Daily Limerick
Archives: October 2013

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)!



Years past, some young boy’d act like nut clown

a'crying, “Wolf!” Whole town would shut down!

Old metaphors, still relate,

but oft cry for update!

This one? “The pols who cried, ‘Shutdown!’”



Here’s an idea for a promotion this month, relevant to a certain medical specialty--


Er, maybe not…



UCLA study says… Whoah!

Porn as real “addiction”? No go!

One more entry dishin’--

book? Plural--editions!

Of “Daily Lim’rick Told Ya’ So”!



Guess this month you’d call a certain act “candy corn-holin’”…



Rains, floods hit the Mexican nation!

Gov. dropped ball, causing much frustration!

Folks ask, near and far…

Who they think they are--

the Dubya Bush Administration?



Overheard on a city bus--

“The only vice I got is soda pop.”

Vice? Soda pop?

Go ahead and continue to believe, Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers, that it’s just a knee-jerk overreaction to claim we’re living in a Nanny State or, as we’ve dubbed it, under a Big Mother Movement…



You all know how, “Apple a day

keeps doctor away,” but now? Hey,

to fit modern peeps--

know app a day keeps

your damn precious free time away!



Okay, in trying to get a handle on common language as affected by social media… So, we may “like” your Facebook page…but that doesn’t necessarily mean we, you know, LIKE-“like” your page?…



Virtuoso of the kazoo

did serenade fine Mary Lou!

First, she was annoyed by it,

but soon found joy with it--

when notes hummed ’long her hoo-hoo!



Welcome to Autumn! The only season favored as a name by porn stars!…

Happy First Extra Cheezy Saturday of October!…



All hail the great month of October!

Old radio dudes dubbed, “Rock-tober”!

Here’s promo to cut--

no “if, ands”…yet, “butts”--

certain docs could dub this, “Proctober”!



Considering today’s, um, edition of Sunday Story Time (below)… Should we be dubbing this, “Writer’s Block-Tober”?…




(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: One Whole Month…

…Back on the full-time grind… High time for a vacation for this section… You know, a vacation from all of those non-earned blow-offs… Something like that…



This time of year, folks be extollin’

the magic of sweets, ghouls, lost souls--sin!

Wild costumes and drinkin’

can get a guy thinkin’

to trick treat of “candy corn-holin’”!



Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers have undoubtedly noticed that we’ve been pondering changes to common language to fit our modern age, so… How’s about, “Crazy like (a) Fox…News”?…



Those who think it’s o’er the top

to say Nanny State’s our top cop…

O’erheard, train, man’s cell

chat, to friend, did tell

his only “vice” left’s… SODA POP?



Do out of work, gay porn stars stand on street corners bearing a sign--

“Will Jerk for Food”?…



Yay, fall--my fave season, by far!

Sole one that’s name is up to par

for usage--as “autumn”--

’mong pros of “naught-nught” fun

as stage name for lady porn stars!



I eat, therefore I am.

What? Doesn’t sound as intellectual as the better known maxim, but especially considering our “text while you walk/drive” age… Not sure a lot of people who “are” these days actually DO think…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/10/2013:

Your Facebook page--seek “likes” to spike wit’?

I’ll help--but don’t you get to psyched, twit!

I’ll “click” for to “like” your page,

to stoke your number gauge--

but that don’t mean I LIKE-“like” it!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/10/2013:

So, a cabal of U.S. congressmen have been arrested in a protest for immigration reform.

See, there’s nothing all that urgent needing tending to off on Capitol Hill…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/11/2013:

Month, from Beyond, ghoul types flock over

to Halloween-capping October!

If creative juices

now turn…less than lucid

you might call month, “Writer’s Block-tober”!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/11/2013:

Yesterday morning, we weren’t able to obtain all of the free, weekly Chicago newspapers, as is our habit, because the boxes were moved for an annual event.

But that’s not the major reason we’re pissed.

The event itself celebrates pointless human effort, to the point of exhaustion… In fact, each year, people freakin’ DIE participating.

What’s more, the event is sponsored by an evil organization that has threatened, and continues to threaten, the American way of life.

