Daily Limerick
Archives: April 2007

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)!

 

SUNDAY DAILY LIMERICK 4/1/2007:

Long-lost "stars" have "comebacks," it's said

when "reality" shows they're fed.

Yet such gigs make clear

that said stars' careers

are surely, beyond a doubt, dead!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/1/2007:

In the first U.S. war crimes conviction since WWII, Taliban-allied gunman David Hicks has been sentenced to... Nine months in prison?

Nine months? For a man whose sworn duty was to kill Americans at any cost and to, if possible, destroy the U.S.A.?

Hey--we have our sentencing priorities. It's not like this was, oh, a non-violent drug possession case or anything...

Headline:

"Overserved TV Ads Faulted for Kids' Obesity"

Yeah. That's it. Wouldn't have anything to do with crappy parenting or hours in front of the video game system, no...

Another thought: Maybe if kids weren't allowed unlimited TV access, they wouldn't SEE these "overserved" ads, which appear to magically grow pounds on viewers, so much...

Cover headline from a celebrity ass-licking mag:

"Hollywood's Drug Problem: Who's Using? It's Not Just Who You Think. Inside the Dark World Destroying the Lives of Today's Top Stars"

Pictured on the cover are Paris Hilton, Britney Spears and Lindsey Lohan.

We'll give 'em Lohan. But the other two... It'd be giving the benefit of the doubt to say their careers are in the crapper! Do they even HAVE careers at this point?

If those are "top stars"... I guess Mark Foley's a "top politician" these days...

***

SUNDAY STORY TIME 4/1/2007:

A SPECIAL, TOUCHING SECTION APPEARING SUNDAYS ONLY

(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: My Crack Whore

Some significant back story is necessary for today's editions, so buckle-up, or whatever:

Veteran Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers should know that I don't drink alcohol anymore. But you may or may not know that my time off the sauce hasn't been "straight through"--but, considering that I didn't kick the habit in the socially approved method--the "Anonymous" religion--this situation isn't as dire as it sounds.

Hell, it isn't "dire" at all.

You see, according to accepted methods--which, curiously, show little statistical success except as it regards the coffers of the "treatment" industry--if an addict slips up, he's quickly right back where he started. Thus addiction is dubbed a "progressive disease." That is, whether one has been dry for two weeks or 10 years, one drink/snort/injection/etc. and BLAM! You're right back to square one--contrary to common sense and experience.

This "progressive disease" model, however, often becomes self-fulfilling prophecy. People sit in meetings multiple times per week where they are told, over and over, about this "back to square one" theory and, surprise surprise, if they do happen to slip up, a little voice in their head cries, "Oh well, you're back on the bottle again"--goaded on by the fact that addiction, by its nature, looks for ANY excuse to indulge itself.

As far as I'm concerned, I quit drinking in 1992. I've drank many times since then--and if I had to keep one of those lame "sobriety birthdays" under the 12 Step system, I could only count a couple years--but whenever I have slipped, I've nursed no illusions that "maybe I can drink moderately now." I've know EXACTLY what I was doing: "I can get drunk as all hell tonight/this weekend and know damn well I can quit." And I have.

Of course, these "controlled relapses" aren't the smartest exercises--and I don't recommend such a thing. But since 1992, I haven't went to work liquored or, for that matter, missed a day, blown-off an appointment, screwed-up a relationship or driven a car impaired thanks to booze. And these stints were rare--for the first couple years, maybe a half-dozen per year, and they grew less frequent with time until, finally, I decided that they were dangerous and, when it boiled down to it, not a lot of fun.

There was one exception to the one night/weekend rule. I reunited with the bottle for a five-month stint, from summer 1997 into the beginning of 1998. For the first couple of weeks, I drank just at this one open-mike poetry show I regularly attended. By the end of the first month, I was also on weekends. By the end of the second month, just at night--a "semi-moderation" I stayed with right up until the end...where things started to get ugly again. Not as ugly as they were back in '92--in fact, nowhere near as ugly--but ugly, nonetheless.

The biggest bitch of it all? It was the only period in my life where I was actually "dating" multiple women. See, I was a loner, Edgar Allan Poe-esque drinker. (And, to be frank, an introverted non-drinker as well.) When I first dabbled in AA, I recall being told that we were to wait a year before getting into any relationships--and one huge reason for my quitting drinking was because I was a pathetic loner. Most crocks, I suppose, see the fact that they keep waking up with a stranger in their bed as a huge reason to quit, but I would joke--actually, half-joke--that if I WERE beddin' women like the stereotype calls for, I'd have never quit to begin with.

So, enough back story.

During this five-month stint, alcohol, for a bit anyway, lowered my inhibitions in a way that made it much easier to hit-up women. (Usually I somehow experienced just the opposite.) Now this bar that hosted the "drinking open mike" was a bit of a dive. But it was in a gentrifying area and was thus a haven amid a bunch of yuppie venues. I was there on a non-poetry night because I knew some of the regulars, poets and non-poets.

I started hitting up on this smokin' hot chick--and slutty smokin' hot, on top of it, or at least dressed like that. After I started talking to her, I was told by other acquaintances who'd noticed my "courting" that she was a "total coke slut" and that she'd posed for Hustler. (The latter claim was probably bullshit, but who knows?) I was horny and kinda figured, "Hey--I've never done something like this and may never again, so why not?"

She seemed kinda into me but remarked that she really wanted to do some coke.

(Okay, so this edition's title should more properly be "Coke Whore," rather than "Crack Whore," but...well, artistic license and all.)

So I asked around and found someone who'd sell me coke. Me and the chick went over to the place she was staying at; nobody else was around.

I've tried it, but was never into cocaine. I also figured that, since it's expensive, and she probably had a high tolerance, I'd just let her do it all. I believe I drank while she snorted--to somehow "match" her partying, on some level--and I talked with her. She had trouble making eye contact with me.

She was in a real fucked-up way. Supposed to be moving to Los Angeles the very next day with her grandparents. (I don't recall how her parents exited the picture.) She obviously wasn't real happy with her life--not an uncommon situation for one with a coke problem.

Now, every facet of this situation seemed to foretell a "sex for coke" scenario. Or at least a hummer or something. But... Well, I'm no expert in the protocol involved in such a thing. Was I supposed to give her half the coke--then ask for a little somethin'-somethin' before giving her the rest? Was I supposed to move next to her, put my arm around her, during the snorting--a form of twisted foreplay? Or was I just supposed to say, at whatever the "right" point would be, "Okay, now service my John Thomas?"

In the end, I let her finish the coke, hung around awkwardly afterward--and then just left.

When I told her I "had to go," she seemed shocked.

And that, Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers, is the story of My Crack Whore.

***

MIKE'S ACCURSED VERSE 4/1/2007:

A SPECIAL SUNDAY EXTRA SECTION

(IN BLAZING COLOR... IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT JUST RIGHT)

BY MIKE "BOOM" CHMIELECKI

 

TODAY'S POEM: Sweet destroyer

 

Oh my sweet destroyer, I love

you burning in my mouth. Your

skin is the same as your words in these

moments. When the world is fading to

a ghostly light. It's there

to outline our shape.

 

The bed is a wreck of intentions --

we lie mustily and noisily in its embrace.

