Poetry Thursday

 

 

Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday.

Hats, Bats, Shoes, Booze, Mountain bikes, Potpourri, Leather bags, Girlie mags, forty-fives

Everything your heart desires

All those things that you have been wishing

Are waiting for you in the last hours of Thanksgiving

For five hundred you can get a brand-new TV

Just costs a kidney, who needs to pee?

Buy four IPads get the fifth for free

If you can survive the mosh pit in aisle three

How about Pelaton, wouldn’t that be wild?

All it will cost you is your eldest male child

Computers, clothes, perfume made by Jimmy Cho

To get them you need to manage time like Doctor Who

What’s an elbow in the ribs when you’re getting such a bargain

A cappuccino maker is worth the kick keeping you from ever having a hard-on

Aunt Edna will love the velvet chiffon

You’re going to have to send it from jail, to get it you shivved Puerto Rican Juan

There’s a TV for sale with the biggest screen you have ever seen

The cost: An associate will remove your spleen

Think of all the savings on that pair of designer jeans

Twenty percent off it you lick clean the latrines

Bargains everywhere, what a show!

This ring will make your wife love you like Marilyn did Dimggio

All you need to get it is to give the manager fellatio

If you’ve read enough of my poems that rhyme was something you would know

The violence and greed are at the extremes

If people would think they would know our sales are specious

But the thing that most pleased\s us

Is the season is about shopping and not a kid named Jesus

 

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat This Caption

 

Can you spare a square, or a napkin? 

A paper towel?

A damp rag?

I'm telling you, that we have a situation in there.

Monday Question

 Do you decorate for Christmas?

When do the decorations go up?

Do you ignore them, or are they a source of mischeif?

Ruby's Answer
My family decorated today.

I am the first dog in the family to try and chew the decorations.

That is why they hired these soldiers to guard the tree.

Foley Monster's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: Elvis Has Left the Farm

 

It seemed like a new year, with a bright, sparkly morning full of possibilities.

 

When we were young, we thought our youth would last forever.

 

But, for me and my friends, like Josie, it is winter, and we live beyond the brilliant sunset. Josie had left her mom in the paws of three young males, Called the Boys collectively and Moo, Huck, and Elvis singularly; we were kept abreast of their lives from the litter.

 

They brought their own New Day with a long life ahead of them.

 

But now their song is ending: First Moo, from brain cancers, and this week, after three weeks of liver failure, Elvis left the farm.

 

 When I got a text on my I-Paw that Elvis was coming, I immediately thought about the day he and his brothers were born, brown and white little dumplings of love. At first, as all dogs are, they were supposed to be separated, but fate had other plans: The boys stayed together on the farm, ran rampant, got in constant trouble, and whose antics made us laugh with delight. 

 

People wonder why dogs don’t live as long as humans. Dogs live longer than humans; we just do it at a supersonic speed to fit 80 years of fun into eight years. The boys, Elvis, Moo, and Huck, lived life faster than most dogs, which sadly gave their humans less time to enjoy them.

 

When Moo crossed over from brain cancer, he ran past me, past his sister Sophie, and for a mile into the hills before he came back, kissing everyone and chasing bunnies.

 

Elvis’ arrival was equally energetic. He began barking in triumph as he crossed the bridge and kept it up going up the stairs. His tail wagged, cutting his paws out of anyone standing near him.

 

Then he saw Moo, and they ran to one another so quickly they set the grass under them on fire. Sophie told me to lie down. This would take a while.

 

After two hours, I wrote the oath on a bone, threw it at Elvis, and ate it. I guess that’s legal.

 

Back on the mortal side, Huck has taken on the job of making his mom smile. He is no longer a boy but still raises smiles like he was a puppy.

 

We watched the boys grow up to become men in the blink of an eye, then they became seniors, and with the blink of another eye, they were gone.

 

The mortal side is a little less fun now that Elvis has left the farm.

If you are in the mid-west this winter and hear thunder snow, that is just Huck and Elvis, still running towards eternity.

Poetry Thursday

   

Once again, Angel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton have provided us with a photo for Poetry Thursday

They were married in May.

And on their way

To a delightful bed and breakfast

Just down the path from San Jose

They were shown the bridal suite.

Featuring a big bed with a new sheet

The man looked around and said, “Where is the bathroom?”

The man replied: “Its right outside the house, from the door, only a few feet.”

“It didn’t say in the brochure about an outhouse,”

Said the man’s new spouse

“Didn’t think I needed to,” the owner said

“Just knock on the door hard, it scares off the mouse.”

The owner then said, “So there is not a miscommunication

And I don’t want to negatively effect your celebration

But, I have one rule to be followed without hesitation

In the outhouse there is no fornication.”

The owner told them to enjoy themselves and left

The bride was bereft,

But her husband told her it would be fine

If they had to use the outhouse, they would be deft.

