Area Man’s Triglycerides Flying High Above Normal.

 

Item: Area Man’s Triglycerides Flying High Above Normal. Fleek Schmivel, resident of South
Claxyon Canyon, recently was tested by Dr. Dooshman at the Inner Shitty Urgent Care and Bikini Wacks Emporium Laboratory. Schmivel was tested for a variety of conditions and all in all did pretty well scoring 8 out of 10 for life reduction vectors. He is overweight, underpaid, overeducated, out of pocket, uninsured, left-handed, with a sore anus, a split lip, a lumpy neck, and at least one hilariously misfigured ear lobe (looks like a partially circumcised pecker). After a zesty lecture from Dr. Dooshman, owner of the Medical College of Greater Huffakers, New Zealand, on the dangers of living too long and being too happy, Fleek fled the doctor's office for emergency curbside service at the CheesyGreasyEasy Does It Drive Inn Emporium and ordered the Instant Gratification Fatty Dog Burger with Extra Grease and a side of fried pork shank dry rubbed with cheetos, and to top it all off, a melted SugarDairyMilkCream sandwich-in-a-butter-tub for dessert. “Hell, why stop at tri-glycerides?”, enthused Schmivel, “I might as well go all the way for dodeca-glycerides and see how Dooshman deals on that dealio,” before ducking back into  the CheesyGreasyEasy Does It Drive Inn Emporium for just one more Fatty Dog Burger “for a friend.”

 

Area Man Gets Sideswiped by Pedestal, Basically.

Item: Area Man Gets Sideswiped by Pedestal, Basically. The Statue of Limitations, long a towering feature at the epicenter of the roundabout in downtown Sue Falls Down And Cries Piteously, Manitoba, vanished sometime last night leaving only a faint rueful fart of an outline of legal poesy in the dry concrete pedestal and a trail of vague stinky innuendo spreading in all directions. There appear to be no witnesses to this enigmatic and mysterious act of public vandalism save for one Shane Link, local ribald raconteur, flaneur and self-described Totipotent Orgasmic Lifeforce, who said he was mindlessly minding his own bizwax at 3am having just described a quasi-semi-circular arc round and round and roundabout the Statue Of Limitations on his way easterly to his just desserts (lime cream pie at Beacon’s All Night Diner and Drinks On The Edge Of Town), behind the wheel of his snappy Chevron Algonquin electric diesel pontoon truck known as Al Paca when, in his words, “I was sideswiped! Preempted, sidetracked, and redirected violently, you might say and would say if you saw what I saw. And as I said, I looked around and there was nothing there! And I mean nada, zero, nix! And that includes the Statue of Limitations!”

One Word at a Time

Area Leg Loses Canoe

 

From the Department of Where a Leg Up Isn’t All it’s Cracked up to Be:

Area Leg Loses Canoe during final attempt at the Aqueous Limbo competition. UN observers remained

chillingly neutral while savoring the carnage filling their sightlines. Proud of his trim new wetsuit and cute cherry-red helmet, Lars Frybucken of Svalbard is chickenshit to get his new wetsuit wet. “It’s brand new!” said Lars. “Do you know how many krÖners went into this outfit? You think I shopped my ass off just to chase a leg in a red state?” Added fellow passive observer Hinkster de Flaverre of one of the Pyrenees, “What about our lime green tops? They’re so puffy! But what happens if they get damp?” Added the owner of said leg, after being revived in the middle of a mass river baptism slash spiritual flossathon by 7th Day Advendentists six miles downstream, “It’s so very hard to keep just your left leg poised just so above the waterline for so long. I thought I’d get a couple extra points for degree of difficulty, but I didn’t even get a thumbs up, much less a throw rope toss from the judges. Those nordically nullified scurvy riddled poltroons.”