The clock is throwing up all over the sheets,

each second a barb, a drop, a splitting hair.

 

Closer to the chasm. We jump toward it,

push toward it, fall toward it, fall toward it,

break toward it, rush toward it. We jump toward it,

just toward it. Toward it we rush and toward it we

slip and thrust and crash and sick up and still.

 

Until the sly sun's morning light

plays his fingers across our divinity.

Exposing us as not even

close to god-like. Exposing our secrets

and confusion.

 

I want to know you, love.

I think I know you, love.

But I know the sound of bells better.

 

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at blksqul@sbcglobal.net. He won't bite--although he may chew a bit.]

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/2/2007:

Some now say a kid grows obese

because of commercials he sees

for snacks and such things--

for our parenting's

now s'pposed to be done by TVs!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/2/2007:

Illinois State Sen. John Cullerton (D-Chicago), a mover and shaker among the Big Mother government movement (as a side note), has introduced a bill to make it illegal for a convicted child offender to own a cemetery.

Because... Well, just "because," we suppose. Gotta legislate somethin' or other, and not any of those pesky, complicated, important issues or anything...

***

SPECIAL"PULL-OUT" MONDAY"OPEN UP 'N' TAKE YOUR MEDICINE" HAIKU HEALTH SECTION 4/2/2007:

By David Sher

 

TODAY'S HAIKU: Sam F.B. Heston Haiku

 

They will have to pry

My J-38 straight key

From my cold, dead, fist!

 

[If you'd like to contact the Haiku Doctor, e-mail him at davew9lya@juno.com.]

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/3/2007:

First U.S. war crime nab since whence

ol' World War II raged--for vi'lence

with al-Qaida allied.

Just nine months for that guy--

no big threat, unlike drug offense!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/3/2007:

Now, we generally agree that humankind is screwing the environment, and that probably includes global warming... But we've held off on being alarmist about it because, despite the way society works, middle ground is usually the "Inconvenient Truth."

But then we saw this subhead in a story on the topic:

"Changing Climate, Vanishing Plankton Threaten Cod"

Cod? You mean... The End of Fish & Chips?

Ban all non-hybrid cars! Shut down the factories!...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/4/2007:

We're focused on Pitt and Jolie;

Brit Spears; Anna Nicole's O.D.;

and other "star" twits

while capture of Brits

by whacked Iran starts World War III!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/4/2007:

So big bucks Chicago investor Sam Zell has bought Tribune Co., which encompasses the Chicago Tribune and many other media outlets, including the Chicago Cubs franchise. Zell's indicated that the Cubs will be sold to yet another party at the of the current baseball season.

SL/S&Y has maintained for some time that the "Cubs Curse" is, in reality, ownership by the penny-pinching Tribune Co. But... Ahem:

We're willing to consider the fact that Tribune Co.-bashing on our part is, at least partially, because they're the Big Company in town and, well, as a pundit source, we almost HAVE to do it.

So a retraction is in order. Sort of. And a prediction from Swami Sloop, too:

Tribune Co.-owned or not, the Chicago Cubs will win a World Series... The same year there's peace in the Mid East. And just before the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse make the talk show rounds...

Okay, we can finally declare Dane Cook to be lame.

Make that hella-lame.

We've tried, oh we've tried, to like him. We first saw him on that "Tourgasm" show and, frankly, didn't find him THAT funny--but wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps we didn't get it, we thought. And his act was different from the typical, "Ya' ever notice that.../Men and woman are SOOO different, ain't they?" jokey-joke drivel so... As I think we've made clear, we sincerely WANTED to like him.

Then we heard about his MySpace fetish and... C'mon. If anything is hopelessly branded with a Scarlet Letter "L" for "Lame," it's MySpace. Especially if you're not a jobless 15-year-old and instead are a COMIC MAKING ZILLIONS OF DOLLARS WHO HAS HIS OWN REAL WEB SITE!

But again... We kept trying.

Now we learn that, in reaction to his taking a hit in MAD Magazine--now a time-honored symbol of one's making it big--he writes on his Web site that the MAD treatment is an "honor"--get this--"second to being mocked and impersonated on SNL."

This has boggled us for days now. Now, if he built a time machine, feeling more honored by a Saturday Night Live sketch would a smidgeon more understandable. Or if he were, oh, allergic to cartoons or something.

Yet the only explanation we can come up with is that he, like many comics, doesn't have a sense of humor as it concerns himself and...it's easier to take the jokes at his expense when they're NOT funny?

***

SPECIAL "PULL-OUT" WEDNESDAY "EAT IT!" SECTION 4/4/2007:

TODAY'S EDITION: Eatin' Like Elvis

Now the term, and vague idea for, "Eatin' Like Elvis" was taken from former Chicago radio personality Kevin Matthews. (Or perhaps it was "Eatin' With Elvis," I'm not sure--but in the interest of giving credit where it's due...there ya' go.)

Matthews' bit entailed ordering food, playing Elvis music in the background--and not just any Elvis, but the "hurtin' Elvis" (sad songs, especially from the Fat Elvis epoch, such as "In the Ghetto," "Always On My mind," etc.)--while eating personal-record-beating amounts of food. In ordering this food, an exchange with his news lady would go something like: "How many tacos would you order if really, really hungry? Four? Okay, you're getting' six."

So I--Chief Limericist checked in, here, as is the usual case for Eat It--well... I took the general idea and adapted it to my personal, off-air life.

I've really only "Ate Like Elvis" is an organized fashion, making it an event, with one ex-girlfriend. We'd decided that there were many restaurants we wanted to try and would thus have dinner at more than one in an evening. One right after the other.

These were actual dinners. Sure, the second or third would be smaller meals (I think our record was four)--but there was no wimpin' out, ordering just an appetizer. Eat-in, delivery or carryout--doesn't matter. Usually we worked a combination. (Go to one restaurant, then go home and order delivery for two more...) It was painful, yet delightful, all at once.

Since that relationship, I've talked other Ladies of mine into a second meal a few times. (Or "appetizer/dessert"--only to pull the ol' switcheroo and get actual entrees when the actual ordering time came.) And, personally... Well, I went from a three-taco Mexican dinner beelining to a pizza-by-the-slice "dessert" within the month.

Of all the standard relationship lines we hear, I can add: "We can't go on...EATING like this!" And I'm actually somehow proud of this fact.

I sure as hell don't need the extra trouble but... In a world with obesity on the rise... I still recommend "Eatin' Like Elvis" now and again.

DON'T ask your doctor if "Eatin' Like Elvis" is right for you. Side effects may include, but are not limited to, additional relationship problems...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/5/2007:

Some feel Cubs fans will get reprieve

now that sale is up Tribune's sleeve.

World Series in sight?

When stars align right

they'll win it on Judgment Day Eve!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/5/2007:

A coyote somehow made his way to downtown Chicago. The wily critter was ultimately discovered when he entered a Quizno's.

Coyotes, of course, are in the same family as dogs. Or subspecies, or phylum, or whatever--we merely dabble in biology.

So it's true: They WILL eat pretty much anything...

Obituary headline:

"Proponent of Natural Contraception"

More telling is the deck beneath the headline:

"Father of 9 Found Support..." No need to finish the deck.