In the middle of the night, the bride had to pee

The man said he would accompany her, and she did agree

They went out into the cold night

As the grandfather clock struck three

They made their way to the outhouse door

And “I won’t leave,” the man swore,

But his bride had another idea

She pulled him in for a quickie, the owner warning she did ignore

She asked her husband to treat her like a whore,

And he asked himself what he was waiting for

They were going at it hot and heavy

When there was a big crack, they fell through the floor.\

When they didn’t come down for breakfast, the owner checked their room

And went searching for the bride and groom

He saw the outhouse had collapsed

And he knew they had met their doom

He called the dual police and fire station

And their bodies were found floating in poo and pee, a frightful combination.

As their bodies were recovered and lifted from the ground

The owner shook his head and said: “I told them in the outhouse there is no fornication.”

Wordless Wednesday Picasso Edition

 

Beat This Caption

 Yes, I pooped in the pasta, but you're the one who served it you donkey.

You could have killed someone

Monday Question

 

 Do your parents have plans for Thanksgiving and do the include you getting turkey?

 

 

 

My parents are going to Mommy'd brother's house in Plymouth

There are going to be about 18 people there

The average age of those attending will be about 87.

 

Plymouth is my dad's ancestral homeland.

His ancestors landed in Plymouth three years after the Mayfield.

My Dad's 12th great-grandfather was named Thomas Faunce.

He lived until he was 96.

In his last years, he was a church elder and business owner.

They were building a new pier

Thomas wanted it constructed close to his businesses.

He had his workers carry his in his chair to where they started working on the pier.
The men were about to smash a large rock blocking where they wanted to buiild.

Thomas ordered them to stop, and when questioned why, he said that it was the rock where the Pilgrims landed.

No one had claimed the Pilgrims landed on a rock, but Thomas was the only person in town who knew the original Pilgrims.

That, and Thomas being a church elder, was enough.

They decided to build the pier down by Thomas' properties.

They also decided to get the rock from the shore and show it off in town.

In 1696, there was nothing to do in God-forsaken North America.

They thought people would come to town from all over to see the rock.

They called it Plymouth Rock.

And it is still in Plymouth near the shore.

All due to my dad's family s ability to tell tall tales.

Foley's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: Welcome Julie

 

While I considered cats my enemy while I walked the mortal side, that was not my fault. I once tried to make friends with a cat and got bipped on the nose for my trouble. Bip me once, shame on you; bip me twice, and I will bring the fire of a thousand suns on you.

Two things have helped me soften my stance on cats: The first is living with them in harmony, which I  have done at the Bridge. I have even been invited by my friend Paddy to several cat parties (there is no party like a pussy part.) The second is the friends I have made in the cat blogosphere.

 One of those friends is a beautiful black cat named Julie. I enjoyed her blog. She lived a happy, relaxing life even after her mom moved.

Julie reminded me of my mom because they both suffered from breast cancer and recovered, but unlike my mom, it recently came to light that Julie’s cancer had returned. Her mom gave Julie the greatest gift, freeing her from the pain,, and the trouble of the mortal world. Julie had been in pain, and her mom took it all on herself. It was so overwhelming she could barely function.

Julie knew only one thing: this type of all-consuming sorrow. It was called Winnie.

The black cat did not know she was the key to saving a human because she had waited so long for a human to save her. Being five years old and homeless, Winnie’s prospects as a family cat seemed hopeless. But then Julie appeared to her in a dream.

 Julie knew her song was ending before her mom did, and she had begun scouting the local shelters for her replacement. Winnie, a cute and caring cat desperate for a family, seemed the perfect choice. So, when Julie passed, she went into her mom’s dreams and told her how to find her new best friend, Winnie.

The day after Julie's death, her mom, as if guided by an unseen hand, went to the shelter, found Winnie, and adopted her without question. Even though humans have been programmed not to believe in the miracle of angels, pet parents still retain a sliver of belief, which often saves them.

And that is what Winnie did. She did not wipe away the pain, but she made it slightly more manageable, which is the greatest gift an angel can give.

Meanwhile, Julie has a house by the river where she sits in the window daily, waiting for her mom to come to her final home, hoping she doesn’t.

Flashback Friday January 2010: Foley and Pocket in the Olympic Bobsled.

 

Bob Papa: I’m Bob Papa; hello. Hello, and welcome to Vancouver, Canada, where it’s 76 degrees and sunny. The Italian Ice concessions are now selling Slushies.

Lewis Johnson: And I’m Lewis Johnson, here to bring you the finals of the Bobsled competition and remind everyone coming out to see the event live to bring sunscreen and one of those mini fans because it’s hot out here.

Bob Papa: This year, we have a first for the Winter Olympics.

Lewis Johnson: Synchronized swimming on the speed skating track.

