Daily Limerick
Archives: October 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)!


Here's a sample of the Daily Limerick FREE e-mail newsletter! (Now in it's fifth year of "service"!)

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!

You'll find a sample limerick below as well as a sample of "Slappin' and Yappin'," our commentary section, of sorts, on our nutty, copiously-corporate-sponsored world! There's also a taste of the "Letters to the Idiot" section! That's right, what began as simply a limerick service is now a full-blown... er, at least a lukewarm attempt at a blog and e-newsletter!

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.

Well, perhaps not. But in any event, you can simply reply to this e-mail and get a free limerick (and "Slappin' and Yappin'")--every day! No, you haven't died and went to heaven! And, no, you haven't died and went to hell either!

Should you not desire a succulent limerick and tender dose of Slappin' and Yappin' delivered to your e-mail box rain or shine (occasionally late, but much more reliable than the Post Office, although that's not saying much) you can simply DO NOTHING. That's right--unless you reply and simply ask for it, you won't receive more! (Although the DAILY LIMERICK is organized a bit like the Post Office, so you may accidentally receive more than one of these sample queries.)

Sign-up today! Be the first on your block to have the DAILY LIMERICK!



Paris Hilton, like her namesake town flowers

on romance (and looks good in a shower).

To complete simile

begs a visit from me

who can bring her one fine Eiffel Tower.



You all know what those nutty radio stations are dubbing this month, but DL is gonna go ahead and call it "Cocktober."

Er, on second thought, maybe I'll try selling the idea to a gay porn emporium...

"October morn... We danced until the night became a brand new day"...

Paris, Texas high school band instructor Charles Grissom is in big trouble.

It seems Grissom put together a halftime show commemorating World War II, complete with flags and anthems of the nations involved, including France, the U.S., Russia, etc.

Of course, one of the players in WWII was Nazi Germany.

Yup. He did that.

Obviously, Grissom is either stupid or he has a bizarre agenda.

I'm most perplexed that somebody would utilize a high school band to make an important, artistic point.

Perhaps he tried Hollywood first...

Marcus Fulbright was arrested for spitting on a Chicago street.

He's not the only one who's been arrested for the crime in recent years. But he (or at least his mother, as he's a minor) was the first one agitated enough to learn that the crime hasn't been on the books for six years.

So, all of the others, upon being charged with a crime that can only be described as "silly ass," just took the punishment.

I throw this out just in case any readers are still of the "most people have basic common sense" school.

In any event, the best move is always swallowing...

So, is everybody enjoying the "jobless recovery"? Really, it's worthy of celebration--perhaps with a foodless dinner...

I've finally found a (soon-to-be) organized religion I can embrace:


(Yes, I know, it's not yet Cheezy Saturday)...

Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Ken Babe.

Him and his relatives are planning a reunion in Toyland.


William Tongue.

A cunning linguist, I understand.



Ol' Jacques Chirac kissed Laura Bush

upon the hand, seeking to push

our icy two nations

back to good relations

(but perhaps, he should've kissed tush).



A ruling forcing the Washington Redskins to drop their possibly offensive team name has been overturned by a higher court. It was brought by a small group of Native Americans, with the indubitable involvement of a whole mess of guilty, white liberal types.

There are a bunch of technicalities involved but what I found most interesting was the fact that the suit was brought under a piece of legislation called the Lanham Act, which prohibits trademarks that are "disparaging, scandalous, contemptuous or disreputable."

Hold on once second... Okay.

Just checking. I am, curiously, still living in the United States of America.

Actually, here's what I found to be most-est interesting:

The team was dubbed "Redskins" as a way of honoring one of the team's legendary coaches, who happened to be Native American.

I wonder if his family is offended and, if so, whose offense is more important to rectify, in this land whereby everybody is entitled to an annoyance and offense free life...

Maharishi Mahesh Yogi claims he can enact a "spiritual force field" to protect the world from terrorism.

So, what's holding him up? $1 Billion.

Strange, but I'd call him a shyster if I didn't know he was a practitioner of an Eastern religion...

I must object to the prominent journalistic trend of identifying the likes of John Edward as "psychic."

The media can go one of two ways. Call him something more objective, like "crackpot."

Or, next time I'm cited in a newspaper story, give me the title I propose with no regard for the facts at hand: John Biederman, prominent sex machine...

I can't stand my neighbor. He's a "mo'."


Offensive, no?

Well, no. I typed "mo'," not "'mo."

The term is often used as a short for of "homo."

But I'm using it to connote "mo-ron."

Big difference. Although one can be a homosexual AND a moron.

Maybe this isn't a good idea, bandying my new term about.

So I'll just keep it in my head.



Last stalker of Jenny Love Hewitt

wanted to kill Jen--and cops knew it.

Now jailed, the job's open

I'm shoe-in, I'm hopin'--

I'm not violent; just want to "do it!"



The topic addressed in today's limerick is, believe it or not, based on a true story.

My darling Jenny Love did have a stalker who professed a desire to kill JLH because she believed the Lovester to be involved with some sinister plot to "get" her.

Keep reading for all the latest Jennifer Love Hewitt-related news...

So now women are coming out of the "I was groped" closet and singin' like canaries--all regarding Arnold Schwarzenneger's seeming partiality to fondling feminine merchandise.

What I found lacking in the coverage I've read is any mention of Ahnold's wife--when were they married and did the fondling occur during wedlock, what's she have to say about this, etc.

Perhaps it's just because I'm married myself, but my first object of vicarious worry is not the cops, not the election, not the career--but the one combination judge and jury that can truly make one's life miserable:

Jennifer Love Hewitt.

Er, of course I mean: The Wife...

Kudos (God, I hate that word--but think that's the only time I've used it) to the Chicago Sun-Times for choosing to shill Chicago Bears medallions for such a fabulous season!

All is not necessarily lost, hopeless fans actually buying these. Perhaps they'll be capable of "fooling" vending machines...

Nick at Nite, once again, further waters down the definition of "classic."

Nick will be running episodes of "Full House."

Do not, I repeat, DO NOT play some crazy game whereby you drink every time the laugh-track is instituted for the purpose of pointing out what's supposed to be funny...

Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Police officer James Fyfe.

I can't add to that.


Barbara Buzzard.

She follows The Dead.

Ugh. Why do I bother commenting on the names?...



Now Ahnold, for those keeping tabs

has suffered some scandalous jabs.

The guv recall fight

and chicks in his sights

share one thing: They're both up for grabs.



Members of a Philadelphia high school football team are in big trouble.

In "welcoming" a rookie to the team, they sought some sort of appropriate way to initiate him to the macho, manly-man world of rough and tumble football.

Taking a cue from Hazing Hall of Fame members from various fraternities, they stuck a broomstick up the rookie's butt.

All would be right in the world if, in cheerleading squad initiations, strap-on antics were the order of the day. Or am I confusing a "perfect world" with a porno scene I may have witnessed?

Come to think of it, wouldn't a "perfect world" share many traits with our good ol' friend pornography?

Before I start digressin' like a political candidate given a tangible question, let's recap:

"Manly-man" high school football players. Broomstick buggery.

