I Love the 80's

We were Ordinary People
but my Uncle Buck was an Urban Cowboy,
The King of Comedy, and a Real Genius.
He was Born on the Fourth of July
and died on Friday the 13th.
He always knew he’d Die Hard because of his
Fatal Attraction to The Elephant Man,
who he affectionately referred to as Roxanne.
He also called him The Terminator and
Swamp Thing and Tootsie,
but those were just Terms of Endearment.
He knew that his Dangerous Liaisons with
The Elephant Man, would be scrutinized but
he didn’t care.

On Prom Night, they were
Romancing the Stone, if you know what I mean,
and they suddenly decided to get married in the next
48 Hrs. The following day, he had a
Bachelor Party, and invited all his friends.
They came from everywhere on
Planes, Trains, and Automobliles;
Among the guests were the guys from his Platoon:
Howard the Duck, Jumpin’ Jack Flash, and Johnny Dangerously,
a Beverly Hills Cop that he met at the Police Academy,
The Karate Kid, The Pope of Greenwich Village, The Goonies,
that Drugstore Cowboy he worked the Night Shift with that One Crazy Summer,
and even The Man With One Red Shoe, as well as The Man With Two Brains.
Things went Over the Top after a Midnight Run
for some Mystic Pizza at a local Diner.
Turns out that Uncle Buck had one Cocktail too many
and had a bit of a Short Circuit. He ended up trying to
Throw Mamma From the Train. How he ended up on a train
and whose mamma he was trying to throw, we still have no Clue.

Nonetheless, the next day, Uncle Buck and
The Elephant Man were married.
The Elephant Man was Pretty In Pink and Blue Velvet
and Uncle Buck was dressed like An Officer and a Gentlemen.
There was much Dirty Dancing
and they had All the Right Moves.
They spent their honeymoon Weekend at Bernie’s
and Nine ½ Weeks later, The Elephant Man gave birth to
A Fish Called Wanda, and she was Some Kind of Wonderful
Rumble Fish that loved to Splash.
Uncle Buck went Back to School to become a Repo Man
and The Elephant Man sold Spaceballs for War Games at Space Camp.

But what no one knew was that Uncle Buck was
Running Scared with No Way Out.
After a Top Secret Stakeout, he ended up Trading Places
with The Running Man, who was into some Weird Science.
They were searching for The Jewel of the Nile,
which was The Dark Crystal that Legend says
was hidden in a Labyrinth protected by Gremlins, The Evil Dead,
and Killer Klowns from Outer Space.
There was also something about
Children of the Corn Field of Dreams and An American Werewolf in London,
but both of those described places Out of Africa.

But before you start thinking that this is
a Never Ending Story, I will tell you how Uncle Buck met his fate.
He had The Right Stuff and tried to Do the Right Thing,
but his Endless Love for Fame and The Elephant Man did him in.
His search for Outrageous Fortune brought him
face to face with The Abyss. Uncle Buck found The Jewel of the Nile,
but on his trip home, Coming to America, he was Betrayed by
The Elephant Man, who was actually a Thief.
He was a Lethal Weapon too and had a License to Kill,
and he murdered Uncle Buck with The Razor’s Edge.

As his Lifeforce left him, Uncle Buck uttered these words:
“This world is filled with Ruthless People
and Dirty Rotten Scoundrels; it’s a real Creepshow,
but that’s no reason to have a Death Wish or to try to
Escape From New York. No one is Better Off Dead, and
The Thing to remember is that This Is Spinal Tap,
and also that, when we are feeling
Less Than Zero, there’s a Raging Bull inside all of us,
and each of us, from The Last Starfighter to The Last Dragon,
must look Back to the Future, and despite the
Big Trouble in Little China we must say, ‘Good Morning, Vietnam,’
put on a Full Metal Jacket, walk out into the
Red Dawn and when it begins to Rain
Man, that Purple Rain, like
Pennies From Heaven, The Sure Thing is
that it will put out the Inferno
that is St. Elmo’s Fire.”

Now that last bit might sound crazy, but
it was Against All Odds that Uncle Buck could Say Anything…

Give Love a Shot

You like to play Russian Roulette.
I am an empty chamber in the revolver.
You spin the cylinder and pull back the hammer.
I align with the barrel.
You press the muzzle to your head,
squeeze the trigger
and expect the bullet,
the flash, that bang,
but there is nothing,
just that hollow click,
and an empty exhale.

Insomniac

Sleep has evaded me once again. My eyes were closing, my breath slowing, muscles relaxing. I was entering the darkness of slumber. And then a jolt, a jerk, my eyes pulled open. The light invaded once again. A yawn. A stretch, arms reaching, toes pointing. Stood up from the couch. Walked about the room, to the window, to the desk, to the bathroom, to the bed. Sat on the edge of the mattress. Looked at the clock; nearly three. Lay back and shut my eyes again, but they won't stay closed. And so, my eyes move back to the screen, fingers to the keys. Reading, typing. Writing; the only thing there is.

Bad Blogger

I have not been consistent with my blogging...in that I have not blogged as frequently as I'd intended. In content, my blogs are consistent...in that they are all filled with nonsense. And maybe that is all the consistency I need. It's not like I've got thousands of followers, or even hundreds...or even five. So, for whom am I blogging? Am I blogging to see myself blog? I suppose so. But maybe, sometime in the future, someone, somewhere, will read this, not knowing who I am, but feeling connected to me through my words...my stupid, pointless words. Blog this.

Bullshit Instruction Manual

1. First, you must learn to recognize bullshit. Bullshit can be easily disguised as many things.

2. If the bullshit is coming from a loved-one, it is best to hold your nose firmly and accept the bullshit.

3. If the bullshit is coming from a stranger, point out the bullshit and refuse the acceptance of it.

4. If the bullshit is coming from you, be sure to keep it consistent and do not let it overflow.

5. Remember that it is easy to be buried by bullshit, so always keep an eye on its level.

6. Finally, always keep fresh bullshit on hand to ensure preparedness.

What Truth Should Do

During an internet conversation with my friend, Danielle, she mentioned that she was "shivering a lot." This was due to a lack of heat in her room, "Not because truth makes me shiver," she had to clarify because we had been talking about truth and the announcement of her physical condition at that moment came as a non sequitur. To which I replied, "Truth should make you shiver...and it should keep you warm...and it should tell you stories at night to fight off the darkness...and then, it should welcome you to the darkness."

Anti-Wind

Wind blows.
I don't mean in the gusting
sense of the word.
I mean it blows in the way
that things that suck blow.
You know, the slang
use of the word.
Like how having a broken toe
blows, or not being tall enough
to ride the ride
blows, or pizza
outside of New York
blows. That is how the wind
blows.

Always pushing you around.
Knocking your hat off your head,
making you chase it down the street.
Turning your umbrellas inside out.
The wind blows.
Howling through reeds,
scaring small children at night,
and then, during the day,
slamming their kites down
into the ground, smashing them to pieces.
It blows.
Knocking down that house of cards,
you spent most of the day building,
with one gust from a carelessly opened door.
It blows.
Wafting all sorts of foul smells
straight up into your nostrils.
It blows.
Whirling up women's skirts and dresses,
and puffing out their hair,
causing all manor of embarrassing clamor.
It blows.

Snuffing out the flame
on that last match
before you can get the fire lit.
Blasting your piss back at you
when you try to pee into it.
Oh, how the wind blows.
Swirling your father's ashes,
whisking them off into far away places
that your father never wanted to go,
like Guam or Iowa.
The wind blows.
It blows, big time.