The Most Romantic Poem of All Time – With fleas, pee and rabid dogs


This is my attempt at the most romantic poem of all time:

My love itches like a flea

It fills me like beer tinged pee

That I’m in love is not news

It leaks from my feet to squelch in my shoes

—————————————–

My love is like a rabid dog

It pours from my mouth like slobbery fog

My mind is crazed with love tonight

I’ll find random people and bite bite bite

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My love is like upturned trash

It came into my life with a mighty crash

There’s dripping bits of love debris

I grab it all for me me me

—————————————–

My love is like a plate of peas

It curdles in my heart and turns to cheese

With every taste of my love cheddar

It just gets better and better

Photographs and Stuffed Animal Zombie Attacks


I’ve tried my hand at photography, as it seemed simple enough. You just point and shoot, sort of like murder but without the long prison sentence. Besides, I’m not really cut out for murder. I can’t keep a secret, like the fact that my friend Rob has an extra middle toe. (Sorry, Rob. Don’t worry, no one’s going to start calling you “Toey.” Well, except me.) Plus, I’m barely able to kill time without setting up a memorial service for all those murdered minutes.

So, I figured I could grab my cellphone and take a few pictures, then watch as people start cheering my artistic genius, just like they did for my “Cow Fetuses Need Love Too,” music video. (Well, I think they did. The praise I get is a sort of silent praise, as I assume people are awed into silence by my work. The quieter things are, the more impact I know I had.)

Without further ado, (or is it a do? I’ve always wondered about that. Maybe the term references an a-line hairdo and I just haven’t realized it, especially since I have no idea what an a-line hairdo is) here are some pictures sure to make your heart contract with wonder. (If you heart contracts too much, be sure to get proper medical attention.)

I call this “Corner of the TV.” I was trying to take a picture of a really nice landscape, but I was a little too close and just ended up with a blurry piece of the corner of the screen. So, I’ll just say that this is a statement about popular media and how it blurs our perceptions. Or maybe memories and how they’re…. screen… like.

This one is my attempt at a photographic still-life. I decided to take a picture of a single orange surrounded by several fruit that are slightly off camera. I created a story for this. The middle orange got drunk at a family get together and demanded a photo, but the other fruits were embarrassed to be seen with him (or her, it’s hard to tell with fruit) and made sure their faces were hidden. Well, they made sure whatever passed for faces on produce were hidden. This was my attempt of gritty realism.

These are called Open Spring and Closed Spring. I was inspired by my post about taking a vacation in your bathroom and decided to show the beauty of sparkling water, even if it’s at the bottom of your John.

I accidentally got my finger in this shot and figured, why not name it Finger and claim it was intentional? Oh wait, I shouldn’t have said that. This was intentional, not a mistake at all. Fingers are under-appreciated.

This next one is a picture of the peephole on my front door. I really like this one, so I’m going to call it Joe and print it out as a pretend pet.

Finally, there’s one I like to call Stuffed Animal Zombie Attack. This doesn’t have any artistic merit, I just think that the idea of stuffed animals turning into zombies is kind of awesome.

That’s all for now. I know, you’ve had a taste and now want more, like the photography equivalent of a sample of cocaine. I’d advise you to indulge in my photos, since they won’t destroy your nasal passages, unless you shove them up your nose. And trust me, photos never quite look the same once they’ve been shoved into your sinuses.

Strange Dream


I had the strangest dream last night.

First, I met a snail.

He said he was a magical snail, but I didn’t believe him. He looked more like a freaky dude with a balloon for a head. “Come to me Car,” he said, as if knowing my name would make me trust a talking snail. So, I told him to shove it and left him slowly trying to catch up to me.

Then I met a woman. Well, I met a woman’s head. That hung in the sky and had hair that grew into mountains and a freaky snake boy.

I couldn’t tell if she was supposed to be a representation of my mother or just all the spicy chicken wings I had last night, but I didn’t want to find out, especially not with the freaky eye floating next to her. She didn’t even say anything. She just floated there with her crazy hair and smiled serenely.

Well, I thought this dream couldn’t get any weirder, but then I met… well, whatever it was.

 

Creepy faces made by a bird puking out a string and one of the faces puking out what made the bird. I mean, my dreams don’t always make sense, but these were strange, even for me. The faces started singing about the stuffed bear I had when I was five and the bird asked me for a smoke. Well, I answered by waking the hell up.

So that ends the retelling of my freaking dream. Maybe next time it’ll have killer robots.

Mother’s Recipe for Chocolate Oyster Milkshakes


Mother always loved making milkshakes, but she hated how boring they turned out. Here’s one of her famous recipes that turns the flavors of oyster and chocolate milkshake into a savory treat that will make your head melt (in a good way, unless you don’t enjoy the flavor of oysters and chocolate milkshake together.)