Need I remind you that all is not, in fact, right with the world.



So "Who Wants to Marry My Dad?"

nets no wedding--while pent up cads

whine gay vows "disparage"

sanctity of marriage

while qui't 'bout the "Bachelor"-esque fad.



WEEI (Boston) John Dennis is in trouble.

A gorilla broke out of the zoo in Boston. A photo of said gorilla appeared in the newspaper of the gorilla at a bus stop. The bus service was called "Metco."

So Dennis made a crack that the gorilla was waiting for the Metco bus. Which would normally be deemed nothing more than "clever"--odd for a disc jockey, but otherwise "normal."

Here's the, er, "problem."

Metco is a bus line for inner-city kids. Predominantly black inner-city kids.

So, it seems, I guess... That, well... You see, Dennis, um, er... Hmmm.

Ah, the tangled webs that political correctness weaves...

Now Jesse Jackson, all up in arms last-minute because the black community is not represented in finalists for the Chicago Police Dept. superintendent position (and fewer PR points would have been gained in being concerned early-on in the multi-month process), is farming the process of finding a suitable black candidate out to a group besides his Rainbow Coalition.

Hmmm. Score the publicity but avoid the stigma of not being able to come up with a seriously-considered candidate at the last minute.

Although it has nothing to do with civil  rights, he is most certainly a genius of some sort...

Does anybody else get thrown off by those referring to baseball hitting prowess as "lumber"?

I mean, for me, the word connotes... Well, you know.

Then again, there are a lot of baseball metaphors in matters of the loins...

Sunday Story Time: The Triathlon.

I was an athlete in high school.

Which sounds more impressive than it really is.

I want to a small high school where anybody who went out for a team "made" the team. So I was in football, wrestling and track freshman year; football and wrestling sophomore year; and just football junior year. (As I became involved with a lousy metal band--how original of a high school guy!--and, well, marijuana, I slowly dropped sports from my repertoire.)

But enough about my athlete days--although, let me sneak in a not-quite-relevant mention of the fact that I did score a 70-yard touchdown in a game.

In college, I returned to athleticism for a heroic stint: The Triathalon.

This was a dorm event and it worked as follows:

Me and my dormmate were pals with another pair of dormmates; each of our dorms were on opposite ends of the floor. So, in one dorm, we drew a hit from the three foot bong; held it in and ran down the hall; blew out the hit in the other dorm; chugged a tequila shot replete with lime and salt; ran back to the first dorm and started again.

I have no trophies to show for the endeavor.

But I can say, with pride, that I was involved in college athletics.






TODAY'S POEM: She asks the quiet of her room

How many hours of insomnia

could fit on the head of a pin?

And how many of those pins

could be formed into costume jewelry?

This piece, here,

with help of time,

was given to me by distance.

This smart bracelet,

glittering like keys,

reminds me of past travels.

And this drop-locket

clasped at my throat

can never be opened.

What do you want?

It's only pins.

Grooved and smoothed

into shape.

A ghost I know

that stays and stays,

and haunts the panes,

made it for me.

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



From years spewing partisan swill

Rush Limbaugh's grown thick-skinned, yet still

critics he can handle

but this latest scandal

does prove to be a bitter pill.



On the heel's of Israel's bombing of an alleged terror camp in Syria, a Jordanian official was quoted as saying the action "could drag the whole region into a circle of violence."

My, my. The Mid East? Overcome with violence? Unimaginable!...

USA Weekend, the syndicated Sunday newspaper supplement whose qualifications for ass-wiping are even questionable, ran a cartoon yesterday, by Warren Drummond, making fun of Ah-nold's political aspirations.

In the cartoon, Ah-nold goes on to become president.

Mr. Drummond, and the "editors" at USA Weekend, all seem to have missed the fact that Ah-nold cannot become president, since he wasn't born in the U.S.

I know, I know. Expecting journalistic integrity from USA Weekend is a bit like expecting a hard-hitting interview on "Extra." But... Well, but still.

Comics can occasionally get away with factual inaccuracy--if, of course, the comic is actually funny. But that's something even I, with all my Utopian ideas, can't possibly expect from USA Weekend...

And now for a Special DL/S&Y Consumer Report:

Home Depot.

(Well, actually, there are a number of other offenders relevant to this issue, but I happened to have been recently gifted Home Depot gift certificates and the experience is fresh in my mind.)

There is a sign on the door advertising that Home Depot drug-tests its employees (for, heaven forbid, otherwise a worker might accidentally stock a toilet seat in the mailbox aisle).

The sign is, ostensibly, addressing those who might be applying for a job at Home Depot. But the placement is obviously meant to impress the majority Moron Americans. ("Hmm. Home Depot is helping to subvert the Bill of Rights thanks to a sorrowful decision from the otherwise generally intelligent Supreme Court? According to those commercials, Home Depot must thus be at the forefront of the War on Terror! Why, they deserve my business!")

It's too bad that right-thinking people tend not to get up in arms boycotting crap. But I'll try, anyway:

Boycott Home Despot, and other needlessly drug-testing establishments, as much as you can...

By the way, if any Home Despot workers happen to be on this list, stop asking if I need any help every three minutes...

Also, ever notice that the institutions that treat their employees must like chattel also dub them names likes "associate" and "team member"...

Although I regularly read through the classified ads, even when I'm not looking for a job or other "classified" things, it's rare that I find any justification for taking the time to do so.

But I recently stumbled across a validation of my silly effort: education.

Otherwise, I wouldn't know that working a schlub job at a movie theater qualifies as "entertainment industry" work...

Ponder, if you will, upon the surname, "Morehead."

Seems non-descript enough, doesn't it?

Well, it struck me the other day: That's a damn good surname for that Special Lady in your life to have. At least, if she lives up to the reputation of her forebears.

Ponder upon that for a bit now.



A man, fearin' his son'd turn sap

bought the teen a dance for his lap.

Dancer hinted "more?"--

so they shared the whore

and bridged the Generation Clap.



I keep telling myself I'm going to stop beating this topic, the decomposing topical horse that it is, but P.C. stupidity continually surfaces surrounding the unproven "secondhand smoke" scare that's taking Moron Americans by storm--and the whole smoking/anti-smoking issue, which is the broader topic I keep telling myself I'm going to avoid and, well... Okay.

Now, New York City is running a PR campaign to counteract the popular assumption that the ban on smoking in bars--you know, those strongholds of healthy living--is causing economic harm to the city and its bar/restaurant business.

One more time, Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers:

What is PR?

Everybody, "The opposite of objective journalism--in other words, bullshit!"

Very good.

Now, why does an entity usually decide a PR campaign is necessary?

C'mon, I can't hear you!

I'll give you a hint: It has something to do with bullshit...

Can we have more new & awful sitcoms throwing out "in" L.A. references left and right? Really, we need more references to specific towns in the L.A. area and such, despite the fact that most of the viewership doesn't live in L.A., because those poor humor-deprived writers need a feel-good, and if it ain't comin' from their talents, well, they need to show the nation that they're "cool," knowing all the L.A. "in" terms and such...