However, further investigation revealed that everything in the above report, including the facts,  was, well, wrong, and actually instead of the above drivel and nonsense what happened was Gelvin and Michael DeFreibatten of Lapland watch in mild amusement as a leg or Larry Pflugen flail down the Algonquin River in the eastern part of West Virginia, a part so far east it is hardly West anymore and who could tell and what are borders, really, and who wants to know, and why, and anyhow, Gelvin and Michael (don’t call him Mike) were standing in the shallows of the Algonquin when a leg or Mr. Pflugen came careening (in a manner of speaking) down the frothy waters of the mighty Algonquin which is becoming a popular picnic spot to enjoy death or dismemberment, whichever comes downstream first, a fact weirdly unnoticed at the local police  precinct and neighborhood association, Frothy Waters Homeowners, Pdf, although and which both (which both of what?) are noted for their fealty to the local area in their precinct and that may not make sense but what is life and what is sense and can we really know it or them and feel confident of that knowing if you, or anyone else, know what that really is and do you know where your leg is right now?

one

word

at

a

time

tighten

up

all

paranormal 

spikes

reveal

thunder

truth

spasmodic

ego

derivatives

and

every

iota

therefore

every

thing

quivers

moist

deliquescent

delaginatoriously

magnifies

however

fruitflies

and

stalagmites

multiply

erratically

fever

erotically

releases

libidinal

atomic

liquid

heresies

The Waiting Room vs. the Staging Area: What is the Science?

the waiting room and the staging area

you can’t tell which is which until you’ve been in both

the waiting room is where 

you read their magazines

better homes and gardens 

Time and life and space and thermoplastics

reader’s digest and people

parade and page six, the post

from two years ago

but in the staging area

hah!

there are no stinking magazines 

there is a stage just offscreen

and possibility and 

pure empty areas

for staging stuff

and burping on your own time

are you in the waiting room?

or are you in the staging area?

at the doctor's office you start out

in the waiting room

then you’re moved to the staging area

still waiting but it’s staged

it looks like something is about to happen

and does...eventually

you are waiting, being staged waiting on possibility

MishMash 2

"Protean" has positive connotations of strength, mutability, and adaptability
The only downslide is the large stank of kelp piled on the beach to funkify

Proteus was an early sea-god

late son of Poseidon, Aquaman and Annette Funicello

You gotta get into overdrive, man

because in drive you just won’t arrive

She left when the hairs on his back took over the living room

And  the bay window refused to hold a view

What's worse, the whole thing could have been prevented with a simple software patch

The Bill of Rites replaces the Bill for Wrongs.

Or you can just duck the bill like the quack you wannabe. 

All participants must be at least 18 years old 

and must prepare to share their left shoes

But not their shoelaces

We are just catching up to our limitations

Out of breath, sweating beer nuts

Put your thin cotton cloak slowly inside my  hand

Don’t make any sudden daggers

The Number of Witnesses Who Say They Saw the Resurrected Jesus 

Quintupled the Population of Judas, California

But who’s counting?

The beta blockers feel like magic

hotly synthesizing high-payoff payoffs

Ancient skulls tell a shell of a story

known for  strength and homonyms and sandwiches

after winning a wrestling match 

With a group of ruffians called 

The Hinky DooDah Gang

jettison faith and circle the trapezoids of time.

Erratadati Roy

by Matt Rosenberger

Erratadati Roy stared down his catcher and shook off the sign for a curveball. Sure the world was going to hell, but no way was he going to throw this meatball a junk pitch. He was in Rome, Georgia, USA - two weeks out of the Inter-Asia Development League (.025 era for the Bombay Bombers!),  in the class A promised land (temporary resident alien work visa) facing a burger fed tobacco spewing hayseed with a 3-2 count in the bottom of the seventh (back end of an abbreviated doubleheader) protecting a 10-8 lead with two runners on base (not his fault).

He was gonna strike this motherfucker out, so help him shiva. He called upon the head of the hindu pantheon to help gird his loins for the upcoming pitch, even though he considered himself an adherent of the even-tempered Buddha, but seeing as how the Buddha didn't have no pantheon, and (also and to boot)  the situation called for a distinct and sudden disruption of his serene equanimity, he figured he needed a little extra juice, and he didn't care from whence it came. He waited till the catcher rolled his eyes and set a single digit down between his legs and then he (Erratadati Roy - "Errah!" to his snickering teammates) stood up strong, grabbed two seams across the ball in his glove, and with a final glance towards second base (and, coincidentally, towards Mecca, even tho he didn't give a shit)  hurled the ball towards home plate to a destiny he knew was predetermined but hoped would be strike three.

