Snap snap, click click
With long blonde hair
She strikes a pose
Wearing only underwear.

Zoom zoom, in in
See-through shirts
Cleavage out
Bent over in tiny skirts

Shutter, Shutter
String bikini
Double D's
Wearing her last martini

Flash flash, say cheese
Pearly whites, sapphire eyes
A touch of pride
That she can compromise

Snap snap, click click
Internet access for every whore
Skinny, skin, skin, skin, skin, skin
What is it about them you adore?

Tags: "bad poetry", poetry, silly

About a year ago, a wart decided to make its home at the bottom of my foot. It was flat and round. Several weeks later, it invited it's wart friend over to my foot and they had a party. Party of two. On my foot.

I get a pedicure once every three of four weeks. The friendly *Asian ladies have always commented on the warts, scraped the warts with a metal spatula-like thing, buffed the warts using what looked like a mini cheese-grater, and even used scissors and sharp-edged metal tools to cut the warts. They were still there, bigger than ever, and drinking pina coladas on my foot.

I bought a product to freeze them out. Apparently, they like to drink frozen drinks on the bottom of my foot but they don't want to reside in it. Unfortunately, I disliked the feeling on my foot and saw no results. These suckers were resilient.

Had I not been terrified, I would go to the wart doctor and *poof* they'd be gone. Unfortunately, I don't like to see a doctor for anything. Unless I am dying. Or excessively itching in a profuse manner. That's a post for a different day. Regardless of which, these warts weren't fatal so I wasn't worrying (and thus being a worry wart...ah-ha-ha) about them.

A few days ago, I decided to give Dr. Scholl's Clear Away Wart Remover a try. They are a medicated pad filled salicylic acid. Small circular stickers with a pad to stick over it to keep it in place. So far, so good...I think. The wart and area around it are puffy like a puffer fish. It has turned white and carries a slight resemblance to cauliflower. On my foot. Yummy. The medicated pads themselves kind of make my foot smell like old french fries. Yummy? In these times, it's just a good thing I don't have a foot fetish. I'm not sure if anyone sane would enjoy licking puffy cauliflowered french fries.





*Why are the nail places predominately run by Asian ladies? And men? I truly have never witnessed any different.

One day in second grade, my class was being particularly boisterous. Out of the blue, I let out a big sigh and without thinking said, "ya'll are gonna make me lose my mind".

The response was enough to turn anybody's frown upside down. Without any direction from me or my assistant, all 26 of my seven and eight year old students replied in unison, "up in here, up in here."

We've been out of school for four weeks. I miss them.

Tags: fun, memories, teaching

Write me a love letter
Using your blue ink pen
On a pink post-it note
Every now and again.

Scribbling secrets
Red, yellow, green, blue
Crayola crayons
Purple marker too.

Pass me your masterpiece
While toasting us poptarts
Breakfast sweets, treats, then sex
You are my ace of hearts.

If the crayons break
And the pen dries up
Send me an e-mail
Just to say wazzzzzuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup! (like the old beer commercial);)

Tags: "bad poetry", fun, poetry, silly

I often drop lettuce on the table or worse, on the floor beneath it. Romaine, baby spinach, and other greenery covered in a creamy sauce sentenced to the land of smush and sweepsville all due to the careless mistake of a certified klutz.

The napkin is always delicately folded in my lap, then forgotten. Napkin Amnesia. It too, often finds a new home near my feet. This opens up an additional square unit for falling particles to settle. A previously white dress suddenly acquires a few polka dots. Hott with the double t? I think not.

The truth of the matter is that I'm a mess. Whether it be spills that I just can't seem to deflect, poles that I so gracefully find myself jetting into, or negative spaces that I somehow end up splattering through, I always manage to serve up a dish of disaster with dishevelment on the side.

A true calamity. Jane had nothing on me.

Tags: me

Yeah, I have too much free time on my hands.

If at first you don't succeed, try try again.

...Unless you are an insect. An insect flying into a light bulb. If this is the case and you happen to survive such an incident, you should definitely consider yourself lucky not to be fried. Or trapped between the metal contraption containing the light source mentioned above. Smushville and electrocution. Close call. Chalk it up to a lesson well learned...everyone (even bugs) have to draw the line somewhere.

Tags: analogies, silly, thoughts

Michael Jackson commentary below the cut. This may be offensive to some, please don't watch if you were in love with MJ...or are easily offended.
( Read more... )

Tags: news, people, video blog, youtube

At 8:16 this morning, I was skedattling out the door. The conference for nerdy teachers who prefer problem solving over poolside frozen beverages was scheduled to begin in 44 minutes. Said conference was 65 miles away. Do the math: I’m late. Luckily, I have my super-hero mobile, Betty. Go Betty, go!

Along the way, Betty had to practice the art of quick thinking (yes, she thinks) and dodge a barrier. A slow moving barrier. Betty wasn’t dodging any bullets, bombs, children, or even flying rhinoceroses. Betty was dodging a turtle.

Dressed in camo, Mr. Turtle was taking his time. Brown and green speckled, head pointed a bit past his shield, he was ready to take on the world. The world on U.S. Highway 264 with cars blazing by.

The superhero in me wanted to stop and save that poor turtle. But even superheroes can go splat. I have faith that armed with all his equipment, Mr. Turtle was just fine (just like Mary J).

This isn’t the first turtle that required quick thinking, swerving, and changing of plans. In fact, turtles crossing the road have become quite the frequent sight in my travels. This begs the question: Why did the turtle cross the road? My answer: The chickens started a cult filled with hard-shelled followers.

Tags: betty, story

I'm the hamburger, not the fries.
I don't come on the side. The side comes with me;
no substitutions please.
I'm juicy. I'm tastee (yes with two e's).
I'm satisfying and golly,
I even come with cheese.

Tags: "bad poetry", analogies, poetry, relationship stuff