How come we haven't heard more about that clone?

You know, the one the Raelians told us about nearly a year ago? Remember the Raelians? Anyone?

I'm puzzled. I mean, the media wouldn't obsess over something that was a load of crap to begin with. Naw, they'd check things out a little before providing free PR to some French lunatic, right?




In summer, much fine flesh goes bare

providing good reason to stare

but fall's magic works

its own lovely perks--

there's many a nip in the air!



So, the California recall madness is over.

Until they try to recall Ah-nold.

As far as I know, anyway, "Recount Mania" has not reared its confusingly ugly head for this one.

But it's too easy to take pot shots at California over this one. Is there really any differences between acting and politics left anymore, anyway?...

Then again, Ah-nold is, well, shall we say he's not our finest thespian to begin with?...

How come I have a funny feeling that the Feds won't go after Rush Limbaugh, who's accused of actually buying drugs, in the same balls-out manner they did Tommy Chong, who was convicted of selling mere drug paraphernalia?...

I've been watching the Cubs.

And I haven't exactly been "root root rooting" for the home team.

But in seeing last night's game, with Sammy Sosa tying things up in the Ninth... Well, I've softened a bit.

After all, the players' aren't responsible for the Evil emanating from the company that owns them. And there not involved in whatever black magic has put the Cub Curse firmly in place. And they're not to blame for the drunken, drooling, baboon-like behavior I've fallen pray to in many years living on the North Side.

My new philosophy: Love the Cubbies, hate The Cubs.

Why, I almost fell into "fair-weather fandom"--which DL fully supports, as you don't hear people saying, "So the cable company screwed you over--what are you, a fair weather consumer?" although sports are a multi-million dollar industry and a sports fan is certainly a consumer of sports' "goods."

But then I remembered: I don't want the world to end...

Do sportscasters need to test at a certain score on the "Jackass Exam" in order to get hired?

I heard about a player who had a "brilliant career at third base" last night.

Which reminds me, does anybody know who won the latest Nobel Prize for Third Basemanship?... 

Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Laurie Shallow.

She's actually a spokeswoman for Taco Bell.

No pun necessary.



So Ah-nold has come out on top.

Will this role be a hit or flop?

The tit-grabbin' satyr's

still called "Terminator"--

but this role? "Kindergarten Cop."



There is a silver pair of panties on the dark cloud in the "Granola Gone Wild" California recall fiasco:

Ah-nold will not be making movies while governor...

Ever wonder if THIS is really the screwed up, parallel universe to a normal world?


DAILY LIMERICK 10/10/2003:

A porn star would not take a ream

(saved her ass for marriage, it seems).

But after some prodding

by her union hotties

she went and took one for the team.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/10/2003:

Illinois' governor, Rod Blagojevich, as part of his "school reform" vision, plans to require state high school students to complete a number of volunteer hours as a prerequisite to graduation.

And with inner-city graduation percentages sky high at around 50 percent, it's high time to make graduation even more difficult!


DAILY LIMERICK 10/11/2003:

To Homeland D, I must assert:

If Cubs make the Series, won't hurt

to beef up spy tendings

--the world could be ending!--

and raise high our terror alert!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/11/2003:

I had an interesting TV watching experience this week in which I heard an "alternative" song at two different junctures:

One, in a commercial for an "alternative" radio station.

Two, in a car commercial.

I think the radio station one was important as I way of letting us know that it is, in fact, an "alternative" song...

Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Elaine Pizza.

There's no topping her.

Er, wait a minute. Feel free to top her!



A man from the equator named Steve

had not lived autumn's heat reprive.

One October, in Philly

shook a hot-ass babe silly--

said was tryin' to shake off her "leaves."


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/12/2003:

Since this is DL's fifth year of "service"--it will be our fifth anniversary in July 2004, for readers not so quick on the draw--it's appropriate that I ask you to start sending in stories of "Daily Limerick moments."

You know, touching anecdotes about how Slappin' and Yappin' pulled you through a tough time in life, emotional tales of meeting your future spouse over coffee and a limerick, tear-jerking memories of... Oh, hell, maybe just a letter about how DL helped you barf up some bad salmon, for Elvis' sake...

After an unfortunate partial viewing of "Elimidate" the other night, I've figured it out: "Reality TV" is just porn--without the sex.

Pathetic or non-existent plotlines, the anticipation of sex about to go down, C-grade acting (and it IS acting--these people have become so damn fake that they don't remember who they really were at some point)... It's all there!

Except the sex!

If you're don't want to view some hard-core sex action, there's no reason to watch porn.

So this presents the obvious question, regarding "reality" TV... Oh, fuck it.

Which presents another obvious question: Was there ever really hope for humanity at some point?...

Thanks to "Friends," wannabe "hip" sitcoms now use "rockin'" segways between scenes.

Car commercials and, for that matter, commercials of all sorts, have become "rockin'."

Politicians pick "rockin'" tunes (usually misinterpreted into fitting their agendas) for their theme songs.

Some things should not be "rockin'." But since everything's already "rockin'," I guess I mean that should things SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN "rockin'."

In fact, rockin' is no longer rockin'; in fact, rockin' can only now aspire to "rockin'."

So perhaps it IS now hip to be square. Or perhaps not, because now it's a little square to be hip and, this is getting ridiculous, but don't even get me started on "tubular"...


Why, out of all the messages that Mega Stores like Wal-Mart could choose to relay in multi-million-dollar TV commercial campaigns, do they settle upon showing that their employees are happy?

Why would anybody think that union-blasting, drug-testing, a'feared-of-offendin'-religious-nuts Wal-Mart would be anything other than delightful toward its employees?...

Backyard wrestling.

It exists.

Young people play "pro" wrestling, and often videotape it, across the nation, enacting the stunts for real and in fact pulling even more gruesome and painful "moves" that their TV counterparts.

Please. Nobody tell them that "pro" wrestling is faked. Evolution is still working its magic...

Why have I never seen chocolate pistachios? There's no excuse for their absence.

We can put a muscle-brained, sub-B-Grade actor in the California state house, but...

Sunday Story Time: Once Upon a Time.

Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess.

And there was also a handsome prince.

The two never met until the eve of both of their arranged marriages. Both quickly learned that the other was not keen on their pending nuptials.

But the handsome prince was not too fond of the beautiful princess. He instead ran off with a knight.

And the beautiful princess never married, went into broadcasting and ended up on "The View."







TODAY'S POEM: You and the light

The curtains trap the light.

At this late hour they seem to glow.

They remind me of my lack of mind,

as the clock slowly flips through its digits.

The first moment the bulb is off,

the walls seem to push in.

Only after a few moments, lying back in bed,

do they resume their true perimeter.

At this hour,

when the light is trapped in the curtains,

when the clock seems to say

"fuck you,"

when all the books

read and unread on my shelf

are weightless --

and weigh the darkness ...

I realize

how much I want to be with you.

And how I wish,

when I draw back the curtains,

that the light would stay there.

That the light

is you.