Yep. We’re talking about the Bank of America Chicago Marathon



Okay, this missives actually came in to our Twitter account, concerning our Twit regarding our Chief Limericist getting sick off Gino’s East Pizza, Chicago, which has happened the only two times he’s tried the fare… Anyway, he questioned whether the sickness derived from the pizza in question or perhaps the Danish college students he received it from (long story)… In any event, the good sports at Gino’s replied--

> probably a bit of both

Well, there’s perhaps reason for the saying, “There’s something rotten in Denmark”…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/12/2013:

French Halloween rev’ler, Muldoon,

craved brown sugar ’neath the full moon!

Hit party festooned

but wasn’t “costumed”--

was real Creature of Black Le Poon!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/12/2013:

Getting your Mojo back is a screeching delight of the spirit…but without the accompanying Money Mojo… Well…

Happy Extra Cheezy Saturday!…



Hails pointless strife, folks, hardly bear, upon;

spons'd by U.S.-threat corp.--sans care, went on

tear financial whoring!

To boot, damn thing’s boring--

Bank of ’Merica Chi-Town Marathon!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/13/2013:

Now, the ancient Greeks had no choice. The most practical way to get the job done, considering terrain and current technology and etc., was to enlist the aid of a cat named Marathon.

So… Why? We don’t communicate via typewriter anymore…




(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: My Impressive Wiener

While my John Thomas has, indeed, been known to impress, before you ignore today’s entry, realize I’m not waxing congressman here--you're in no danger of ever stumbling across the sexting of my Willie pics.

I’m bragging today about the OTHER use of one’s Johnson, the non-sexual kind…er, peeing.

Again, NON-sexual--not blathering about some kink today. I’m trumpeting abilities akin to what’s called “toilet humor” and… Okay, we’ll skip a few blocks down Memory Lane, back to kid-dom, when I could impress other kids with my urination prowess.

I feel a little, um, silly or whatever hitting this topic, yet I think about these incidents many times while going Number One so… Okay.

I’m not into sharing a whiz with other guys. But, again, we’re talking childhood here, when such a thing was more or less normal.

Was peeing with my best childhood friend, Jimmy, and I decided to save time, or whatever, as I tended to do, and still tend to do, by flushing the toilet toward the end of my pee stream, instead of the typical post-finish flush.

This made Jimmy laugh. And he found it impressive efficiency, to boot.

Another time, I was indulging my whizzing game of aiming the lil’ feller to completely coat the toilet water surface with foam, and an onlooking kid laughed and remarked on how admirable my ability was at this Foam Game and… Uh-huh.

Say what you will, but it IS impressive.

Not sayin’ I put this on the ol’ resume or anything…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/14/2013:

Lame marathons--why does this hype occur?

Greek’s Marathon, called for his windpipe’s blur,

consid'rin’ their current tech

and terrain--thus, call/beck.

Why now? Don’t touch base with typewriters!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/14/2013:

Not every government agency is affected by this Shutdown.

So what’s your excuse, United States Post Office?…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/15/2013:

A Congressional delegation…

jailed protesting o’er immigration?

What else to do--whiz, gee!

’Least they’re keeping busy

off in capital of our nation!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/15/2013:

It’s a well known fact that… Scratch that.

It’s a little known fact, one that should be well known, that whenever a politician or PR flak holds a press conference… Anything they say should be ignored.

Spin. B.S. Bull puckey. Hooey.

But since press knuckleheads and others deem these things important, why not just make them “scat conferences,” ala, “Shoop dop, diddily boy, skippity”…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/16/2013:

Life without thought? May’s well be damned!

But crucial need trumps it--bing, bam!

Two needs ain’t quite rivals,

but first comes survival!

Mantra--I eat, therefore, I am!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/16/2013:

Here’s a serving of irony for you Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers--

Any real “foodie”… Well, first of all, isn’t compelled to call themself an annoying moniker like, “foodie.”


Anyway, a real…food aficionado doesn’t feel the need to blog and Yelp, complete with atrocious grammar, about their recipes and discovered restaurants. When you’re truly into food, you keep those a secret.

Just had to get that off our chests.

Er, just had to get that onto our plates…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/17/2013:

Some gov. programs stopped--most are nervous!

Shutdown! Still, some go on, imperv’ous!