"Father of 9" is all the info you need on the efficiency of "Vatican-approved" contraception...

Headline:

"Seven Men Who Really Understand Women"

So it's come to this.

We've known for some time that the entity know as The Media has been waxing more and more downsized, at best, and/or lazy, at worst--and that the metaphorical balls is often dropped as it concerns proper research into matters reported as fact while sensationalism and exaggeration are employed to attract extra attention.

But outright LYING, now?

C'mon! There aren't seven WOMEN on the planet who actually understand women!...

I pick up various brands of coffee at the store, depending on sales and such, and keep noticing, on almost all of them, a proclamation such as:

"For All Coffee Makers"

Hmm. Good to know but, since this is seen as a necessity, I hope they'll also notify us when, say, "Will cause Mr. Coffee coffeemakers to explode"...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/6/2007:

Path of Global Warming most dread.

But does Gore share dread in his head?

For since his big flick

pulled image boost trick--

would he prefer sequel instead?

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/6/2007:

Interserve, a Christian evangelical group out of Wheaton, Ill. (itself a haven for religious whackjobs) is conducting workshops for its sheep on how to "talk to" Buddhists, who will be in Chicago when the Dalai Lama makes his stop here for his 2007 World Tour this spring.

Is it wrong to hope for a rumble?

***

SPECIAL"PULL-OUT" FRIDAY ENTERTAIN YOURSELF SECTION 4/6/2007:

TODAY'S EDITION: Harvest

Harvest... Oh, why do I bother? (Chief Limericist and Planet's Worst Music Critic checking in, here.)

All my notes indicate is that more than one member of the band sings lead, at various points. Which I always find to be a cool feature for a band.

I remember them as being a bit heavy, for the most part. As in rockin', not deep, although I can't guarantee that they're NOT philosophically heavy.

I can guarantee that they were a pretty good listen. And some cool folks I semi-know happen to know the guys in the band. Oh, and that, I think, they're friends/cohorts/something with the band Symphonic Affair, which is a former "Entertain Yourself" pick and also amid Sloop's Glantamerous Links.

You do the rest:

http://www.myspace.com/harvest

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/7/2007:

Two poets, cavorting about,

did meet, he and she--'twas no doubt

that there was attraction

and so, he took action,

and soon whipped his Longfellow out!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/7/2007:

We're typing this sitting on the train, en route to the annual, early spring Ham Fest (which, we're told, is really about celebrating the brutal murder of some hippie, way back in the day--and we mean, WAY, way back in the day, with Romans involved and such), and as we're pulling into the station near the Chief Limericist's small hometown, we notice a giant truck emblazoned with the logo:

"Snap-On Tools"

Wow! Things sure have changed. We didn't think there could possibly be that many lesbians out this way... Oh.

The truck's delivering actual, er, TOOLS. Ratchets and such, apparently.

Snap-on, strap-on; baked potato, au gratin potahto...

******

SUNDAY DAILY LIMERICK 4/8/2007:

It's Easter and, please, don't you tease us--

blah blah blah, yeah sure, it's 'bout Jesus.

And secular rabbit?

That's lame, too, dagnabbit--

just bring on the ham for to please us!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/8/2007:

Back in 2003, you may recall, the troubles of the world were fixed with millions of dollars spent on a national "Do Not Call" list, which citizens could sign onto and thus be allegedly protected from telemarketing calls.

Well, if you signed on early, you're gonna have to renew in 2008.

DL/S&Y was SOOO wrong for labeling this political opportunism--and a temporary fix at that, to a trumped-up "crisis" to boot.

They'll make sure everybody stays on the list, if they have to hire a big-time-contributor firm to call 'em all at dinnertime...

Historian-scientists now claim that the legendary Hatfield and McCoy multigenerational feud of Kentucky was caused by...a disease. A disorder that, among other things, causes inordinate amounts of adrenaline to flow.

So now we're extending this fetish for absolving anybody of personal responsibility for anything whatsoever backward in time.

It'll get interesting if anybody thinks to do this for stuff like, say, slavery and Native American genocide...

It seems like every time, or at least nine out of ten times, these days, I see a comely lass--Chief Limericist checking in, here--I look to her jacket and see the same logo for:

The North Face.

So what gives? Do these jackets magically transform chicks INTO hot chicks? Or is this something ALREADY hot chicks decide to wear when they get together for those meetings--you know, the gatherings of the cabal that's decided, since grade school, whether I was worthy of just a teensy taste of lovin' or the typical playground teasing or nose in the air upon initiating conversation or the ol' give-him-your-phone-number-but-never-call-him-back trick, depending on life period?

Ahem.

Moving along...

But really... What's up with The North Face?...

And another thing... I'm almost, sorta appalled--but pleasantly so--over the mainstream-ization of terms like "Dirty Sanchez" and (less pleasantly so for) "Cleveland Steamer," as mentioned before to you Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers--but will admit we've been curious for some time as to what a "Glass Bottom Boat" exactly entails.

To be honest, I'm not sure I even WANT to know but now feel I probably should. Professional reasons and all.

And I heard of a "new" one, too: "Cincinnati Bow Tie." And I'm curious about that, too.

This is the only type of thing you bastards actually write in about when I ask, so fire off your e-mails.

And what the hell IS it about the these types of terms/acts and Ohio?...

***

SUNDAY STORY TIME 4/8/2007:

A SPECIAL, TOUCHING SECTION APPEARING SUNDAYS ONLY

(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: Easter Memories

Easter is about many things: solid chocolate rabbits, getting together with family, jellybeans, bonding, hard-boiled eggs, intergenerational learning, marshmallow Peeps... Oh, and somehow that hippie getting murdered and tortured plays into the celebration, but although he then allegedly rose back to life, like an Elvis for ancient times, that always seemed a bit of a downer to me, so I downplay it.

Naturally, I have many Easter memories. Many stories of gathering with kin, egg hunts, gleeful looks on the faces of children receiving their festive baskets of candy and plastic grass. And of all the memories, over all the years, of all the Easter tables--from grandma's, to Aunt Bonnie's, to my own family's and my sister's with her new family--if I'm forced to pick a favorite, it's gotta be... Well, ham.

Ham's all that's comin' to me. Drawin' a blank here otherwise.

But, hey. Ham's the centerpiece to the whole spiel. Let's not pretend otherwise eggs and baskets and Jesus are all fine and good, but I ain't coming by without the ham.

So amid all the celebration this year, the laughter, the walks down Memory Lane--in the heat of the festivities, take a pause to remember what's really important:

Ham.

***

MIKE'S ACCURSED VERSE 4/8/2007:

A SPECIAL SUNDAY EXTRA SECTION

(IN BLAZING COLOR... IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT JUST RIGHT)

BY MIKE "BOOM" CHMIELECKI

 

TODAY'S POEM: You should see you

 

In my dreams I collect little pieces of you.

You should see you all over my shelves.

 

You're stored in boxes. You're cut out of cardboard.

You coil around my brain like a tapeworm.

 

Belittling the aches, all wrongs are redressed.

You peer out of paintings. You wait in my shower.

 

You keep my heart tuned in like a radio --

then over the air Regina starts singing.

 

Awakened, I try to untangle my dreams.

The snow in her melody falls all around me.