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


DAILY LIMERICK 10/13/2003:

If you think that "real life" is outclassed

by that 'neath the "Entertainment" mast

you can bitch moan and grouse--

but Nick re-runs "Full House"--

as all repeat mistakes of the past.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/13/2003:

The Chicago Marathon took place yesterday and, like any other marathon, it was painstakingly, almost-Segway-level dumb.

If the boredom level of watching a 50-yard dash is a minnow, the boredom level of watching a marathon is a sperm whale.

Why in the screamin' hell is anybody, other than the first guy who did it (who had the bonus of being able to say, "hey--I ran 26 miles!"), running 26 miles? Make that 26.2 miles?

Every year, somebody keels over in attempting to run the distance. So I would give more credit to those "in shape" except for the fact that pinnacles of human fitness, ala James Fix, have keeled over running long distances, so if you're going to embark on a dangerous sporting event, at least die in the throes of excitement, hang gliding or something, rather than during the utterly miserable action of running 26 freakin' miles.

Some people reportedly LIKE running these distances.

If that's their idea of fun, well, I say, have at it. But I'm not comin' to any of your parties...

From a press release for a college cultural event:

"Sound Art: Just Don't Call it Music."

Now I thought that music was... Er, couldn't you say that... Well... Ahem.

Anyhoo, back to the release's question.

You guys don't have to worry about that.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/14/2003:

If voters feel they are not pleased

they recall the guy in Cali.

Since we're giving passes

to the fickle masses

can we recall celebrities?


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/14/2003:

This is one of those rare days where I open my notebook seeking hare-brained little notes on S&Y ideas and... I have nothing new.

But I can mention that the entire staff of Mike's Accursed Verse is due in town soon and, at some point, t(he)y will be meeting with the entire staff of DL, S&Y and LTTI. The purpose of the meeting? Well, it's... Um, a secret. Yes. Just expect better and better things to come!

Fitting, for our fifth year of service, that 2003 will have not one but TWO meetings of the, er, for-lack-of-a-better-term-"minds."

I do not know if colons will be cockled this time.

But a man can dream, can't he?


DAILY LIMERICK 10/15/2003:

Through one night stand, chick went for bloke

but thinks a Cubs fan was her bloke.

In love's crucial game--

right before she came--

he stopped his momentum--and choked.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/15/2003:

It's interesting that folks around Chicago, and indeed world-wide, are blaming "The Fan Who Touched the Ball" for the Cubs' loss to the Marlins last night.

(For those who don't know, a fan reached down from the bleachers and touched a ball that was hit into left field, probably ruining the Cubs' outfielder's chance of catching it and netting the 2nd out of the inning. The Marlins went on to score eight runs, where four would have sufficed to win the game.)

Don't blame the fan, folks. He's only one small part of a monstrous Curse...

Speaking of finding fault, the Cubs ought to start a "Hall of Blame," where museum goers can check out all the paraphernalia and history surrounding all of the World Series the Cubs have failed to reach in the last century or so...

AOL is coming out with a cheaper version of its service.

So... Will your server connection fail three times every five minutes, instead of the normal one time every five minutes?


DAILY LIMERICK 10/16/2003:

Right now, all things seem touched with drear.

The reason? Won't say, but it's clear--

sore point of discussion,

so I won't say much'n.

Just four words: There's always next year.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/16/2003:

You probably know that the DL Office is in Chicago and, thus, what the major story should be, as a Chicago-based publication.

But I'm going to let it lie right now. Although I will say that, despite the downer feel permeating the air, I feel strangely content at the same time, as if waking up from a bizarre dream to realize that everything is in fact right with the universe...

FDA advisors today decided to go ahead and give an "okay" to the sales of silicon breast implants, despite some reservations about the problems associated with them.

The ruling was not law, but such decisions are usually followed legally.

The Feds are, however, recommending certain regulations. Namely that those who sell or insert breast implants must track down and monitor the health and hold-up of each pair of this curiously non-bouncing objects somewhat similar to the breast so many men know and love. (I'm not sure if this duty falls to the doctor or the manufacturer.)

So, you put a ball of plastic into your body for no other reason than a poor self image--duh, who would think they might not be the healthiest option--and it is SOMEBODY ELSE'S duty to look after your health after making such a whacked-out (but frighteningly acceptable) deed.

The first front on the War on Terror is, evidently, protecting us from ourselves.

One word: Doom.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/17/2003:

Box cutters are back in the news,

found in two Southwest Airlines loos.

A strange screening quirk--

they were hard at work

inspecting all old ladies' shoes.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/17/2003:

One of the many tragedies of the whole California Recall Show has been ignored by the media:

In knocking Cruz Bustamonte out of the news, we've lost our best shot at filling the void in VIPs with silly names that's existed since Boutros-Boutros Ghali stepped down from the U.N...

He ought to go into boxing, by the way, if only for the fact that his name would sound good souped-up by announcers...

Illinois has finally gotten serious about filling its poet laureate position that has been empty since Gwendolyn Brooks' death.

The finalists are all academicians. There are no performance poets among them; there are no rhyming poets in the bunch.

Sometimes, a void doesn't need filling, when everything is considered.



> Hey, this isn't an e-mail from the little red-haired girl.



> Rats.


How do YOU know it isn't from the little red-haired girl? How do you know, given that DL is a gargantuan media conglomerate, with all sorts of departments and employees, that the person who pushed the button to ultimately send yesterday's edition wasn't the little red-haired girl that you refer to? For that matter, how do you know that the little red-haired girl isn't an intern here, smitten (and who can blame her?) with the Chief Limericist? How do you know that, with a little help from the copious spirits involved in The Great Colon Cockling of 2003 II, I didn't spread the little red-haired girl like a jar of Smuckers and impale her upon my fleshy harpoon as Ahab only dreamed of doing to the Great White Whale?

And since we have the adult Charlie B. checking in... What baseball team did you end up getting involved with? The Cubs or Red Sox?


DAILY LIMERICK 10/18/2003:

A porn king auditioned new skin

and a fine ass Thai slut walked in.

Before she could flirt

he ripped off her shirt

and checked out her Siamese twins.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/18/2003:

Now don't go thinkin' I'm into all that psychic mumbo-jumbo or anything, especially since I recently revealed a belief in a certain "Curse"--but only THAT particular curse, I must add--but recent events can only lead me to believe that I have a certain mental power to control events around me.

It only concerns the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA), which runs all of the buses and trains in the City of Chicago--or, it is at least limited to this realm at this point, as my understanding of these powers is still in the seminal stages. I, as of yet, have not figured out how to use my powers for good. In fact, I know very little about these newfound powers, except, well... As an example, take an experience this week. It is a fine example of the only type of control I've figured out so far.

I awoke one morning right when the alarm went off. (Usually I, like most, nail the snooze once or twice and then regret the frantic state of my getting-ready-to-go process.) What's more, I didn't use the "extra" time for any sort of dilly-dallying. I left the house on track to actually be at my place of work EARLY!

Little did I know that the mere act of my readying early exuded a mysterious form of control over the CTA, or at least my particular bus line:

I waited half an hour for the bus (normally, it's less than a five-minute wait). And realized... Hey! Last time I got going early, I waited about a half hour for a train. Actually, the time before that I... Hmmm.