Bob Papa: No. From the nation called, I believe, The Tanner Brigade, two dogs, Foley Monster and Pocket Dog, have been given a bye and will compete in the bobsled finals.

Lewis Johnson: It says here this Tanner Brigade is an online community. I was unaware they were allowed in the games.

Bob Papa: It wasn’t until it was discovered that Liechtenstein is a Facebook group for Affenpinscher lovers that other online communities opened.

Lewis Johnson: Let’s go down to former Olympian John Morgan with the brave dogs.

John Morgan: Thank you, Lewis. Let me just put down my pina colada and parasol. I am here with Foley Monster and Pocket Dog, the two Tanner Brigade bobsled team members. Now, have either of you ever operated a bobsled before?

Foley Monster: No, sir. I just Googled dog sports, and when I saw " sled, " I knew this sport was for me.

Pocket: Well, first, she tried the biathlon, but she shot our neighbor.

Foley Monster: That reminds me; get well soon, Tommy!

John Morgan: You do realize that you pull a dog sled but ride in a bobsled?

Foley Monster: That’s the significant part. All we have to do is ride.

John Morgan: Foley, I think you should understand…..

Bob Papa: Sorry to interrupt your John, but we have a breaking story. US Olympic ski medallist winner Lindsay Vonn had her leg crushed by a drunken Zambezi driver in the parking lot at the training facility.

Lewis Johnson: Olympic officials say the accident was caused not by the drunken Zamboni driver but by Walker’s error.

Bob Papa: That’s correct, Lewis. Just because Lindsay is an Olympic athlete doesn’t mean she can adequately walk in a parking lot.

Lewis Johnson: Especially around a cocked Zamboni driver.

Bob Papa: I know there has been a lot of criticism of the Vancouver Olympics, but remember, the Daytona 500 was held up because of a pothole. Hence, no city is immune from errors when planning a major sporting event.

Lewis Johnson: So come to Vancouver, the Daytona of the Northwest.

Bob Papa: Given the weather this week, they should have a bumper orange crop this winter.

Lewis Johnson: Foley and Pocket are getting ready for their run.

Bob Papa: Pocket will be pushing, and Foley will be driving.

Lewis Johnson: Pocket is digging her little paws in, and I think she’s got it going.

Bob Papa: And they’re off. Foley and Pocket have allowed us to make them for this ride, so let’s listen.

Foley: Weee, this is great.

Pocket: OK, we’ve got a turn coming up; make sure you steer into it.

Foley: Steer, how do you steer?

Pocket: I thought you studied online last night.

Foley: I was going to, but I talked to Hattie Mae all night.

Pocket: Look out for the turn.

Foley and Pocket; AIIIEEEEEEEEEEE.

Bob Papa: The Tanner Brigade team is having a great time.

Lewis Johnson: They are, but some yellow liquid discharge seems to be coming from the back.

Bob Papa: That looks like pee.

Lewis Johnson: If anyone knows pee, it’s Papa. And now there is something brown.

Bob Papa: Papa knows poo too.

Lewis Johnson: I think their strategy of lessening the weight in the sled is excellent.

Bob Papa: Either that, or they are scared shitless.

Lewis Johnson: Let’s listen in to them.

Foley Monster: Hit the brake, hit the brake

Pocket: What’s a brake?

Foley Monster: Do something besides peeing and pooping.

Pocket: At least I did that. We

Lewis Johnson: Ooops, Pocket just got thrown from the sled.

Bob Papa: Well, this isn’t the fault of the Olympic Committee at all.

Lewis Johnson: Well, I can see why they call her Pocket Rocket. Look at her fly.

Bob Papa: Foley, going solo, goes high into the turn, comes down, and Pocket lands in her lap.

Lewis Johnson: Let’s take a listen.

Pocket: Holy Vick, I could see Russia.

Foley: Get off of me. I can’t see to steer

Pocket: You haven’t been steering this whole time.

Foley: Oh my God, the wall, Holy mother of Lassie, we’ll die!

Lewis Johnson: They're high in the turn, coming down, and now they’re crossing the finish line- a new world record.

Bob Papa: Incredible, and look, they’re not stopping; they’re going right over the wall.

Lewis Johnson: And they seem to be landing right on Lindsay Vonn’s Subaru.

Bob Papa: Not the fault of the folks here in Vancouver.

Lewis Johnson: But I think they’re all right. They are being swarmed by the other Olympians.

(Half an hour later, Foley and Pocket are awarded the gold medal, and the Tanner Brigade anthem begins to play.)

O Tanner Bub!

Our home and Yellow Lab!

True canine love in all thy dogs command.

With glowing hearts, we see thee rise,

To bark loud, solid, and free!

From far and wide, O Tanner Bub,

We boot up our computer for thee.

Tanner, keep our site glorious and private!

O Tanner, we boot up our computer for thee

O Tanner, we boot up our computer for thee