 

The city is dancing in the palm of her hand.

Gladly I tumble, end over end.

 

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at blksqul@sbcglobal.net. He won't bite--although he may chew a bit.]

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/9/2007:

Signed on "Do Not Call" in '03?

You must again soon--for a fee

of millions! That bill,

"fixed" non-exist ill...

Don't all now have Caller ID?

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/9/2007:

Whooah, man... Don't feel so hot today... Stomach...feels funny... Is it possible to have a "ham-over"?

***

SPECIAL"PULL-OUT" MONDAY"OPEN UP 'N' TAKE YOUR MEDICINE" HAIKU HEALTH SECTION 4/9/2007:

By David Sher

 

TODAY'S HAIKU: Gratuitous Haiku

 

Mohels get first-class

Restaurant  service,  because

They leave heavy tips

 

[If you'd like to contact the Haiku Doctor, e-mail him at davew9lya@juno.com.]

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/10/2007:

"Research" now says Hatfields, McCoys'

feud from gramps down to girls and boys

was caused by "disease"--

a backward, P.C.

make-each-one-of-us-victim ploy!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/10/2007:

We've learned of a Web site, AmIAnnoying.com, which we can't help but pooh-pooh.

It rates celebrities for the purposes of placing them on lists as "most annoying" or "least annoying."

Thus the site provides a forum for hipsters to express their non-celebrity-influenced philosophies by...spending inordinate time logging onto a Web site and ranking "stars" according to annoyance factor, based on the actions of celebrities, which they've spent inordinate amounts of time following in other media--all for the purpose, of course, of bashing society's celebrity obsession...

DL/S&Y tip:

If you watch TV on your mobile phone... Let's clarify: If you feel the need to watch television while in the rare modern day situation of not being near a TV or computer media player--on a commute to work, for instance, or in line to buy coffee or something--and your urge is so great that you'll even do it on a screen that's a mere two inches wide... Well... Aw, shucks. We suddenly feel an overwhelming wave of niceness.

Anyway, just hope some strange twist of fate doesn't leave US manning the suicide hotline when you make that call. Oh, we'll do our duty and all, but it'll be tough for us to really sell the line, you know, and we'll just leave it at that...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/11/2007:

To combat "star" worship so cloying--

there's new Web site: AmIAnnoying.

But patrons rate "stars,"

trace gossip--spend hours!

So perhaps "star" worship it's buoying!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/11/2007:

A University of Chicago survey finds that the majority of doctors believe God intervenes on behalf of their patients' health.

I suppose that, depending on a variety of factors as they relate to each individual doctor, this could prove troublesome.

But it's much less disconcerting than placing blind faith in Big Pharma and Leviathan Health Insurance...

***

SPECIAL "PULL-OUT" WEDNESDAY "EAT IT!" SECTION 4/11/2007:

TODAY'S EDITION: Charge Up Your Mac and Cheeze

If you're like us, you enjoy good macaroni and cheeze.

Oh, that out-of-the-box stuff will do, but there's nothing quite like the type baked in the oven with that crispy, golden top.

Mac and cheeze, however, is often seen as a side dish. And for good reason--despite the pasta being more than filling, and the cheeze even carrying protein... It seems close but...slightly short of qualifying as dinner caliber.

So we'd like to pass this tip along: Add bacon to the top. A half-dozen strips will do the trick. Or perhaps ham--coming off Easter, you may just have some ham at this moment crying "eat me!" in your fridge.

Now, if your religion has a problem with bacon/ham, or you don't eat it for some other reason (in which case you're just nuts), I suppose chicken breast or even ground beef will do. And if you're a vegetarian, beans will fit the bill.

So charge up your Mac and Cheeze--and tell 'em Daily Limerick sent ya'! ("Sent ya'"?) If you go somewhere with it, anyway--pot luck, family gathering, orgy, what have you...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/12/2007:

New study of docs and God sees

most think He helps patients! Well, gee--

but, though we're alarmed,

such faith brings less harm

than docs' in Big Drug companies!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/12/2007:

As a member of the Author's Guild--Chief Limericist checking in, here--as hard as that may be for Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers to believe, I receive its newsletter, which contains a column with all sorts of interesting and oft useful anecdotes about authors, publishing and such.

Noted an inordinate number of celebrity authors mentioned who happen to "write from a home in the Hamptons" and/or "refuse to read newspapers or watch TV" and/or "shun computers in favor of a typewriter/notebooks."

Hmm.

Why is the literary world considered elitist and/or out-of-touch with the modern world authors are SUPPOSED to be explaining for the rest of us? I can't imagine...

Hooray, McDonald's, for introducing Angus (beef) Third Pounder burger!

Just had to get that in before we read of the agents of Big Mother whinin' and getting' their underwear in a bunch over the fact that adults are still free to choose, and still responsible for, their eating habits.

At least until they trump up the evidence of "second-hand trans fat"...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/13/2007:

So cell phones now brings us a means

to watch TV--but if you're keen

to find MORE to see--

rare spots sans TV--

please get a life--it's TWO-INCH screen!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/13/2007:

Headline:

"Evolution not Proved, Pope Says"

Thanks, Popey.

When we want opinions on modern scientific thought from someone who spends most his time poring over 3,000-year-old textbooks--don't call us, we'll call you...

Hats off to the Dunn County (Wis.) health and Human Services Board for voting down a proposal to ban smoking in public places.

According to board member Gary Seipel, there has been no "public outcry" for such a ban--and, unlike Big City politicians, the board apparently doesn't see fit to create such an outcry.

Seipel also mentioned that individual businesses should decide for themselves whether or not to allow smoking. (You may have forgotten: Businesses are free to ban smoking if they like, and have been for some time; but, curiously, despite government funded "studies" touting "economic benefits" to anti-smoking policies, most businesses appear to prefer losing money.)

Free choice? Sadly, an innovative idea in America today...

Skimmed a story about a small plane crash recently--something we normally mostly ignore--but our eye caught a bizarre piece of info:

One victim, a life-long Louisiana resident, is a CUBS FAN.

Now, we understand, or really don't understand but realize, that Cubs fandom is like religion for a lot of people--you're born into a family that practices it and you continue the tradition. In this case, of Cubs fandom, a hopeless tradition, as they'll never, ever win a World Series before Judgment Day but...that's neither here, there, or under that.

Louisiana does not have a Major League Baseball team, but there are a lot of teams closer than Chicago.

I'd like to see a study... Are Cubs fans more likely to be the type who'll patronize a dominatrix? Get whipped, kicked around and enjoy it?

In any event, the guy survived--to face another season of disappointment...

Now... Hmm. You see... Hmm.

Chief Limericist checking in, here.

I just feel the urge to get this off my nuts:

For readers whom I may actually run into contact with, realize that... Okay:

I don't speak Chick.

So, please, translate as you can. Or speak Chick, but then explain the word/term/sentence in English, is in this example from the Spanish (to English) tongue:

"Can you pass the MANTEQUILLA--that is, the 'butter'?"

Don't force me onto that "English as an Official Language" bandwagon...

