depression

comes and goes
ebbs and flows
the Black Dog
marking his
territory
hikes his leg
and
pisses
on my head


© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

re-Morse code

Samuel Finley Breeze Morse
(1791-1872)
may have
painted landscapes
built the electric
telegraph
and even
invented
a simple
binary code
to go
with it.
But what
about all
those
poor souls
needing saving
and
not having
a
very simple
means to say:
Sorry...

di-di-di-dah-dah-dah-di-di-dit
and not
di-di-dit dah-dah-dah di-di-dit




© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

10 days to kickoff (and counting...)

Fumbling towards mediocrity
only 10 more days until
the season awakes...


© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

14 days to kickoff (and counting...)

Hope springs eternal
and in Autumn
a middle-aged man's
thoughts turn to
football.

One can feel it in the air
as the nights grow cooler
and the days grow shorter-
the smell of pigskin
is everywhere.

I strike a bargain
with the world
over a hallowed
123 day season:
the words
FOOT
&
BALL
tattooed across
tattered knuckles
of my hands.

From every playground
(2 hand touch,
below the waist)
to every nerf thrown across
every Street
(tackle)
This is my time,
when I arise.
The cheerleaders
on the sidelines
are my nuns
and this, my friends,
this is
my church

© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

15 days to kickoff (and counting...)

One of my favorite memories of the Raiders:

Lester Hayes #37
Cornerback
Premier shutdown corner for 10 seasons.

He walked like he could talk some trash but he really couldn't
as he was a renowned stutterer.
(someone, somewhere has to have a copy of the interview after SuperBowl XV where he painfully stutters through what seems like 5 minutes of locker room questions.
NFL Films REALLY needs to open their vaults for this one.)

But what most fans remember is the man had so much Stick'Em on his hands, jersey,
helmet, jock, that it truly appeared as if he bathed in it.
I remember watching a game against the Dolphins where Bob Griese threw a pass, it was deflected, and the ball hit Hayes jersey and stuck to it,
BEFORE he even brought his hands up!

Man, those were the days...


© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

16 days to kickoff (and counting...)

One word:

Diddley-poo


(Thanks to Rich for the inspiration on this one.)

© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

I agree, I am with you,

You're preaching to the choir-boy.

© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

19 days to kickoff (and counting...)

Will August never end?
Will this season never begin?
Last night I was thinking of all the wonderful
what-if's that make the NFL so exciting...

1. What if when the Browns moved to Baltimore they kept the name?

• the Baltimore Browns

2. What if Eugene Robinson hadn't been busted for a blow job before SuperBowl XXXIII?

• Atlanta Falcons' World Champions

3. Did pantyhose lead to the early demise of Joe Namath's knees?

4. If the Saints move to Los Angeles, will they become the Angels or remain the Saints ?

• clearly angels are more powerful being able to fly and drop some heavenly bombs, just image Gabriel's (not Roman) arm.

© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

Another failed small business idea

Concept restaurant:
The German Oven


Welcome to The German Oven Restaurant! With over 14 years of serving the finest in German foods in Atlanta! We have a large menu featuring Salads, Soups, Sandwiches, Bratwursts, and German Beer. We also have Burgers, Steak, and a long list of appetizers. Our Fried Zucchini strips and Garlic Bread have become synonymous with The German Oven. We offer a lunch menu Monday thru Saturday till 4:00 p.m. featuring lighter portions than our dinner menu. A Kid's Menu is available with a selection that will appease any taste.

© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

spork

I don't know who invented it but I bet the bastard is
a goddamm zillionaire.
Not to mention a design genius.

I first used a spork at the KFC with the rotating chicken bucket
across the Savannah river in North Augusta.
Whenever I think of South Carolina,
I think of sporks.

© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

One day

...you'll know
what's inside my mind.

...you'll know
how much I need.

...you'll know
when you are right.

...you'll know
how you are wrong.

...you'll know
when the fat lady has gasped
her last bar-room song.

Until then
you can
Ripley's believe it
or not.
Simple statement of
matter-of-fact,
like shadows
on the Cave's wall.

Not harshly made,
rather
gently proffered,
one prisoner
to another.
Meager rations
for sure,
locked in knowledge
that my
slender pen
can never pierce
the reality
thought balloon
inside your head

© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

my new band

Last week my friend Art Bender
and I were out lounging by the pool and
we decided that we wanted to form a
Southern fried Rock cover band:
Mullet Hatchet

Tour dates to follow...

© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

Urinal

So I go to the mens room today
in my office building
to take a piss
and as I am standing there
on the heights
of mount Olympus
taking a heroic
leak for all the ages
I notice something
different.
Instead of the white pine
deodorizing blocks
that keep the 4th floor mens room
smelling like my gandmother's closet
they have been replaced with
little black piss mats.
And on the little black piss mats is
the following message:

Swisher
Just Say No To Drugs
1-800-444-4441

O.K.
1. Is nothing sacred? Can a man not take a piss without advertising intruding?
2. Wouldn't an advertisement touting a cream for jock itch or even condoms be more effective?
3. If this is such an important message, are we really honoring it by unrinating all over it?




© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

I like my women...

like I like my beer:

cheap
pale
watered-down
and domestic.


© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

Busy as hell....

Work has been a bitch and kept me away from recording my blog thoughts.
Anyway, I know this is so blah blah blah
But here's an old favorite to get you through the next week while I am working my ass off...

Enjoy the Jope
and mourn him...





© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

nostril

While I try
as much
as possible
to resist
the blogger mindset
that every moment
of my life
is amazing
and must be documented
and recorded
for posterior-ity
sometimes even
the Great and Powerful
Joe succumbs
to his massive ego.
And so....
I pulled
a
personal best
record
2.5 inch
nose hair
out of my
right nostril
this morning.

© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

Life is good and it only gets bitter...

Insert your own life here,
if you dare.



© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press

I had to see a man about a horse, a miniature pony really, but it turned out to be a brown mule...

Insert your own punch line here,
if you dare.



© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press