Don't mess with me, folks. I'll get ready early, head to your train or bus, and make you late!

It's only one step toward my goal of becoming a card-carrying Super Villain.



A man sat down for masturbatin'

pondered which porn fit the occasion.

Of fetish, or not?

Boy-girl, twot-on-twot?

And picked a whack-off degustation.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/19/2003:

Cubs manager Dusty Baker has spent all year poo-pooing the idea of the Cubs having a curse.

So... Whaddaya think of the curse now Dusty?...

This, by the way, is the first (and probably last) All Cubs Edition of Daily Limerick. And, for the Cubs fans who may not have liked certain things I've said in this space before, before closing this e-mail, realize that what follows is not all negative...

I keep hearing about how the Cubs are so attractive because they're "Loveable Losers."

I'm not sure about that. I mean, are they really... Loveable?...

I have a prediction as to how the Cubs will fare next year:

They won't make the playoffs.

You see the Tribune Company, which owns these Loveable Losers, has a great thing going:

Occasionally make the playoffs, have one really good player (at least) who's a crowd draw (this has been Corky Sosa for a while, but now, I'll admit, they have quite a few)--and the fans will fill the stadium every game anyway, so they can pinch-pennies and not worry about how good the team is!

They just had a banner year, so this is good for a decade or, hell, they actually won a playoff series! The Trib folks don't have to worry about fielding a good team for 20, 30, 50 years!...

It's the Sininster Tribune Corporate angle that's at the heart of my beef with the Loveable Losers...

An Open Letter to the Tribune Company--

Dear Tribune Company:

You know and I know that things like "curses" are highly questionable.

There is a scientific explanation for everything (whether the answers are readily apparent or not), and if there really were "psychics" they'd be in regular rotation for law enforcement, sports, financial companies... I need not explain further; I think you know the spiel.

But your baseball team, the Chicago Cubs, seem to be a different manner.

I'm a skeptic, a free-thinker, a de-bunker of superstitions, a logical-thinking guy, but... The only explanation I have for the Cubs is that they're Cursed. And I have a way for lifting the Curse.

Do I think we need to recruit the foremost "experts" in the occult? Involve the goat? No. But there is something you might try.

Let's be honest: The Constitution and all its interpretations are far less important to you than the almighty dollar. I mean, do you really think that loosening FCC laws on media conglomerates is a good thing? Come on! I'm on to you, as is anybody that pays a modicum of attention to the news.

I have other issues with your company, but that's a start. So here's what you do:

Come out and publicly admit that you've made a mistake in lobbying the FCC to lead you on the Path to Monopoly. Beginning lobbying with just as much time and money to change the FCC laws so that conglomerates can own fewer stations, newspapers, etc.

(C'mon! I have a TV. Need I go into the monumental crisis in diversity of viewpoints and entertainment available today?)

It's time to take a different path to removing this Curse. This is the only action that may remove it.

Do this, and I'll change my ways: Stop Cub-bashing and become the Greatest Cub Fan of All Time.

I know you'd never print this in a million years, but, there you have it...

Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good (and Yet Cub-Related) Reason:

Chris Curse.

Sign 'em up, Trib!...

Sunday Story Time: Sloop & Mike's Less-Than-Awesome Adventure--Aw, What the Hell, Call it Like it is--Pathetic Adventure.

The CEO (he he) of Accursed Verse was in town recently for a continuation of the Great Colon Cockling of 2003--a meeting of the "minds" behind DL.

I do not think that actual "colon cockling" occurred (but I'd have to check with Mr. AV about the Morning After to be sure), but we met up for an evening, I treated him to Chicago style stuffed pizza, we walked around the area, etc.

We decided to walk up by Wrigley Field. We didn't want to get into the thick of things, just witness the Historic Hubbub inherent in the Cubs playoff series.

This was Wednesday and, thus, Game Seven.

Mike is from New Hampshire and, thus, a Boston Red Sox fan. So there we were, two members of Cursed fan bases, musing about the state of our respective teams and wallowing in the optimistic madness.

Through this day, and the whole process, I developed a greater understanding of Cubs fandom. And it struck me:

Cubs fans are like Charlie Brown.

They have faith. They root, they hope, against all odds, against all curses.

I have to admire that.

An epiphany!...

(This doesn't, of course, alter my prediction for next season--and the next, and the next...--or my hatred of the Tribune Company, or my typical fun-poking at Cubs fans...)

But there you have it.

There's always next year.






TODAY'S POEM: Beachcombing

Is love

a drugged permutation

of hate?

An easy calm


ocean silence?

Once the stillness

is disrupted,

faces wavered,

do love and hate

truly share

a mingled length?

Glass-lined bay,

let's not get too

far down the shore.

Sometimes I wonder

why the fragments

come in lightly.

Soft as ribbons,

shamed as words

finding sleep.

Are we but shells --

twin polished bones --

upon this beach?

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


DAILY LIMERICK 10/20/2003:

A pick-up line, for all you satyrs

and nymphs who're hopeless masturbators:

"My name is [give it!]--

take note, don't forget

for you will be screaming it later."


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/20/2003:

The NFL has fined the Baltimore Ravens' Chris McAlister for "taunting" an opposing team during a touchdown run.

You read right. Not physically harming anybody in any way. Not dropping his pants. TAUNTING them.

Isn't football supposed to be an especially "manly" realm?

The Disneyfication of our world knows no bounds...

So, you thought Ah-nold governing California was on the cusp of a frightening trend?

Pat O'Brien is running for governor of South Dakota.

Okay, South Dakota has a tiny population but... Who?

That's what I said, until I read the adjectival phrase: "Pat O'Brien, host of 'Access Hollywood.'"

At least you can argue that Ah-nold has had a few good movies.

"Access Hollywood" is one glorified, drawn-out pair of lips kissing the ass of anyone and everyone in entertainment.

And it probably has a pretty good chance to win, as it's not who you know, but who you blow. And "Access Hollywood," at least figuratively, blows pretty much everyone...

Glancing across the TV grid in today's newspaper, I see that Spike TV is showing "Star Trek."

Wait... No, it's "Spike TV," not some previously unheard of "Geek TV"...

Did you know that one of the warnings placed on video games reads, "Comic Violence"?

Stick and stones may break my bones--but at least an anvil is funny!...

A reader wrote in to Roger Ebert's Sunday column asking a question via limerick.

Ebert answered via limerick as well.

Something tells me that, no matter how big this gets, I'm not gonna get any credit for it.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/21/2003:

A Filipina, name of Kim

had a rather foul, nasty quim.

Was otherwise hot

so guys skipped her twot

and went for the Pacific Rim.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/21/2003:

A Gallup poll finds that 65 percent of respondents think that Ah-nold represents "a new approach to politics."

I suppose that's one way to put it...

Ronald and Fazila Verni's young daughter was hit by a drunken driver, leaving the poor girl paralyzed.

So, they're suing the NFL.