***

SPECIAL"PULL-OUT" FRIDAY ENTERTAIN YOURSELF SECTION 4/13/2007:

TODAY'S EDITION: Gwen Mitchell Experiment

My first thought, as Worst Music Critic in History, is to simply state: Gwen Mitchell Project rocks! Which is true but...lacking. While I suppose the music fits under the label of "rock," since we're nutty for classifying things as human beings, it's really...something else.

I recall the GMP's instrumentation to have varied from time to time, when I saw them, but my recollections aren't necessarily worth the going rate for baboon shit. They certainly SOUND like a bigger band than they are--one or more guitars, drums, bass, violin, perhaps keyboards and/or xylophones (pardon me as my recollection, evidently, suffers a seizure).

And, yes, I did say violin--and my recollection is on with that. Sometimes, the violin's use would more appropriately call to mind "fiddle" and... My, the things that chick did with a violin! I'm still having trouble walking... But seriously, or semi-seriously, or at least quasi-seriously: They actually did a funk-infused number with violin (not "fiddle") and...and... Golly.

Exotic rhythms abounded. As most things musical, I don't know the proper terms... Rhumba-like? Samba-laden? Something like that. And Gwen can go from opera-esque soprano to a dirty rock scream.

The songs also had lyrics and lyrical nuggetry. (Nuggetry? Aw, what the hell, somehow it works!) One song was called, or be-refrained (be-refrained?): "Nice Day for a Protest." It went deeper than the typical, "People would rather watch TV than take action against folks needlessly dying in war" (although it explored that well), questioning the very nature of protest in the modern day, what with official "protest spaces" and "protest time slots" and what have you.

So, there you go!--http://www.myspace.com/gwenmitchell

Now, to finally dislodge that fiddle from my...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/14/2007:

A fella, in lack-of-sex slough,

saw doctor, who asked him to cough

while doc held his nuts

and as fingers futzed

the guy actually did get off!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/14/2007:

I'd mentioned in this space earlier this year--Chief Limericist checking in, here--that I conducted a paczki-eating contest, and other paczki-related shenanigans, at some of the live variety shows I emcee, around Fat Tuesday, aka "Paczki Day" in the Polish and Polish-American communities.

A paczki, by the way, is a Polish donut with filling--custard, jelly, cream, etc.

Anyway, the crowd often expressed its desire to see chick paczki-eaters to...well, get a little filling on themselves (curiously, I mostly enlisted hot, young babes for the endeavor). In addition to, of course, eating the paczkis in a sensual manner.

Thus, I am proud to admit that I helped create the term, and related act: Raspberry Sanchez.

If you have any questions about the Raspberry Sanchez and all that it entails... Well, get out more, for Elvis' sake..

******

SUNDAY DAILY LIMERICK 4/15/2007:

To work moves of courtship right slick

you read the signs, act--and think quick!

But during my stumblings

I'm oft near to mubling:

"Can you repeat--I don't speak Chick?"

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/15/2007:

Headline:

"Vatican to Boycott Holocaust Service"

Organized religion--always bringing people together...

Headline:

"Stunning Attack on Iraqi Parliament"

Er, sorry, but... Our sympathies and all yet, sadly, no attack on Iraqi soil can possibly by "stunning," or shocking, in any manner at this point...

In Lyndwood, Ill, the school board is outraged, outraged we tell ya', over the fact that a DVD exists showing Sandridge Elementary principal Leroy Coleman and teacher Sandra Lofton having sex.

This DVD was mailed to board members anonymously and obviously made via third party hidden camera.

So of course, the board wants... Coleman and Lofton fired.

They couldn't care less about whoever illegally filmed the two. Crime, shmime--whoever did that isn't necessarily having any more fun than they are, with their Lyndwood, Ill. school board lives...

Saw two chicks the other day smoking outside their place of employment on a break.

Which wouldn't make modern-day society look hopelessly silly, except for the fact that their place of employment happened to be a smoke shop.

***

SUNDAY STORY TIME 4/15/2007:

A SPECIAL, TOUCHING SECTION APPEARING SUNDAYS ONLY

(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: Well, Um...

Sunday Story Time just isn't in the mood this week...

***

MIKE'S ACCURSED VERSE 4/15/2007:

A SPECIAL SUNDAY EXTRA SECTION

(IN BLAZING COLOR... IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT JUST RIGHT)

BY MIKE "BOOM" CHMIELECKI

 

TODAY'S POEM: The thunder and lightning room

 

I lose myself in the brutal tattoos of heavy music,

turning the volume up to wash away the sense of displacement.

Back at my birthplace after years of running away from it.

 

I miss the city I've left but I'm already romanticizing it --

the truth is I could live anywhere as long as the food is decent

and there is a choice of movies. But I wish this city had a skyline

 

like the one I left.

Clashing with my family over the stupidest things,

I long to leave this house and strike out on my own again.

 

When my roommate's dog, Carson, came out to watch me pack,

snuffling through the fence at me, my dad and my UHaul,

construction workers next door started dropping boards

 

and loose nails off the roof of the huge new house they were building.

It used to be our neighbor's place. But she went to a nursing home

years ago and died years ago, and someone bought the property.

 

The plummeting boards and bent nails

clatterered and crashed to the base

of the recently erected chainlink fence. Carson raced inside as the noise

 

reverberated across the yard early in the morning.

I turned and took a last look at the lemon tree.

In the light chill each leaf and nub of fruit was clarified.

 

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at blksqul@sbcglobal.net. He won't bite--although he may chew a bit.]

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/16/2007:

For test markets, McD's uncovered

Third Pounder, for those with the druthers

to eat big--our voice

drowned out, like free choice!

So, take that, movement of Big Mother!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/16/2007:

Okay, so what do you call it when a guy has this bizarre sexual problem:

Every time he starts to get excited, another part of him says, "naw..." Not impotence--from full-on wood to limp, often within seconds--and then back again! It's as if his John Thomas is at war with itself! And it all started when some chick accused the guy of having a weapon in his pants, which he didn't (it was a ploy to get at his wallet), but she insisted on going in anyway and, even when caught in the lie, she kept poking around in there... Well?

Give up?

Iraqtile Dysfunction!...

Why does every goddamned "TV Prevue" I get with my newspaper have to carry a special plug/pic from "The World According to Jim"?

There's some conspiracy as to why it's still on the air--or why it even GOT on the air--and we think this is some sort of clue...

***

SPECIAL"PULL-OUT" MONDAY"OPEN UP 'N' TAKE YOUR MEDICINE" HAIKU HEALTH SECTION 4/16/2007:

By David Sher

TODAY'S HAIKU: Idiotic Haiku

 

You should never give

A blithering idiot

A chance to blither

 

[If you'd like to contact the Haiku Doctor, e-mail him at davew9lya@juno.com.]

***

LETTERS TO THE IDIOT 4/16/2007:

We received a letter from Gwen Mitchell, indubitably regarding her band's mention in Friday's "Entertain Yourself" section.

But MySpace keeps giving an error when we try to read it. (Gwen's site is through MySpace.)

Proving, once again, that MySpace sucks major balls.

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/17/2007:

Those jackets, "North Face," seem to grace

all hot chicks, o'er their skirts and lace.

I'd just like to take 'em,

sweet love to them, make'em

and let loose cum on their...embrace.