Though dodging the budget noose,

screwed-up--what's your excuse,

United States Postal Service?


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/17/2013:

To assuage the fears of parents and allergy activist groups, Northwestern University will hold the very first football game that’s…PEANUT-free?

Wow. So no matter how outside-the-box your personal deal is, society will drop everything else, majority be damned…unless, of course, you’re a smoker…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/18/2013:

Northwestern, first football game--stoked fer!--

that's…peanut-free? Er, what’s the joke here?

Democracy--don't be fooled--

runs on “Minor’ty Rules”!

(Unless, of course, you’re a smoker!)


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/18/2013:

We need a word for this sort of thing.

Our working term would be something like “Intended Etiquette”…or something.


Crowded bus, you have a seat, lady with copious groceries is standing in front of you, you’d like to rise and offer your seat but…she’s obviously too fat; would need two bus seats, so your courtesy would prove useless.

Seriously, we need a convenient term. It’s becoming an everyday occurrence…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/19/2013:

At Halloween party, a ragin’

horndog dreamed of costumed liaison!

Bash hailed ghouls and sin;

eyed dames there showin’ skin--

so he engaged in masquerade-tion!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/19/2013:

This time of year, we hope to ask this question--

“Are you bobbing for apples…or really, REALLY happy to see me?”…

Happy Scary-Cheezy Saturday!…



When one seems to sport crackpot views--

but has method. Madness be ruse!

In this age and day

makes good sense to say

that he’s crazy like a Fox…News!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/20/2013:

With apologies to Dr. Timothy Leary, it appears that now every time there’s a government budget deadline, we tune in; they shut down--and drone on…




(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: The Little Clock That Could

I’ve written about the titular clock in Daily Limerick before, as crack Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers may know. But… Well, it continues to amaze me with its Powers, despite its practicality taking a HUGE hit due to a certain Life Change.

It’s a portable, digital clock, about the size of an eraser, that once had a little “peel and stick” attachment on its back--sold as a “car dashboard clock.”

Yeah, don’t believe there’s a need to manufacture these anymore. It was just sitting behind the counter of some drugstore, one remaining in stock long past its period of consumer demand. I bought the clock… Sheesh. Seven years ago, perhaps?

See, I had my Coming of Age long before the advent of cell phones, which have, of course, replaced watches of any sort for the most part. At some point in childhood, I developed a penchant for pocket watches over wristwatches, perhaps due to the rabbit in “Alice in Wonderland,” perhaps just part of my overall Thing… You know, as the sort who has worn nice men’s hats (as in not baseball caps) from an early age.

But I’ve had awful luck with pocket watches. I currently have at least three that need fixing, one of which WAS fixed not long ago, only to break down again soon after fixing. So assuming I’d eventually get a working pocket watch in order, but perpetually broke (putting repairs like these on the ol’ back burner), I sought the happy medium of some form of pocket timepiece--in this case, more of a shirt-pocket timepiece, as it has little buttons to set the time and such which tend to get pushed willy-nilly if carried in a tighter pants pocket.

The use of this clock has naturally made me a target of much fun-making. Especially since it ties into my lengthy status as perhaps the last Cell Phone Nay-Sayer until this past summer.

Yet eventually these fun-makers began rooting for the Little Clock That Could. (Actually, the Little Clock That CAN, considering it’s still ticking…but that doesn’t fit the literary tie-in.) How couldn’t you? I have a couple friends who ask about its well being. “Is that little, silly clock of your STILL running?”

This clock runs on a small battery or batteries, which can be replaced but… I’ve never replaced them. That alone makes this clock amazing. It also keeps great time and takes a serious licking while continuing its ticking--I've lost it twice, once in the bushes outdoors while walking my ex-Lady’s dogs, always finding it eventually in working order.

Oh, at this point the digital display is messed-up. Sometimes a “3” looks like a reverse “L” and such but… Seven years, my friends.

Seven years.

If all of this hasn’t convinced you just how remarkable my Little Clock That Could is, it gets more magnificent--the clock has returned from the dead multiple times! At first, this would only happen briefly. Its display would appear to fog up after I’d been caught in a downpour or other situation moisturizing the clock…returning to life within hours.