No, every player, coach and exec from the NFL did not happen to be sharing the driving duties of the car that hit the girl. The drunken driver was returning home from an N.Y. Giants game and it seems the Vernis (undoubtedly with the aid of an, er, "creative" attorney) blame the NFL's "alcohol culture."

This is but the latest development in a trend that began long ago--although it has accelerated lately. Individual responsibility, it seems, is Sooo last century...

"Yes, Dear," the sitcom (for lack of a better word, considering the "com" stands for "comedy"), is doing one of those old-fashioned, TV-show-mixing promotions in which, somehow, the cast of "Big Brother" is involved.

Perhaps I've been a bit like the "Boy Who Cried Wolf" with my labeling certain events as "horsemen of the coming cultural apocalypse," but if this doesn't fit the bill...


DAILY LIMERICK 10/22/2003:

I know that you've heard all the rants:

Pick-up lines are not you're best chance.

Yet did they employ:

"You wash clothes in Joy?--

For I see myself in your pants!"


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/22/2003:

I need to come up with a good Halloween costume idea.

It seems that every year, I say I'm going to go out of my way to find a costume party and really "do it up" for the dark holiday. But (and lay off the weed if you didn't see this comin') I never do. I don't have much in the way of excuses, although Halloween has been a common moving-in/moving-out day for me. Nonetheless, I often cheeze it up even without that excuse.

I actually threw a Halloween party in college, with the dangerously-all-around-campus-posted flyers extolling "costumes mandatory"--and neglected to plan a costume myself. And the last time I found myself at a Halloween costume party, I threw on a Charlie Brown shirt last-minute.

But for this year, I'm not moving and have a costume party to attend. So I'm soliciting you schmucks for ideas. Oh, and, ideally, it'll be a "couple" costume idea, which is what The Wife prefers.

Funny how I've had trouble with costumes, but no trouble disguising the lack of S&Y ideas as a "Halloween slice of life"...


DAILY LIMERICK 10/23/2003:

I happen to have a she-doctor

a modern guy, I've never knocked her--

at least, not her skills;

her job's been fulfilled,

but, as she's hot, I've never cocked her.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/23/2003:

I actually saw my she-doctor today and... Well, let's just say I'm saving some things for Sunday Story Time...

Heard of the board game Ghettopoly?

If not, well, just go ahead and think for a second, it doesn't require much imagination to figure it out.

Got it? Okay. Well, Hasbro is suing them. (PS--for your Daily Fright, realize that my spellchecker automatically capitalizes "Hasbro.")

They're arguing that the game hurts the company's image. Their lawyers apparently figure that the average Joe is just as sense-of-humor deficient as they are...

And some numbskulls are suing the makers of Grand Theft Auto for the shooting death of their child.

And yet, tort reform is, once again, not at the forefront of the 2004 presidential campaign...

Saw a profile of Gwyneth Paltrow today in my newspaper and learned her view on fame: "It's not what I signed up for."

Silly, silly me. There I was, complaining about debts and a job I'm not too fond of, desperately needing that periodic reminder that there are people with REAL problems out there...

Saw a tabloid headline in the grocery story: "Sigfried and Roy's Secret Life."

The subhead teased some of the info within: "The Gay Marriage, the Jealousy..." But the smart headline writer left us no clues to guess the "secrets" inside...

There will be stories about the Cubs' playoff choke for some time. Those of us in Chicago are adjusting to this.

And a trend continues that began during the playoff run: The Chicago Sun-Times continually quotes fans hanging out at Finn McCool's.

Finn McCool's is a bar in the part of town that most residents never set foot in. A suburbanite and tourist haven. Why, it might as well merge with a Chili's.

This would make sense for reporters from McPaper (USA Today) or the New York Times, but...

George Will lead off his column today with a brief poem.

I'm startin' to feel a bit like one of those starving R&B guys who once met Elvis before, well, you know...

A company called Crowd Management Strategies is holding a seminar for Chicago club owners. The purpose, from what I can gather, is to teach them how not to lock exit doors and mace the shit out of rioting patrons.

You know, this recovery of ours is still "jobless" but, somehow, we're coming up with the money to keep "crowd management" professionals in business...

Which reminds me: Why the hell does such a thing as a "career coach" exist?

Is this what happens when those oh-so-helpful high school counselors feel like spreading their wings?...

Ya' know how there's a line in Nancy Sinatra's "These Boots are Made for Walkin'" that goes "one of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you"?

Well, I just thought today: Some guys would like that.

We make the judgments here at DL/S&Y that other media are afraid to make.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/24/2003:

I man was s'pposed to write a limerick

for a daily e-thing by him-rick.

He procrastinated

(perhaps masturbated)

and sent off this piece-off-shit gimrick.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/24/2003:

Wal-Mart has been busted in a major investigation uncovering illegal, undocumented foreign workers.

The All-American, price-fixing, union-busting Wal-Mart?

Will we see some of these illegals in the next commercial trumpeting the happiness level of its workers? Or will they instead focus on the ones who fear for their very jobs for not throwing on the smile for the camera and saying how "happy" they are?...

Kobe Bryant received a standing ovation for his, er, um, "triumphant" return to the Los Angeles Lakers' season.

Oh, don't be all celebrity bitter about it. I'm sure you or I would get the same treatment at our place of employment on a reprieve for a sexual assault trial...

The FDA is considering a proposal to force restaurants to list the caloric content of all dishes on their menu. Because Americans are fat, I guess, and somehow government should be doing something about this, as long as they're doing so well returning jobs to the American public and keeping box cutters off airlines--like Southwest, for instance.

Here's a hint, folks: Salad section? Low calorie. Honkin' burgers and three-egg omelettes? High calorie...

Kirk Jones has been charged with "mischief."

Not even "criminal mischief." Plain ol' mischief is evidently a crime. So think twice about stuffing your hand in that cookie jar.

Jones went over Niagara Falls recently, you may have heard. Without a barrel.

I think that anybody who goes over Niagara Falls should be rewarded with some sort of medal. They deserve it if they survived and, if they didn't, well, isn't the world a slightly better place minus someone with the intelligence to go over Niagara Falls?...

John Allen Mohammed, the sniper lunatic, fired his lawyers and became his own attorney this week.

In a couple of days, he decided against that idea and fired himself as lawyer.

I think the State of California should send him an honorary voter registration.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/25/2003:

The young royals feel they've been burned

by Di's butler's gossipy turn.

Now what kind of jerk

twists fate to shun work

and rake in big money unearned?


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/25/2003:

There were some restaurant flyers rubberbanded to the doorknob at my building's entrance this morning.

I noted that the restaurant is, "B.O.Y.B."

Which is an interesting restaurant philosophy I had not previously known of.

It could only mean one thing, as far as I can tell: "Break Out Your Boobs."

My home, potential visitors should note, is "B.O.Y.B."

Hell, consider me a traveling "B.O.Y.B." restaurant! In fact, "B.O.Y.B." behavior will earn you a meal for free! If you're walking down the street and, well, "B.O.Y.B." in plain view of yours truly, I'll make you a sandwich. And depending on the status of the Second B, perhaps I'll make you a wok-full of Kung Pao chicken or something.