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/17/2007:

...A bit ungentlemanly we know. But it gets to one--spring in the air, Limerick-a-day deadline... And, really, it's a sign of sensitivity, even vulnerability, to crave the release of lovemaking...er, while hugged tight in a lady's arms...

News story excerpt:

"A Family Dollar store at 11218 S. Michigan was robbed at gunpoint..." Hmm.

A robber chose to target a retailer wherein everything costs one dollar or under.

Once the guy/gal's rehabilitated, however, he/she has a future in big city public transportation administration...

It seems that now-Texas Ranger Sammy Sosa points to the sky when he gets a hit.

We hear this is a way of thanking God.

It's probably more appropriate, Sammy, to point to your forearm vein, or perhaps buttocks...

In skimming classified ads, I saw the following "For Sale":

"Adult Farm Movies"

Hmm. So are those... We don't want to know.

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/18/2007:

The U.S. skipped World Stage muff munchin'.

Now e'en, say, faced with Gisele Bundchen

our milit'ry phallus

can't please Nation Gal's--it

suffers from Iraqtile Dysfunction!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/18/2007:

...Yeah, yeah. How NOT to Stretch a Metaphor 101.

But the punchline made it almost worth it. Right?

Right?...

We at Daily Limerick/Slappin' and Yappin' often avoid the huge stories of the day--you can turn ANYWHERE else for more on the... Well, depressing thing of the day.

Unless, of course, we have a point to make.

So we'll leave the big downer news alone but, although we were avoiding it so far, we'll pipe-in on Imus:

Why didn't you play the Rehab Card, Don? It isn't just for addiction--or anything that makes near-sense--anymore...

***

SPECIAL "PULL-OUT" WEDNESDAY "EAT IT!" SECTION 4/18/2007:

TODAY'S EDITION: A Mind-Blowing Discovery

Archaeologists, or perhaps it was biologists... Anyway, scientists announced a discovery this week. It seems that Tyrannosaurus Rex is distantly related to the chicken.

I thought on this a while.

You do the same.

Be still my aching barbecue grill!

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/19/2007:

When hit or homerun Sosa tweaks

he points to the sky (hella-weak).

Says pow'r came from Lord--

but... Reason ball soars?...

Makes more sense to point to butt cheeks!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/19/2007:

You may have to think a bit on today's Limerick before you "get" it, Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers.

The thinking man's limerick?

What a freakin' legacy...

Followers of celebrity-ass-licking media see a "race" between Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey as to who will re-marry next.

The DL/S&Y Line is figuring odds on which will be re-divorced first...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/20/2007:

The "ho'" backlash hit Imus hard--

in fact, his career is now charred!

Protesters came flocking

for shock jock who's...shocking?

Why'd he not play the Rehab Card?

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/20/2007:

A nationally syndicated columnist yesterday made a compelling case for lowering the drinking age to 18.

Huh? What?... Someone has the audacity to plead that those deemed old enough to die for our country be allowed to (gasp) consume alcohol? The outright gall to argue that (good God!) 18 year olds drink anyway? The 'nads to utter the "forbidden fruit" maxim?

Not to mention this pundit is among the "mainstream"! Some nutjob Naderite? A loopy Libertarian?

Actually: George Will.

Conservative, liberal; potato, potahto; partisanship, lemmings stampeding over a cliff...

So, McDonald's will offer "American Idol"-themed toys in Happy Meals.

No. The most popular show in the nation brings no sign that popular culture is dumbed-down to a grade school level. We're just bitter, hipster wannabes...

It's National Poetry Month!

Whoop-de-doo.

We haven't been asked to do diddle.

Not so much as a handjob...

Now and then, a spam e-mail hooks us, one way or another.

For instance, we had to open one subjected "Greetings"--from Charles Brown.

Happiness is not, however, correspondence from a "Kenyan Barrister"...

***

SPECIAL"PULL-OUT" FRIDAY ENTERTAIN YOURSELF SECTION 4/20/2007:

TODAY'S EDITION: Mirth and the Motor City Madman

Ted Nugent.

Bwaaa ha ha ha haaa!

Ahem.

Take it from me (Chief Limericist checking in, here): Ted Nugent is funny.

Without getting into that can of worms that is the question, "Who granted YOU the right to give lessons in The Funny," realize that some terms, people, places, etc. just make things more mirthful.

For instance... When I interned at MAD Magazine, me and one of the assistant editors at the time, David Shayne, were working on...don't recall exactly, but something related to famous murderers. The general premise was featuring these killers--Dahmer, Gacy I think, etc.--in a calendar. Ala, "Hunks of Death Row," or some such.

So we were tossing about adjectives to describe the "hunks"..."well cut," "sweaty," etc. And I threw out, "oiled-up."

David said, "'oiled-up' is funny."

See how that works? It makes all the difference when, say, you're seeking an animal reference, to use "hedgehog" instead of "rat."

One day, I was emceeing a show and one of the acoustic performers arrived late. He spun a tale involving some problems en route, including a flat tire, I believe, and being rear-ended. He told me to feel free and embellish on the tale.

So when I gave his intro, I said he'd been rear ended by...Ted Nugent.

Laughter ensued. And I realize that Ted Nugent is just FUNNY.

He might be one of those nouns that's so funny, you can get away with having no real joke.

The other day, I was playing some cassette tapes from a collection a friend of mine has left at my shack for a while--and I threw on some Motor City Madman while I cleaned up the place.

I giggled on and off the entire time.

Ted Nugent is just funny.

And I can't figure out a good way to end this edition. Perhaps I'll call and ask...Ted Nugent!

Well, you can overuse one of these funny nouns, of course, so toss 'em about sparingly...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/21/2007:

Just bein' near her brought Joe's dink

a tingle--although office finks

brought fear (she's coworker).

But, tired of bein' jerker,

dipped his pen in company ink!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/21/2007:

E-mail "Subject":

"We're giving away 500 Tickets to see Ricky Martin in Concert! Tonight at Crobar!!"

Well. You'd BETTER be giving them away. We doubt they'll be able to SELL 500 of them...

******

SUNDAY DAILY LIMERICK 4/22/2007:

McDonald's, the news, does now level:

In "Am. Idol" craze they will revel

with Happy Meal toys,

shows that top show noise

proves our culture's at grade-school level!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/22/2007:

Headline:

"Pope Revises Limbo"

Aw, man! Does the Catholic Church have to poke its way into EVERY aspect of people's lives?

If you can't get under the stick, Benny, just follow the rules of good sportsmanship...

This just in: We have FAR more MySpace friends than does Dennis Kucinich.

And we actively scare people away with our profile, whereas Kucinich is practically lickin' balls to get folks to even listen to him...

***

SUNDAY STORY TIME 4/22/2007:

A SPECIAL, TOUCHING SECTION APPEARING SUNDAYS ONLY

(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: Well...

Sunday Story Time is taking the week off.

Yes, again.

Hey, we're based in Chicago--and the weather is FINALLY matching the "Spring" designation.

We'll return next week... Promise!...