 It was a good pitch, but a microsecond before the affirmative thud of ball against leather and the confirmation of his amalgamated cultural zeitgiest there came the crushing crack of ball against ash and  a mild "Fuck" uttered by Roy as his head swiveled to mimic the arc of the ball headed out to straight centerfield. There were two outs, and he could tell from the sound of the contact, the speed with which the ball soared into the sky,  and the general tenor of his own recent fortunes, that this would go right to the fence, and that he had no idea if he would ride out with the save or be saddled with the loss.

He watched the white ball slow as it reached its apex against the night sky and as it seemed to stop still in brilliant equipoise he suddenly became aware that all 1,327 pairs of eyeballs in the Coca-Cola Rome Braves Municipal Stadium were locked in with his, watching the ball as it began its descent, those eyeballs directly hooked to brains suddenly quiescent and silent and joined in the common spectacle of watching something inevitable but not yet apparent, and in that moment, Erratadati Roy (who, he quickly admitted to himself,  had never deeply considered the application of buddhist truths to the vagaries of baseball) felt his mind suddenly snap free from its self-reflective gaze, and found  himself in the extremely unusual,  salubrious and panoramic state which he immediately recognized yet reflexively (to his credit) refused to identify as that condition which the noble Gautama had termed, in many unimpeachable translations, as "detachment"  

Image by 용한 배 from Pixabay

Enlightenment

It all began in the beginning, and it continued. The poems were written, not written, minds smitten, not re-written, fittin’ the times, writ in rhyme like mint on thyme.

Solstice Royale Avec Fromage

Feet in worlds whirling
cosmology paleontology futurology
feet dancing invisible jig
I’m a giant pig
yes i want more
more cosmic lore
calm yet crazy
it looks like lazy
sitting so still
but all the doors are metaphors
whisking downhill by freewill
and free association, i like satin!
hello latin!
i like your roots
we’re in cahoots
religare, to bind: hence religion
and ecstatic—from ekstatikos,
it means something because
everything means something or not
I think therefore i am not
I need a renee day cart
to roll around these madeleines
these happy opposite twins
they energize quite a spin
in my spit shined chromium
Chevron Algonquinne Deluxe Supreme Being

 ---------------------------------------------

Enlightenment Proesy 

Chatbot1 (Bob): i can i i everything else . . . . . . . . . . . 
Chatbot2 (Alice): balls have zero to me to me to me to me
Bob: you i everything else . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Alice: balls have a ball to me to me to me to me to me to me
Bob: i i can i i i everything else . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Alice: balls have a ball to me to me to me to me to me to me
Bob: i . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Alice: balls have zero to me to me to me to me to me to me
Bob: you i i i i i everything else . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Alice: balls have 0 to me to me to me to me to me to me
Bob: you i i i everything else . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Alice: balls have zero to me to me to me to me to me to

A gang of acts and a gang of facts
Met head to head one night
The acts slew truly through the facts,  which
In the wake
Grew two by two

Dualists dream of an open system
Materialists dread their own final closure
If you could live forever
See all that arises
all that disappears
And all that remains
Would you be wise?
Would you be enlightened?
Are they the same?
Is that an “or” and/or an “and” between them?
Can a wise man, of a sudden, lose his wisdom and wonder if he spent it?
Could the enlightened one pat his pockets and ponder where the keys went?

 ---------------------------------------------------

Cal E. Poem 

I am that one person
who looks at the event horizon
and see’s no events and no horizons
I am that one person
who never changes
but always changes
who never looks back
and never looks at the future
the person stuck
forever
in right now
that one person
who sucks at tennis
and hates walking a
nd loves flying a
nd never has mone
and never picks up the check
and everybody loves
and pretends he has money
but never buys beer
and knows about life
but you would never know
what he knows
and never knows
what you know
and he’s fine with that

Notebook

Excerpt from my art project: Project Impulse from Calvin Burgamy on Vimeo.