(By the way, is "Kung Pao" supposed to be capitalized?)

Which reminds me, Destiny's Child is still welcome for dinner. Any time.



The Marlins gave New York the spank;

the Nation, if I may be frank

despite all that's happened

feels the urge for clappin'

and tellin' New York to go Yank.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/26/2003:

Geez. I hope the Pentagon has hired some extra accounting folks, or at least established a few trust funds, to handle all the international money coming in as Iraq rebuilding donations...

The Onion published an actual news story in its latest edition.

The cover story, "Muscleman Put in Charge of World's Fifth-Largest Economy," relates a bizarre, typically Onion tale of how a knuckleheaded bodybuilder won the California gubernatorial election.

In case you've been living in some other century--involved with fundamentalist Catholicism or Islam, for instance--this Onion story actually occurred.

I think that was the point.

Of course, the Onion publishes a load of stories that COULD have happened ("Used Book Store Owner Rises From Chair," for example) and others that have happened or are happening but, well, would never be presented the same way in a mainstream media source (ala "CIA-Leak Scapegoat Still at Large," in this week's issue as well). But this is the first one that might have appeared in any ol' mainstream pub. Okay, the "muscleman" part in the headline is a stretch (they'd refer to him as an "actor" these days), but otherwise it's pretty much a mainstream piece.

Which all begs the question I'm fond of asking: Will we reach a point where parody is impossible?...

We've entered an age where the term "Fitness Celebrity" exists.

That's enough to send me quivering with fear...

There's a film called "Disease of the Wind" playing for the Chicago International Children's Film Festial. It's a documentary following Jane Seymour that... Well, that doesn't concern us.

What does is the fact that I read about a cocktail reception for the festival's benefit.


Again, this is a children's film fest.


Some vices pass muster with the Political Correctness Police; some don't...

Speaking of festivals, the Chicago Humanities Festival is again in town!

And, once again, I don't know what the hell it's supposed to be focusing on.

Perhaps they should help end the confusion and re-name it, "The Chicago Who-Knows-What-the-Hell-This-is-About-but-Let's-Collect-a-Bunch-of-Grants-and-Spend-Them-All-on-an-Event-Benefitting-About-.03 Percent-of-the-Population Festival!"...

Here's a sample from this whatever-the-hell-it-is festival's events:

"The Structure and Path of Eudora Welty's "A Worn Path."

Oh, great. Another event to serve as a magnet for all the drunken, crazed party animals from the suburbs and beyond...

Sunday Story Time: Babes of the Medical Profession

(Sorry, but this is not some sort of Playboy pictorial, but feel free to picture whatever you like on your mind's wide-screen TV--I am.)

Earlier in the week, I wrote about a doctor's appointment, and the fact that my doctor happens to be female. And the second fact wouldn't matter so much except for the third one--she's also kinda hot, especially when she wears the near-thigh-high boots. (Take that, Sunday-only readers). Which reminds me--my yearly visit to her happens to occur in the fall, which is better than winter, but I really should fake an illness in the summer to check out the strappy sandal/belly shirt scene, although that may be wishful thinking but, then again, so is 99 percent of what goes on in my head so, there you have it.

Anyway, there is one setback to the hot medical professional with you as a client, when you're a guy at least--yup, your lil' Elvis. When she goes feeling around the glands above the public area... Well, let's just say there's often the potential of a rather embarrassing stand being taken.

One time, when I was a child, I had to get naked for a nurse who was... Well, hot. And up came the feller.

It must happen all the time, for she barely flinched. (At least, I tell myself that's why she barely flinched.)

Anyway, considering the current state of my relations with the hot babe medical profession... I wish she'd increase the territory she covers.

I never thought I'd hope for the doctor to make me "cough."






TODAY'S POEM: Cinderless

I'll burn the sky black,

just for you to see

the colored, paling leaves

cupped into the breeze.

Spindly stem-light hold

letting go.

Skirting to the water,

a dappled leafy puddle.

Trembled, windless sails

without want of ships --

threaded droplet ships

without need of sails.

I'll burn the sky black,

roiling clouds of blotted light,

so in the darkness you will find

the gentle swimming of their sway.

Slowly growing cold,

losing all their gold.

Taste my lips, cinderless,

and brush the afterglow away.

The final colors that we see

before it fades.

That is why abstract is new.

That is why one word is but

one word said, without restraint,

Feel the fire

threading in.

without the truth -- the sadness

of our mouths' sealed shape.

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



>B Y O B    Bring Your Own Balls.

Although the question posed in S&Y was the meaning of "B.O.Y.B," this is an interesting take on the more common, "B.Y.O.B."

We need more places like this. I'm sick and tired of borrowing somebody else's testes at restaurants.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/27/2003:

No good rabbi, imam or priest

has brought peace unto the Mid East.

But here comes Brad Pitt

with Jen, say'n' "Hey twits!

Check out MY 'Road Map's' kick-ass piece!"


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/27/2003:

In her upcoming movie, Meg Ryan does a nude scene.

Now that you've done it, Meg, and it wasn't so bad, you have a way to get guys out to those otherwise insufferable chick flicks...

My wife has brought it to my attention that somebody keeps playing the new Britney/Madonna song over, and over, and over again.

This provides some clues as to who the neighbor in question is (as I haven't met many of my neighbors at this point). Either he's gay or somebody left a 12-year-old girl home with the stereo unlocked...

My Sunday daily newspaper came complete with Taco Bell coupons.

Coupons? For Taco Bell? Where you can get something like 100 tacos for $3?

Is this an outreach campaign to the homeless or something?...

Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Elizabeth Lump.

She just kinda sits there.


Mary Rockoff.

If you've been rockin' ON too much, see her.

Edward J. Rumps.

I hear his daughter's a card-carrying piece of ass.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/28/2003:

At a huge Halloween masquerade

lucky fellow did boink four French maids.

'Twas a workplace event

from then his hours were spent

tryin' to figure out just who he laid.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/28/2003:

Last night, I overheard a local news plug mentioning a "possible Al-Qaida connection to the Southern California wildfires."

I read or heard nothing more about this. Local TV news, it seems... Well, read-on, as there is a discussion of "relevance" later.

I did have the "pleasure" of hearing the actual story, if you can call it a story. It was more like a sentence tossed in to a greater report on the wildfires: "alleged Al-Qaida operatives at Guantanamo Bay claimed that the terrorist group was considering setting wildfires in Western states, primarily Colorado, Montana, Utah and Wyoming."

Which means that our brilliant enemy is targeting some of the least-populated Western states. Perhaps indicating a kinder, gentler terrorism...

Alex Halderman is a 22-year-old who managed to figure out that by simply holding down the "shift" key, one could bypass the compact disc security featured used by Music Mega Merger Monster BMG to prevent piracy. Halderman put this information on his own Web site.

The system was expected to become an industry model and was designed, which much effort and monies (excepting any attempts to hold down that elusive "shift" key), by a company with a boring name and headed by CEO Peter Jacobs.

So, how did Jacobs react? A reward and/or job for Halderman to commend his pointing out a crucial flaw in the program and thus helping Jacobs' company to more fully satisfy its clients?