***

MIKE'S ACCURSED VERSE 4/22/2007:

A SPECIAL SUNDAY EXTRA SECTION

(IN BLAZING COLOR... IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT JUST RIGHT)

BY MIKE "BOOM" CHMIELECKI

 

TODAY'S POEM: An awful, awful lack

 

I'm not looking for love or

for the end of love. I'm not looking

for anything. You can try to pierce

my shell and see the glistening truth,

but my carapace is so thick and opaque

you'll never find your way in. I spent

a lot of time whittling my intentions

to a spear point. They solidify around

my lack of feeling and make it transparent,

an icicle in my heart. How long will it grow there?

I'm going to snap it off.

 

And we're left sifting through the wreckage

looking for any motive in this senseless brutality.

Tacking up photographs and missing photographs

in a community mural. Reading and writing about lost lives, the stories

of heroism and tragedy, and nibbling around the edges of an awful lack.

An awful, awful lack

filled with sadness and shock and no real reason,

no real reason.

 

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at mpchmielecki@gmail.com. He won't bite--although he may chew a bit.]

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/23/2007:

It's National Poetry Month!

Just what's that mean? Well, I'll be blunth:

Trot out academics,

run-of-the-mill slam-tics--

ignore us all, 'gain, when months' doneth!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/23/2007:

Music industry buzz says that Bon Jovi's next release will be an all-country album.

Guess you have to give 'em credit for versatility. At least he can't sing or write a decent song in multiple genres...

There exists a ceremony called "The TV Land Awards."

So... Awarding entertainers for achievements of many moons ago?

Are these the same people booking Super Bowl half-time shows?

***

SPECIAL"PULL-OUT" MONDAY"OPEN UP 'N' TAKE YOUR MEDICINE" HAIKU HEALTH SECTION 4/23/2007:

By David Sher

 

TODAY'S HAIKU: Fast Food Haiku

 

How do musicians

Play while eating their dinners?

In pizzicato

 

[If you'd like to contact the Haiku Doctor, e-mail him at davew9lya@juno.com.]

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/24/2007:

Bon Jovi will soon foist upon us

an album with "country" as mantra

so we can all see

versatility--

as they suck in multiple genres!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/24/2007:

Headline:

"Lake Michigan Chub at 4% of '80s level"

Now, sure--most of us here went into the decade with the tail-end of puberty, but... Four percent? That's gotta be off. Just the other day on the bus, why, the Chief Limericist...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/25/2007:

"TV Land Awards" do bestow

prizes on stars, shows long ago

in pop culture prime--

same way that they find

acts for Super Bowl halftime show!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/25/2007:

As the weather heats up, ladies wear less clothing, barbecue grills commence to smoking, opportunities for outdoor hijinx open up...but there is a dark side.

Not only does the riffraff crawl out from its nooks and crannies, but the sunlight has some effect on folks' craniums. People become more stupid and annoying.

As MAD Magazine once put it, "It's not the heat, it's the stupidity."

Be forewarned...

***

SPECIAL "PULL-OUT" WEDNESDAY "EAT IT!" SECTION 4/25/2007:

TODAY'S EDITION: A Twenty-One Sob Salute

Sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob.

Harold Max Mayer (1917-2007) passed away last week.

Mover and shaker among the Oscar Meyer empire and, most notably, inventor of the "Smokey Link."

And while you may weep, Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers--we're bawlin' like spoiled schoolgirls here in the Daily Limerick Towers--realize that Harold will live on, on our tastebuds and in our stomachs.

And, well, other places. But that's just the nature of delicious Smokey Links...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/26/2007:

A shooter made life vid'yo game

and some wonder, "What is to blame?"

Cite society,

need for therapy...

Hey: Bad apple nutrod's blame's name!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/26/2007:

Last night, we understand that "American Future Trivia Question Answer," er... "American Idol" ran a special episode, "Idol Gives Back."

Yay! Pop culture's coming back into our hands!... Oh.

It was some charity thing for Africa. So that, of course, if that continent ever becomes prosperous, the seeds are sewn for the recording industry to destroy ITS pop culture...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/27/2007:

Saw, "'Merican Idol Gives Back"

(at African char'ty, takes crack).

Cool--but thought, first spy

they might rectify

its pop culture terror attack!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/27/2007:

Okay, so a group of costumed patrons engage in a bar crawl in Melbourne, Fla., and one of them, Dr. Raymond Adamcik, hits-up on, and consequently gropes, a chick in the bar--while dressed as Captain America and carrying a burrito. And to top it all off, the victim had to pick the assailant from an impromptu lineup outside the bar, as multiple participants of the crawl were dressed as Captain America.

We don't have much to add to this story. But a couple notes:

1.) If nothing else can be said for the not-so-good doctor, you gotta give him credit for having balls o' brass. Sure, the alcohol helped--but I was a bit "off" the other day in chatting with a chick I know on the street, considering I'd run out briefly, pre-shower and dressed around-the-house dumpy. (Chief Limericist checking in, and promptly out again, here.) (Oh, and Doc gets points for "keeping his eye on the prize," too, considering he had a burrito at the ready and was able to take his mind off THAT.)

2.) We're also a bit ashamed that we weren't the source to break this story. If any recent story has DL/S&Y written all over it, it's a guy fondling a chick while dressed as Captain America and holding a burrito...

We recently mused about spotting a lot of hot chicks wearing "North Face" jackets and such.

We even wrote a bawdy Limerick about it. Imagine that. Bawdy Limerick.

Anyway, it sorta accidentally came to our attention that non-hot chicks wear the line, too. And semi-hot ones, too. And, really, butt ugly ones, not to mention guys.

Funny that we notice the trend among hot chicks before those of others, huh?...

***

SPECIAL"PULL-OUT" FRIDAY ENTERTAIN YOURSELF SECTION 4/27/2007:

TODAY'S EDITION: The Ross McLochness

This may be a new low for "Entertain Yourself."

Or perhaps we've already hit this low. Who can keep track, sliding along on a snake's belly in this wheel rut we call "Entertain Yourself."

Anyway, The Ross McLochness is cool. Kick-ass. And country-ish. I think.

That's all I've got.

Except:

http://www.myspace.com/dodgecitygetouts

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/28/2007:

A pair made sweet love by the fire

but the situation turned dire

'til spark flew through air,

hit his nutsack hair

and his cock became thrusting pyre.

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/28/2007:

Since it's the final weekend of National Poetry Month, there are a whole slew of events planned. At places like...oh, universities, cultural centers...libraries and bad-neighborhood coffeehouses!

Why, there are...readings by academic types and...lectures and...symposiums and...and... Zzzzzzzzz...

******

SUNDAY DAILY LIMERICK 4/29/2007:

Iraq, turns out, wasn't a cinch.

So Bush folks, with nary a flinch,

thought: trump up a hero--

preferred "10" to zero

and "found" one in Jessica Lynch!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/29/2007:

Observers have noted the Hilary Clinton speaks in a Southern Accent--only when talking to Southerners and/or blacks.

It's good to find a news story that lessens one's being jaded over modern politics. For Abe Lincoln is noted for saying that, "You can please all of the people, all of the time, with the right focus groups..." Er... Perhaps we should double-check that quote...

If you haven't followed the Chicago Cubs and the club's newest manager, Lou Piniella (and we can't help following them on some level, reading Chicago newspapers), take a moment for a Web search--have a look at the money spent in the off season on new talent. If you have time, take a look at the team's history. Oh, and make sure to check the current standings.

