Taking what life throws at me one pitch at a time
Underwhere
I mumbled
While practicing
My thousand yard stare
Overthere
What
Why are they always a pair
Who
Underwhere
No
Underwear
Oh
I didn’t care
Even if they have a tear
From being caught in my snare
Because
Underwear presupposes
Overwear
Since I knew I had a spare
I supposed I could wear
My underwear over my underwear
Inventing overwear
Overwhere
No
Overwear
Pointless perhaps
High fashion for others
But I still won’t share
Because the fare
Is just not fair
Now back to playing Commando Bear
♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩
When everybody
Becomes a thrill seeker then
Nobody is thrilled
Nothing special Nothing gained
Cheap thrills Cause the thrill is gone
♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩
Clocks askew as I
No matter how hard I try
With money to buy
Seem to steal on a whim
All my daylight savings time
ᕦ༼ ~ •́ ₒ •̀ ~ ༽ᕤ
I find myself living in the cosmic combo platter of prompts that feed directly up the flapdoodle flagpole that is my stream of consciousness. Trying to make sense of the chaos that is the firehose of information of all flavors while sorting through what may be plausible as opposed to implausible makes me realize that my inputs are like this mess of cables on this utility pole flowing with flapdoodle opinions to the internets while becoming the material basis for many immaterial opinions posing as expository ejaculations of noisy nonsense, twaddle, and other wu wu waste management emissaries that are well outside my immediate sphere of influence. Now that I have expunged my flapdoodle foliage into the stream I will devour a heaping helping of flapjacks with a good portion of thick syrupy material on top.
ᕦ༼ ~ •́ ₒ •̀ ~ ༽ᕤ
My taste in music can be described as eclectic. As a matter of fact that pretty well describes my taste in just about everything. That being said, in regards to bands specifically; I would be hard pressed to single out bands I hate. It is equally difficult to single out bands I love. There is a wide variety and genre of songs I love, done by various and varied bands in many styles. But there are songs done by bands I like that I grew sick of due to the endless play rotation on AM radio stations.
♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩
Now with streaming music and a well placed subscription I am given the random access algorithm that I have been waiting for my whole life. Good for me. Bad for bands livelihoods. But I keep finding new music and music from past eras that I missed. I keep discovering many old bands that are new to me but old and passe to others. Best of all I am no longer stuck with an album or CD with only one or two songs I like.
♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩
Now with a few keystrokes it seems I can find even the most obscure band or artist from the distant past, so I can joyously relive the memories or wonder what the heck I was thinking at the time. Either way they sure don’t make em like that any more.
♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩
For good or for bad, here we are.
♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩
escapism is
all well and good but it will
get you in the end
there is no escape
from the past but there is no
future there either
ᕦ(ಠ_ಠ)ᕤ
In the world I was born into
There were rules handed down
From all the people around
No moaning
No crying
No sniveling
Toughen up
Suck it up
Pick yourself up
No blood
No broken bone
No doctor needed
Shake it off
Walk it off
Don’t be a big baby
Nobody likes a whiner
Were they
Was I
Was the world
Off it’s rocker
Or on it?
The sun rises and I PORT into my fancy binary ciphering machine for my morning imPORT input stream. Download all the compiled dreams and extraneous bytes of the nonsense my fleshy skull soft drive gleaned through it’s sensor array the day before and collate that which may be imPORTant and that which can be ignored, with the disclaimer and knowledge that I do so at my own peril. When on the lookout PORT side it’s usually the starboard side that gets you. After exPORT I gather my PORTable combo cipher / adding machine and wander out to the PORT of Chicago for my morning sortie.
A Scroll Threw Life 