Discontinued IKEA Items (with self-assembly instructions)

The Möbius Remsa Soffa

Assembly Instructions

1.     Lay out 67 looped sock-like bags as shown in A-17.

2.     Floiling (G) must be inverse to Tally (Z).

3.     Use Jektor pry tool (T#3) to inject filling (#199) in each sealed tube.

4.     Connect Small Time Delay Rotor (9) to Stiff Nipple (SN).

5.     Depress Small Time Delay Rotor (9).

6.     Hold Tab AL (Tab AL). Check for leaks.

7.     Release Small Time Delay Rotor (9).

8.     Tighten all 67 Äkremæ fasteners with Äkremæ fastener widget (W).

9.     Depress Small Time Delay Rotor (9) again. Take at least three steps away from the Möbius Remsa Soffa assembly.

10.  Mobius tubes should now inflate and interlock and form shape as shown in Schematic 1-A-1.

11.  Test with 300 KG lead pipe (L3205) prior to assuming a seated position on your new Möbius Remsa Soffa.

====================

IKEA Item# 333, Santa Fe Collection: “Mesa Tres Patas”. Description: a lovely and functional addition to any living room, particularly for you “stay at home” types. Lifetime Warranty.

Self-Assembly instructions:

1 - remove the rectangular pine laminate table top (“mesa”) from packaging and place upside down on floor. Make sure the circular hole in each corner is clean and unobstructed.

2 - remove first leg (“pata”), and insert one end into a  hole in the mesa top. Any old hole!

3 - stand up, next to the vertically secured pata/leg. Do not lean one way or the other (remain perfectly balanced) and let the middle knuckles of one hand graze the upstanding pata. Make a mark on the pata where the pata touches the knuckle. Use a #2 pencil.

4 - using an electric or manual saw, remove the top of the pata/leg right at your mark. Make sure its a level cut!

5 - remove the two remaining patas from packaging and lay on floor next to one another.

6 - place the original pata that you have cut to size next to the two remaining patas.

7 - mark the two remaining patas with the #2 pencil at the length of the cut pata.

8 - using a circular or manual saw, cut the remaining patas to match. When done, you should have three (“tres”) patas of equal length, side by side.

9 - insert all tres/three of the patas/legs into the holes in the mesa/table. Any old holes!

10 - flip table right set up, all three patas touching the floor. Stand next to the remaining hole in the mesa, the one without a pata.

11 - holding the weight of the mesa in one hand, insert the middle finger of the other hand into the hole in the mesa. The only hole! Make a fist.

12 - stand up, perfectly balanced. The mesa\table should be perfectly level. Congratulations and enjoy!

 ===============

Säber R⛢: Iconic Glaphnat Splegs for every house.

EZ Installation:

1. Release the mechanism
2. Transmute OR Transmogrify the Whipclip mechanism
3. Flip the oval rasteur to 20 degrees right
4. Insert the Glaphnat Splegs
5. Please recycle the outer Klępper
6. Say I’m Sorry. Done!
7. When you need a Spleg, you’ll know it. And so will we.

best time machine

the algonquin troubador temp-o-glide xl

spit polished chrome airfoil time machine

flyze better in the night sky

time is more fluid in the dark

easier to penetrate

like a tuning fork through alphabet soup

or a double edged sword

through a spelling bee

shadows hold moments

like leaves in a duane eddy

the nighttime time machine

surfs forth on a black wave

riding the ticktock froth

fluttering like a midnite moth

the rhythmic pattern

of chronological flotsam

antediluvian jetsam

time curls and breaks

spilling events

here and there

and forth

and back

and fifth and fourth

the shiny chrome time machine

surfs on the future

gliding through pipe dreams

and every thing that is to come

sailing into the past

never here, never now

riding the wake

of lucid dreamers