Now, headline:

"Lou Isn't Subscribing to Curse Hype"

You will, Lou. Oh, you will...

***

SUNDAY STORY TIME 4/29/2007:

A SPECIAL, TOUCHING SECTION APPEARING SUNDAYS ONLY

(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: Cherie

Ah, spring! The time of year when a man's fancy turns to... Well, the many times one's been hurt by chicks, if you're a pathetic poet type, anyway.

It was the summer just before I entered high school and while I had kissed a girl once, many moons earlier, it hardly counted, being a quick, youngster-style pucker-press-and-run.

Like most of love's fleeting successes, I wasn't expecting anything at the time. Was to spend the weekend at my friend's house and a chick friend of his was visiting, whom he hadn't seen in many years but with whom he'd been dubbed "boyfriend and girlfriend," at least by the parents involved, when they were both tykes. (One of those mostly kidding, wishful thinking kinda things--when two good friends become parents and have children of opposite sexes.)

Lest you have not paid attention to things titular, her name was Cherie.

Mark (my friend), Cherie and I were all dropped off at a park while the parents went about their adult catching-up. And I began to notice a chemistry between Cherie and I that... Well, even I could sense something there, and I've been known to miss the most obvious of opportunities, fuck-up the most un-fuck-upable of situations, to somehow lose the shoe with the surest shoe-ins imaginable, as it concerns relations with the fair sex.

Mark sensed it, too, evidently, because at some point he made himself scarce, walking along the river, tossing rocks from a bridge--whatever the hell soon-to-be-post junior high kids do in a park on a summer day. I still remember how I made the initial move, which was a case study in lame-ity, of course--but considering that it WORKED, maybe not.

I told her about an episode of the old sitcom "Alice" (I told ya' it was lame) wherein Mel--the owner of the diner wherein he, regular customers and the "star" waitresses engaged in wacky hijinx--had a cousin Wendell visit. Wendell was a stereotypical doofus with women, but he'd scored a date, and Mel showed him the ropes as to how to make a move at the movies.

First, you yawn and stretch, with your arm landing curiously around the shoulder of your date. Then, you blow in her ear. Then, you say, "Try this on for size, baby" and kiss her.

So, having related the sitcom situation to Cherie, I jokingly yawned, followed by jokingly blowing in her ear and then I actually asked if I could proceed to step three. She shrugged and we were soon kissing. (I don't recall if I bothered with the "Try this on for size..." crack.)

We kept kissing for quite some time. My first tongue-involved kissing, to be sure. We ended up rolling around in the grass somewhere and I played with my first boobie. (Not counting a show-and-tell incident on the playground, anyway.)

At one point, Mark, Cherie and I ended up seated at a picnic table and Cherie and I were singing an altered version of a song from Sesame Street: "One of these three is not like the others, one of these three just doesn't belong." (A not so subtle clue that we wanted to be left alone for even more romantic Tom foolery.)

I felt bad about the affair, afterward. Apologized a couple times to Mark for swiping his girl, even if it were "swiping" his "girl"--although he really didn't care, and a part of me knew that... Let's just say it was an early case of my little head overriding my big head.

After that weekend, when she went home... Well, it'd be another couple years before either of us could drive, a seeming eternity, and she lived off in a west Chicago suburb while I lived in a northwest almost suburb, rural area, seemingly on the other side of the globe.

We sent long letters back and forth--this, of course, being before e-mail or MySpace. We both studied Spanish in school, so we wrote some entirely in the language.

At one point, I mentioned the idea of us getting married in a letter. (Did I mention lame-ity yet?) She said she was flattered--nobody had EVER broached the subject of marriage with her (imagine that, for a freakin' fourteen-year-old) but... She also suggested "cooling it." (As if things were really "hot," firing off weekly letters and lacking any guess as to when another physical meeting could occur.)

I cried. On and off, for days. (Did I... Guess I've mentioned it already.) I specifically remember playing certain songs, which were far from current songs at the time--Willie Nelson's "Blue Eyes Cryin' in the Rain" and "Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground"; Rod Stewart's "I Don't Wanna Talk About it" and "The First Cut is the Deepest"; for instance. Selections from the strange mix of cassette tapes I had at the time.

I suppose I could try looking Cherie up on the Internet or something. But I'm not one to do that. Plus I'm easy enough to find, with this site and all, so I don't consider it my obligation.

But otherwise, oddly enough, the Willie Nelson song rang true. At the end of that weekend, her mother was preparing to go, Cherie was pleading to stay another week (there was no school to make, after all)--and getting nowhere. We said our goodbyes, it was raining and, for some reason, Cherie was out waiting by the car while her mom continued talking with Mark's mom, inside--perhaps having a hard time pulling herself away from an old friend she wanted to catch-up with still more.

I was with Mark inside, but he maintained a courteous distance. And I looked outside at Cherie...

"In the twilight, below I see her

blue eyes cryin' in the rain

and as we kissed goodbye and parted

I knew that we'd never meet again..."

***

MIKE'S ACCURSED VERSE 4/29/2007:

A SPECIAL SUNDAY EXTRA SECTION

(IN BLAZING COLOR... IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT JUST RIGHT)

BY MIKE "BOOM" CHMIELECKI

 

TODAY'S POEM: Self-love, self-hate

 

She does what she can to hide her beauty --

she feels it gets in the way of her work;

people perceive her differently

than she wishes. So, even the gorgeous

dream of idealized selves. Of what

we could accomplish if we just weren't

who we are. If I wasn't me,

I wouldn't be writing this poem,

in a room that lets in the light but

doesn't see too many people.

 

You certainly wouldn't be reading about it.

 

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at mpchmielecki@gmail.com. He won't bite--although he may chew a bit.]

***

LETTERS TO THE IDIOT 4/29/2007:

Well, someone from The Ross McLochness--featured in Friday's "Entertain Yourself" section checks in:

> Not sure how "cool" or "country-ish" we are, I see us more as a "regional

> Mexican" flavor with a dash of "pre-postgothabilly". Now that is obnoxious!

> -Ross

Well, you would know better than I. (Worst Music Critic on the Planet checking in, here.)

But if it's of any use, you have it for your press or whatever.

They say that "all publicity is good publicity," but they generally refer to "bad" reviews. The subject which has yet to be explored is the effects of truly crappily written publicity...

******

DAILY LIMERICK 4/30/2007:

So Hilary is of the bent

to speak in a Southern accent

when stumping 'round blacks--

there's nowhere she'll slack

in tryin' to please ev'ry sides tent!

***

SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 4/30/2007:

A booty call thrown out long ago can return--to please you, or to haunt you.

Like a shout into a canyon, its echo can bounce its way for miles and miles--returning to your ears perhaps years later.

Well, maybe that's not true. We've been musing philosophically on Bootyism, lately, see? Ain't any dippier than "one hand clapping"...

***

SPECIAL"PULL-OUT" MONDAY"OPEN UP 'N' TAKE YOUR MEDICINE" HAIKU HEALTH SECTION 4/30/2007:

By David Sher

 

TODAY'S HAIKU: Frazzy Haiku

 

A calculator

With dead batteries needs a

Mathemortician

 

[If you'd like to contact the Haiku Doctor, e-mail him at davew9lya@juno.com.]

 

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

 

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