No, this is Corporate America.

That's right. He spearheaded an effort to have Halderman prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

Strangely enough, in the ensuing PR war (fought 99.9 percent only by Jacobs), Halderman has come out as the good guy.

Nonetheless, this is a prime example of the way Corporate America thinks, acts and works, for anybody thinking we're not heading for a Great Depression II...

Got a recorded message/phone call from ComCast cable today, warning us that our service might be disturbed due to cable work in the area.

Now, I don't want to replay the whole ordeal, but a month or two back, I related in this space my Consumer Report on ComCast (Cliff Notes version: Don't give the evil, incompetent bastards your money), consisting mostly of my personal story of how Comcast blew us off so many times for installation that we went with another service, RCN, that happens to have fewer channels available.

Want good customer service from ComCast? End your customer relationship.

Once the fish is on the hook, the attractiveness of the worm no longer matters...

Yay! Michael Jackson's musical response to 911 has been (or will soon be) released!

Poor guy missed the three minutes in which irony was dead.

For anybody wondering if he's still pop-culturally relevant, outside of freak-show, newsmagazine pieces...

Speaking of relevant, I guess this was a "We Are the World"-sized project and one of the singer/participants was Ricky Martin, for whom nobody is questioning his pop-cultural relevance...

I read a story about some So Cal beach banning smoking today, replete with a quote from some chump about how "smoke travels."

And you thought "Reefer Madness" was a curious, paranoid example of an age gone by?


DAILY LIMERICK 10/29/2003:

If your lustful urges you're sating

o'er nubile young ladies parading

in Halloween trappings--

with lower bod slappings--

you could say that you're "Masquer-bating."


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/29/2003:

The Kaiser Family Foundation, in partnership with the Children's Digital Media Center, has released the results of a fascinating study finding that the amount of TV a child watches is inversely proportional to the child's reading level.

This is for the benefit of the same parents who learn something from PSAs urging them to talk to their children...

Mohamedraza Huss Bhimani, of Chicago's suburbs, is the latest in a long line of dentists accused of fondling multiple patients.

Without the patient's approval, that is.

Which brings me to some religious stereotyping.

Look at the guy's name.

At least most Catholics are hypocritical toward their ridiculous campaign of sexual repression...

Speaking of religious dogma, let's visit a tale of Political Correctism:

The C.G. Jung Institute of Chicago has piped-up in response to the last spring's media-frenzy-inducing hazing, powder-puff football fiasco in the Chicago 'burbs.

According to the Jungers, incidents like this occur because our society lacks a sufficient ritual for the rite of passage into adulthood. They go even further, explaining that other youthful acts of rebellion stem from the same problem, including gang membership and rowdy parties.

The quest to completely eliminate individual responsibility is right on track...

I read a story today about how, increasingly, children are being named for products.

Some especially egregious examples include "Ikea" and "Lexus."

The quest to make society so ridiculous it's parody-proof is proceeding right on track as well...

I think "discareful" should be a recognized word.

Sometimes, I'm careful. Sometimes I'm careLESS. But sometimes, I'm not exercising due care, but I am exercising SOME care, and, well, nobody can say that S&Y avoids the tough issues...

Earlier this month, I indicated a desire to start my own religion, Goudaism, in which cheeze plays a central role.

Since then, however, the legions of wide-eyed, out-of-their-mind, deeply troubled hot, young, nubile women willing to submit themselves to sexual slavery at the hands (and more!) of the High Priest of Goudaism... Well, they haven't actually arrived in legions. Their numbers are better described as... Well, none.

So I'm changing my tune. L. Ron Hubbard, eat your heart out!

Witness the arrival of the New Millennium's most influential religion: Bootyism.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/30/2003:

Halloween and an Indian Summer

do concur--so make sure it's no bummer.

Find a girl dressed as squaw--

real role play'r, lacking flaw--

and get yourself an Indian Hummer.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/30/2003:

A group in suburban Chicago is claiming to be the "first to recreate" (???) the Wright brothers' historic flight.

So, will I get media attention when I recreate the invention of fire in my fireplace this weekend?...

Illinois state senator John Fritchey is proposing legislation to squelch future personal-responsibility-passing lawsuits against fast food.

You see, suburban Chicago is home to McDonald's.

I'm all for this... But the problem goes far beyond the realm of obesity and companies selling foodstuffs.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: We were too busy whacking off with glee at the tobacco lawsuits to heed warnings that, inevitably, retarded legal logic would apply to something that wasn't dubbed The Satan of the new religion known as Political Correctism.

And it won't stop until you're prosecuted for "second-hand high blood pressure" for salting your child's fries. And probably not even then...

Does anybody out there find the new McDonald's jingle even remotely catchy?...

Laughing at Strangers for No Real Good Reason:

Defense Attorney Peter Johnson.

What a dick.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/31/2003:

A man, tired of beatin' his meat

went trick-or-treating down his street

in the red-light district

no sweets; whisker biscuit!

(Turned out that the trick WAS the treat!)


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/31/2003:


(Sorry if I frightened you there, but it IS Halloween)...

I opened my daily newspaper today to find that the nation's economic downturn is over!

If that doesn't cheer up the legions of unemployed, I don't know what will...

Headline in today's Chicago Sun-Times (well, actually a deck):

"Study Finds Firms with Iraq Deals were Major Bush Donors."

Who says the media isn't engaging in the hard-hitting investigative reports of yesteryear?...

(And, by the way, I'd reward anybody donating me Bush, too)...

Kathy Griffin and Kelly Clarkson:

Pioneers in the field of professional talk show guesting!...

In the basement of my condo building, there are storage facilities, washing machines and roaches.

And we've all been warned that homeless people have been sleeping down there.

Not sure how this happened. There are locks on all the doors leading to the area. But that's neither here nor there.

When leaving the house today, some joker asked if I was just sleeping downstairs.

Now, I know that I'm dressed a tad grungy today, as I'd originally planned to do laundry and, as everybody knows, or should know, you wear something you're not gonna need washed for the week when you do laundry, but... Let's just say it wasn't quite a feel-good moment...

Had I been dressed in my Halloween costume, the whole thing would make sense. For me and my wife plan to be Elizabeth Smart and her wacky kidnapper.

I really would rather be "Surf & Turf"--a cow and a lobster, because lobsters scream out "funny"--but, well, as Cubs fans say, there's always next year.



> It's easy to be harsh now that we're older, but remember, we were all Jung

> once. :p

Oh no. Psychology puns.

Be a-Freud. Be very a-Freud.


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 an 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.


Send your own Letter to the Idiot and/or e-mail Sloop! (And attach sexy pics, if you insist. Sigh.)


Web Site Sections:

Daily Limerick/ Daily Limerick Archives/ For Advertisers/ Sloop Central (& Stand-Up Poem of the Month)/ Biederman’s Books/ Sloop Services/ Links


Spread the Daily Limerick word! The oral way works best!

P.S.—We’re seeking advertisers—and we’ll take porn and tobacco ads!

(c)1999-2013 John "Sloop" Biederman. All Rights Reserved.