Twice within the last six months or so, however, my Little Clock That Could has returned from the dead after going completely blank for more than 24 hours.

In the last case, closer to 48 hours.

I devoted an entire past Sunday Story Time to my mix of emotions in finally ending my Cell Phone Nay-Saying, so I won’t go into that too much. But one thing that saddened me with the Cellular Life Change was the delegation of the Little Clock That Could to…well, nostalgia or something. No longer an essential player among my everyday gear.

Oh, I occasionally find a use for it. Little things, too boring to relate here… And I still make sure it’s synchronized with my laptop and iPad “always computer correct” clocks, along with the clocks on my oven and old VCR and alarm clock, etc.

Perhaps some day, after I’ve left this earth, folks will visit a special exhibit within the Sloop Biederman Museum, marveling at the still-ticking Little Clock That Could…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/21/2013:

If actor in flicks…we’ll say lewd,

found self desp’rate, unemployed dude,

then he you might find

downtown bearing sign,

with hand out, say’n, “Will jerk for food”!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/21/2013:

Despite a few quibbles, we’re generally cool with the film industry’s voluntary rating system.

But we think it could use… “Rated Z.”

As in “Zzz.”

Kinda like they used to use “XXX.”

Though we know of no flicks that were Rated “X” or “XX”…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/22/2013:

Got Mojo back! Yet, ain’t it funny--

groove's set for success and love honey

but though Mojo’s workin’

you’re still left a’jerkin’

without sep’rate Mojo…of Money!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/22/2013:

A warning to you Slapper Yapper Grasshopper sports fans out there--

If you download your team’s app, record a game to watch later and think that doing all you know to shut off its notifications is enough… Uh uh.

Prepare for the e-spoiler alerts…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/23/2013:

Alleg-ed food nuts attitudes be

nose-in-air--on blogs/Yelp the dudes be!

New joints, tips? They leak it!

Real food folks’d keep secret--

and wouldn’t dub selves lame term, “foodie”!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/23/2013:

Has anybody else noticed that foods sold in “Family Packs” or “Family Sized” packages are, in reality, more often used by bachelors trying to buy in-bulk and on-the-cheap?

Then again, “Cheap Bachelor Size” probably doesn’t tickle the marketing schlubs…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/24/2013:

When Halloween hijinx turns steamy

with costumed-up girlie quite dreamy,

plan ‘t’ask--glass half full!--

“You bobbing for apples…

or just REALLY happy to see me!”


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/24/2013:

At first, these sordid tales seemed quirky, oddball news items but… Seriously, is Chuck E. Cheese now the place to go for a good brawl?…

(Go a’Goolin’ if you’re out-of-the-know)…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/25/2013:

Each time budget deadline comes ’round,

D.C. pols compete for Top Clown!

Of this, we grow weary!

Might say, ol’ Tim Leary--

we tune in, they drone on, shut down!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/25/2013:

We have our cable-TV “radio” stations on lately around the Daily Limerick, er, offices lately, specifically the “Sounds of the Season” channel, now featuring Halloween music.

In order to do something with the channels’ video, they display artist name, etc., and also little nuggets about the holiday and artists in question.

One informs listeners that actor Johnny Depp has a fear of clowns.

Seriously, though…who doesn’t?…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/26/2013:

Sly Linus--"Let’s wait, pumpkin patch,

for Great Pumpkin!” Whoah! There’s a catch!

“Babe, need patch SINCERE!”

Yo, girls--watch your rear!

Wild ploy to score Halloween snatch!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/26/2013:

Now, someone who just started dating a hooker might “play,” while out with her for a nice dinner, wondering if he’s stumbled into being john or if this one’s on her… “Trick or Treat?”…

Happy Extra Cheezy Pre-Halloween Saturday!…



Sports nuts, these days, fandom assert

through team apps--keep up latest dirt!

But if you record a game,

hide gadgets, cats and dames--

touch ’em? Bam--spoiler alert!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/27/2013:

We’d like to complain about you Lady Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers and the deluge of pics featuring you in your skimpy Halloween costumes.

Specifically, we haven’t received this deluge!…




(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: Rock Star Dreams

When I was in high school, and during my initial (failed) attempt at college, I had dreams of becoming a rock star.

