled on about how the people behind this scam will be punished to the fullest extent, because nobody should be allowed to "embarrass" Las Vegas.

CAN one "embarrass" Las Vegas? Just what would someone do to "embarrass" Vegas?

This sounds like a job for... Michael Bloomberg!...

Speaking of major embarrassments, the National Football League has arranged for Britney Spears to perform as part of the kick-off to the 2003-04 season.

Has anybody told the NFL that Britney, well, er, Britney... Is on her 17th minute about now?

I think that perhaps she'll ALWAYS be famous. (Although, especially since the advent of "where are they now?" shows and "reality" TV, it seems that, once famous, you remain famous. Or at least "famous.")

I predict right here and now that Britney will be the next Zsa Zsa Gabor. Generations will recognize her as famous while being unsure exactly WHY she's famous...

Speaking of misplaced fame, whatever will Ann Jillian and Susan Anton do now that Bob Hope is dead?...

As we approach the Hollywood age of Nothing New (in which there will be enough material out there to simply remake everything already done over, and over, and over again), Tim Burton, who will be re-making "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" (or was that the name of the book?--ain't lookin' it up now), had planned to cast Christopher Walken as Willie Wonka.

The Wicked Witch of the West is old and trite now, I guess, and we need a new character to leave children with nightmares well into adulthood...

I saw a commercial yesterday, drawing the viewer in by latching onto the inadequacy a new wife feels in pleasing her in-laws.

I found out that the answer is... Teeth Whitening!

It was a serious, dramatic, emotion-tugging treatment. No hint of tongue in cheek.

Sleep with the plumber, leave the kids home alone while you gallavant, and help yourself to all the crack you can smoke. Just make sure you feed this most disturbing of growth industries...

And now for Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Vincent Mellon. Lonely guy needs a good thumpin'.

And a murderer you may have heard about: Otheniel (SIC?) Askew.

Something is... Akilter in this guy's head.



A Greenpeace fanatic and ho

goes wherever whales tend to go.

So when whales are sighted

dual meaning's provided

when you hear the phrase, "Thar she blows!"



Manhattan will now be the source of the world's first all gay high school.

Because segregation worked so damn with the racial thing...

The Glenview (Ill.) State Bank is under fire for praising some cat named Hitler's economic policies in Germany during the Great Depression in one of its regular, economic newsletters (Germany was one of the few countries to escape the GD).

Oddly enough, this created quite a hubbub.


So some PR guy actually thought this would be a good idea.

Oh! Is this the guy responsible for "New Coke"?...

I read today about a new book for advertising/marketing folks called, "Brands that Rock." It focuses on using rock stars as a model for running corporations.

So. First, "rock and roll" becomes a corporate thing. And now this.

The merger is near complete...

I read today about another professional football player collapsing in the spring training heat.

Have I just only recently begun paying attention, or is this happening more and more often these days?

Global warming? No--this summer's been especially cool. (Although dogmatic environmentalists have tied this cool weather into global warming somehow, too.)

Is this just part of the Great Pussification?

That's another theory of mine. We're just growing wimpier all the time (and fatter, and less discerning in our entertainment choices, etc., etc., etc.).

If the U.S. was attacked by an invading army on our soil, for instance, many would be reluctant to fight. Bombs and firearms produce byproducts, and the second-hand smoke from the weapons would seem too dangerous to many of us...

I've been going over some old Daily Limericks lately. The archives for the legitimate Web site to come form one reason for this, and I'm also sorting "best ofs" for performance and possible publication reasons.

And, man, in late 2000--from late October, through November and, well, I'm still pluggin' forward--I was really on a roll!

I don't know how to explain it. As you know, some are excellent (or "passable"--take your pick) and some are... Well, not excellent. But I was really on a roll!

And I don't know why. Perhaps it's because I moved back to Chicago from L.A. Perhaps it is related to the debut of Slappin' & Yappin' on Nov. 1, 2000.

Perhaps there are other "rolls" I haven't yet uncovered. I'll keep you posted.

Rolls other than... Now, of course. Right?


Damn it all, where are the letters!



Can call me a "Patriot's Grinch"

but I lust for Jessica Lynch.

With vigor, I'd screw her--

no simple, "I'd do her"--

and no mere tail "good in a pinch."



Shania Twain performed in concert this week in Chicagoland and, although I read a lengthy review (in vain), I have yet to find out why she was booed. (An e-news source filled me in on the booing. I didn't follow the full link because I think they charge for such service and, in any event, I'm leery of wasting too much time reading about a Shania Twain concert--I read most of the review, which I never would have done without the booing angle, and the particular write-up didn't even mention the fact that she was booed.)

