The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Archive for the ‘Du Jour of the Week’ Category

De Jour of the Week (11/30/10)

Why do hockey fights start? It’s a rough game and those guys know it going in. But sometimes they can’t hold back – they can’t help but throw off the gloves and knock some teeth out (if available to be knocked out).

But always there’s the tipping point – from, “aw well coach said don’t get in a fight,” to “let’s do this.”

Hockey Fight Tipping Points!

“Mud-blood.”

 

“I heard taxation without representation was YOUR fault!!”

 

“Bruce Willis is dead the whole movie!”

 

“If a biopic is a biographical film wouldn’t it make sense for a myopic to be an autobiographical film?”

 

“STOP TALKING! … Don’t you know I hate knock-knock jokes!?!”

De Jour of the Week (11/23/10)

Where’s My Doe-Eyed Look and Legs That Go for Days?

I’m not about to write a dissertation
About getting out of a citation
With some harmless, mindless (‘I wasn’t flirting! … Oh! I guess I was flirting …’) flirtation
But my inability to do this does cause me some irritation

When those lights flash behind me my first thought is: aggravation
Followed by: frustration
With, I’ll admit, some four-letter words uttered with some not so small amount of exaggeration
While you of the fairer sex probably practice batting your eyes in the same situation

And then the cop sits in his car for what seems a sudden-onset two-week vacation
Taking my annoyance/worry/fear past their limitation
Seriously – did he pull me over then notice a tear in his seams so he then quickly pulled out his ever-handy pocket-sewing kit for some minor alteration
Others, I won’t point fingers, sit confident, waiting to exercise their skilled craft of subtle insinuation

Next the cop walks SLOWLY toward my car – viewing it and me under close inspection
I sit thinking of laws I’ve broken, things I’ve done wrong, such guilty introspection
‘Don’t say anything wrong,’ I think, ‘Don’t do anything wrong. Don’t give him any legal ammunition.’
The pretty faces yawn – to them this is bush-league, this is exhibition

The officer approaches and stares DOWN at me, “license and registration”
Straight to it, eh cop? No anticipation?
I’d make a joke about ‘traffic stop foreplay’ but I don’t have that kind of gumption
When you’ve got that doe-eyed look and legs that go for days who need’s a woman’s intuition?

The officer asks some questions without the slightest hint of animation
I stutter and stumble with some mental constipation
My hopes of a warning go up in a bug conflagration
And you, you, you send the hint of a hint of a good vibration

Without any hesitation
(And it probably goes without saying, also without any affection)
Here comes my ticket and from me a silent nod without any argumentation
Meanwhile you allow yourself some self-congratulation

Ninety-nine percent of the time your doe-eyed look and legs that go for days are cause for adulation
But for that other time I insist on some new legislation
It’s not sublimation it’s shameless self-exploitation
And besides, it’s unfair and I don’t like it and you’re pretty and what are you up to later tonight because maybe we can discuss this over some candle-lit situation

De Jour of the Week (11/8/10)

Shakespeare Was Onto Something …

 

Yes, a rose by any other name

Is still a rose, but it’s my aim

To describe other things about a rose

With this simple-minded prose

 

A rose

By any other name

Is still just a rose

Unless you’re allergic

 

A nose

By any other name

Is still just a nose

Unless it’s nosy

 

Clothes

By any other name

Are still just clothes

Unless they’re one-size fits all for everyone but you

 

Knows

By any other name

Is still just knows

Unless it’s something she knows but you don’t

 

Flows

By any other name

Is still just flows

Unles you’ve just finished your fourth beer only to find the bathroom is out of order

 

A dose

By any other name

Is still just a dose

Unless it’s an epidural