Yeah, yeah, yeah--join the club and such. But I actually full-on pursued the dream. Sort of.

I practiced bass guitar relentlessly. Scales and all. Wrote tunes and lyrics--especially lyrics. Studied music theory on my own. While I mostly played bass and sang, I took lessons in classical guitar and piano, though I was never great at reading music, having only picked up an instrument at high school age.

For most of my adulthood, I’ve looked at this high school wannabe rock star thing as a diversion, perhaps because I’m first and foremost a writer, even if the Internet and all has pushed my actual paid profession more to performer these days. But doing, say, comedy is arguably writing--you write routines and even if you improv, you’re arguably writing on-the-spot and in your head.

In fact, I’ve generally looked back at that phase as downright silly, until… I’m getting ahead of the story now.

Now, I had these Rock Star Dreams before high school. Like most, I’d often change “what I wanted to be when I grew up” during shaver-hood. I loved Kiss in the band’s heyday and we’d even play Kiss on the neighbor’s jungle gym--drummer atop, the rest of us bearing badminton-racket “guitars,” singing along to music played from a boom box. The kid who played Gene Simmons even spit “blood” with the aid of food coloring! (I myself played the Paul Stanley role--although I often favored Ace “Spaceman” Frehley, I knew the lyrics better than the others so had to take one of the leads.)

It was around high school, perhaps junior high, when I started to “get” what being an artist was all about and, once high school came, it seemed the only important form of art was music. While high school is, of course, an insulated community, rock stars were the major heroes. That’s what everybody talked about. So it seemed the best, near only way of affecting the world through art was using rock. Where I grew up, specifically heavy metal.

While I was a serious artist on the levels of study and practice… Well, the practical side of pursuing a music career was lacking. Pathetic, actually. My high school band rehearsed cover tunes and made the party rounds as A Band but… Well, we TALKED about originals, started working on some… We didn’t even play for an audience, save one small party at a fellow band member’s house. (And we only played a song or two for that.)

College came and I grew as a musical artist. I went from thinking that virtually nothing but metal was cool to embracing music in all its forms, especially 1960s-70s rock. (My little heard originals were a hard yet psychedelic blend hinting at my two faves--Metallica and Pink Floyd.)

I did not grow, however, on other levels. The band I assembled, and struggled to keep together, mostly worked on cover tunes and appearing out as A Band. I must point out, though, that I really had the rock star image thing down. My drug experimentation, admittedly one big reason a real career never emerged, had me appearing strung-out on a regular basis. I hit the right notes for the troubled, mysterious artist vibe.

A pre-journalism student (the University of Illinois allowed “proper” entry to the Journalism School only as an upperclassman), I wanted to switch my major to music, which would’ve been really, really tough for a guy who hadn’t been playing to sheet music since a child and… That was something my father was not aboard with.

Why? For whatever reason, perhaps in part because my dad went the military (Navy) route as the whole hippie thing unraveled, he never fully viewed music as an art. My mother teased him for liking Pat Boone when she dug Elvis and he viewed most any music onward as untalented noise and gimmickry. He viewed my Rock Star Dreams as a problem, a sign of dangerous rebellion.

There’s in fact probably a Sunday Story Time in the night he almost busted my bass… Idea!

Now, had I stellar grades at college and lacked the obvious appearance and personal habits of one amid chemically experiments and general life turmoil… I tend to think my father would’ve come to terms with my switch to a music major, despite his encouraging my writing career since grade school.

But that wasn’t the case.

The parents cut off my college-funding gravy train around then. Which didn’t HAVE to kill those Rock Star Dreams, although four years of college rocking seemed the ideal near-future plan.

My father’s lack of support, and nixed funding, was only one reason my youthful Rock Star Dreams fizzled.

I could only delude myself into thinking that constant intoxication, cover tune rehearsals and no gigs was laying the foundation for fame and fortune for so long. For instance, at college I’d reached the conclusion that I didn’t want JUST a lead singer--that I would sing and share the duties with other instrument players, having had some diva encounters with “just singer” types. (And figuring I deserved any and all glory as “visionary.”)