So this is a cry for help. Of sorts.

Can you ignore the, er, tears?...

A faction of the nutty, anti-fun Left is attacking yet another great American institution: Barbecue.

Yup. Pollutes. Blah blah blah. I wouldn't be surprised if some tight-ass whack-job somewhere is conspiring with a lawyer over second-hand barbecue smoke, too.

As far as I know, I'm still the only, um, well, "pundit" to have identified and written of our current War on Fun...

By the way, the first recorded use of "blah" in DL/S&Y came on 11/8/2000, when Slappin' and Yappin' was a mere pup.

The entire text of that day's Slap n Yap: Blah...

I am currently reading a MAD Magazine "Best of the '80s" book, and it brought great giggles, given the "advances" in pop cultural knowledge today, to see a feature called, "A Peek Behind the Scenes at Pee-Wee's Playhouse."

Funny, but I think they missed a few things...

I saw a TV grid listing this week for a movie starring Dabney Coleman.

Long time, no hear about.

Pure acting genius!...

And, er, "adult" feature I watched the other day listed a credit I found interesting. "Assistant directed by..."...

Okay, it was one of those actual "couples" flicks. One common euphemism is "marital aid" or "couples movie," and, usually, I'll admit, my watching of such fare, and the fare I choose, is a solo endeavor... And this one was, too. At least for this particular viewing. But it was for couples purposes.

Anyway, Nina Hartley eerily reminds me of Ms. Gugle, who taught us sex ed. in high school. Everything is "beautiful" about sex. Wonderful. God-given. Nature approved.

Of course, Nina was a little more... Hands on. In fact, she was a lot more... EVERYTHINGS on. Which is as it should be, and I'm sure you'd agree, especially if you've ever seen Ms. Gugle...

And now Laughing at Strangers (and places) for No Real Good Reason:

In Africa, there is the River Po.

It's banks are empty.

Karla Chew.

Had some disastrous chemistry with one Phil Atio.

Artist Byron Gin.

His paintings go well with comfort music, or any other tonic for the upset soul.

Artist Emily Rapport.

She has a real good... Emily with galleries.

And artist Joey Lala.

He's got his life together; everything's in tune.




>You want a letter? Fair enough. Why the hell did you send me 11 copies of

>today's limerick and slappin' and yappin'? Sheesh. :)


Eleven copies? How in the hell did that happen? Are you serious? You mean, you didn't get 12 and 13?


Visit SLOOP CENTRAL: http://home.earthlink.net/~sloop49


In July of 1999, one month before the All Limerick Slam at the 1999 National Poetry Slam festivities, I was bitten by a radioactive Leprechaun and the Daily Limerick was born. Suddenly, my path in life became clear. I was born to be a crusader for uncensored truth, justice and Limerick! Actually, I wanted to get an AUDIENCE for the Limerick Slam I'd be hosting, but I was so amazed at the lack of enthusiasm for the project that I thought I'd send a Daily Limerick indefinitely! Plus, I won the Limerick Slam accidentally and wanted to give something back to the Limerick Community! (Not too much, as there was no prize in it for me!) (And what the hell is the "Limerick Community" anyway?) I then committed to at least a year of the limericks--a milestone I've already passed a few times! At this point, I'm not entirely sure why I'm continuing this, but I have no definite plans to stop--so perhaps I'll do this for the rest of my life, if we have enough "subscribers"!

In late 2000, I added the "Slappin' and Yappin'" section of commentary to the endeavor. I've been a humor writer since...well, almost since birth, I had award-winning humor column in high school and college, I write for and interned at MAD Magazine, I've occasionally sold a column or op-ed here or there, but I've had no legitimate home for the things--hence, "Slappin' and Yappin'." Soon, the "Letters to the Idiot" section followed and, in 2002, we decided to beef-up the Sunday edition, just like the Big Boys, by adding outside contributor Mike Chmielecki's poetry with "Mike's Accursed Verse."

We'll probably keep on mutating from here!

By the way, I guarantee QUANTITY in limericks--one a day. I do not guarantee QUALITY in limericks.


If you want to be on Sloop Biederman's, e-list for comedy, sketch and/or poetic performances (in Chicago, Los Angeles, miscellaneous street corners or elsewhere), let me know!


(c)1999-2003 John "Sloop" Biederman. All Rights Reserved.


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