Despite this, my band mates would audition singers. Soon, an older (26?) drummer came aboard, with experience in Las Vegas and such, and he really force-fed his “experienced professional metal” views on the other impressionable band mates--"A metal band needs a killer lead man with The Look,” “Our best shot at success entails playing pop metal” (I hated the whole hair-and-glam movement)… Etc.

Vegas Dude was not my only drummer foil. Once my leaving campus became inevitable--my dad having pulled my money due to bad grades and study habits, attempting to find decent employment to stay on campus not panning out--I planned one big sendoff party, assembling a band for the occasion.

Desperate, I guess I figured… I don’t know. I’d create some buzz for my Rock Star Dreams or something. Get booked by some big-time agent and thus not need to leave campus. Something.

Well, yet another drummer, whom I’d known from the dorms but who always seemed to look down on me, took the gig…but blew it off, day of the bash.


I should’ve seen that blow-off coming. He never rehearsed, claming he could handle it anyway. (He was a percussion major whom we called Confirmed Drummer Dude--as opposed to some other stoner we knew who always carried drumsticks around, Prospective Drummer Dude.)

I moved back home with the parents, assuming I’d continue nursing those Rock Star Dreams and save money to reenroll at the University of Illinois. I actually reached a point where that was feasible--my dad promising to again foot the bill were I to pay one semester myself and obtain good grades--and I’d officially reenrolled (I was never booted by the university, just my dad)… But, well, I had by then developed a drinking problem, gotten a DUI and… I never made it back to U of I. I returned to finish my degree six-seven years later, elsewhere, under much different circumstances and life philosophy.

My Rock Star Dreams began to fade from my mind, too, supplementing the job Life did on them. While I hated my dad’s guts when the funding was cut, I was becoming an adult, and I understood exactly why he did it. I even began to understand why he pooh-poohed my Rock Star Dreams.

Removed from the insulated worlds of high school and college, the importance of rock stars began to fade--and I realized something about myself.

The entire time I was writing my mostly unheard songs, most of which were lyrics-first with a vague musical idea in my head, I was working mostly as a writer. Focused more on the lyrics and message, crafting concept albums… I was a writer trying to jigger my efforts into a musical forum. I wasn’t a musician.

I cut my long hair and ditched my Rock Star Dreams, returning to writing--crafting short stories, pitching magazines with them, learning about the business, trying to come up with a good idea for a novel, etc.

Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers should know that I became an accomplished, professional writer. At least until the Rise of the Internet, dying of newspapers and all that.

But oddly enough, many moons later those Rock Star Dreams would return, seemingly of their own accord, in a much different way and… Well, this tale’s gonna have to see a Part II…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/28/2013:

First case was amusing--oddball!

Then ’nother and…still hits news crawl!

First thought simply white trash sleaze,

but now seems Chuck E. Cheese

is the best place to go brawl!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/28/2013:

So Chris Brown has again been arrested for assault.

Must be part of his Halloween costume. He’s had the “anger management” classes, so what other explanation could there be?…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/29/2013:

If fella did happen to meet

a ‘ho, and were swept off his feet,

on the dating scene

’d’be like Halloween--

he wondering, “This trick…or (her) treat?”


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/29/2013:

We think the homeless should trick or treat.

Seriously. This isn’t a gag. We’re not making fun.

Everybody should have Halloween candy.

What could possibly go wrong?…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/30/2013:

Slew of pics, DL’s got, ’Ween Eve, from

chicks--Halloween costumes, skin, sleaze?… Yum!

Fear I must protest

’bout T&A Fest--

namely, that I haven’t received ’em!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/30/2013:

Hurry! Quick! While it’s still Halloween Season, realize that the Monster Cereal folks have brought back, after many moons, Yummy Mummy!

What’s more, the packaging indicates they’ve also brought back Fruit Brute although, as of this writing, I’ve yet to locate that little treasure.

Drop everything and go get some!…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/31/2013:

All five Monster Cer’yals back! Weee!

Qwest--had way with Yummy Mummy!

Was tricky to score the last,

then, ’pon my sweet repast--

Fruit Brute took ’vantage of me!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/31/2013:

You dorky Goth kids?

Edgar Allan Poe Poe is NOT yours. In fact, he’d find you a bunch of dweebs.

Carry on…

Happy Extra Cheezy Halloween!…


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