Chocolate Oyster Milkshakes

1 can steamed oysters

1 1/2 cups chocolate ice cream

2 cups milk

Blend oysters in heavy duty blender until thoroughly minced. Add ice cream and milk to blended oyster and blend again until smooth and oyster pieces are evenly distributed throughout mixture. Serve right away in chilled glasses or over ice.

If you find that you do not care for chocolate milkshakes with oyster mixed in, then serve any remaining leftovers to your cat. If you don’t have a cat, box up the remaining leftovers and mail them to a friend. Everyone appreciates a little milkshake in the mail.

Reverse Skydiving


My brother’s a bit of a recluse, so I haven’t really spoken about him much. He was adopted, so he has no twin like the rest of the Johnson clan. And he wishes to remain anonymous in every way, so I will not reveal his name, either here or in my book about the travails of my life.

But I will tell you about his failed attempt at making a reverse skydiving company. His idea was to create a device that could shoot one up in the air and into a waiting airplane. Since normal airplanes don’t hover in the air, my brother tried to get possession of a V-22 Osprey. He called a military surplus store, but they told him that multi-million dollar jets aren’t something they ever have in stock.

So, he borrowed a AgustaWestland AW139 helicopter from my helicopter hoarding cousin Mike. Well, actually he just sort of took it, since Mike had so many of them, he was sure he’d never notice. The plan was to hover the helicopter in the air and launch a person from a cannon, with careful calculations that would send the reverse skydiver safely into the open door of the chopper.

His girlfriend worked at a circus and was able to get him one of those cannons daredevils used and he made a dummy out of old clothing and frozen hams to fine tune the cannon until he hit the sweet spot of cannon to helicopter accuracy. Unfortunately, the very first time he shot Mr. Hamson into the air, he slammed into the helicopter’s blades and sent it spiraling downwards in a fiery ball of steel and cooked pork bits.

Luckily, the helicopter pilot (his girlfriend) managed to bail out and land nearby. The helicopter crashed into an unfinished set for the town’s annual Founder’s Day play, causing tens of dollars worth of damage. (Our town’s really cheap.) My brother paid the town 50 dollars, but he had to pay Mike 20 million for the helicopter, plus 50,000 dollars for the cleanup and removal of metal fragments and ham.

The whole thing wiped out his life savings and had him paying off Mike for years to come. This caused my brother to have a mental breakdown. He now lives in a self made cult, where he’s the only member, giving himself orders all day as he plans for the coming Carpocalypse. (He’s convinced himself I’m the Antichrist and destined to destroy the world.)

James Bond, Godzilla and Epic Candy Battles


I’ve been known to do a few creative things in my day, like turn a bunch of old beer labels into a tuxedo and grow a garden of weeds in my closet. But today I’d like to tell you about my attempts in the visual arts.

First, I’d like to tell you about the independent film I made called The Silly Adventures of James Bond and Godzilla in the Land of Mordor.

A sad story

It’s the tragic story of James Bond’s strong friendship with Godzilla that turned sour after Godzilla betrayed James to a band of Mafia Hobbits. James vowed revenge and chased his former friend all the way to Mordor, where an epic battle ensued.

Unfortunately for me, some kid stole my movie and claimed it as his own. He got what was coming to him, though. It turns out that most people saw my masterpiece as the worst movie to ever be created and the poor film student who stole it payed the price. I hear he’s working at a gas station now.

Well, just because the world wasn’t ready for my genius didn’t mean I gave up. I wrote a play, as a gift for my girlfriend on Valentines Day.

A heartwarming tale

It’s called Sweetopia and tells the heartwarming tale of the Chalkheartians, chalky candy hearts battling for freedom from their oppressors the Trufflians, sinister boxes of chocolate truffles. Through hard work, epic confections battles and the power of cheesy sayings, the Chalkheartians fought their way to independence.

No one stole my play, but I wasn’t able to keep it in production. I opted to turn it into a puppet show and it just took too much work to control the puppets week after week, plus the city became angry after I blocked pedestrian traffic with my performances.

Word of advice: Don’t perform a play in the middle of a sidewalk, especially during the middle of the day. You might get a lot of potential audience members, but most of them just want to get to work.

Cow Fetuses Need Love Too Music Video


I’ve done it! I finally put my precious country song about the lonely road of a cow fetus collector on YouTube!

I hope this will kick start my country music career. I may be from Northern California, but I’m so country, I have my own continent. So, please enjoy my video and I apologize about my voice. If you keep the volume down enough, it won’t peel the paint on your walls, but it may cause small children and animals to wail uncontrollably.

Odd Candies You’re Sure to Love


My mother’s unique cooking has given me a taste for life’s unusual foods. Today, I’d like to talk about some of the unique candies I’ve found over the years. Each candy makes me think of mother and fills my heart with warm memories. I’ve never actually tried any of these, but they sound terrific.

1. Hotlix Butterfly Flower Candy

This candy reminds me of mother’s candied moth bites. It also reminds me of my ex-girlfriend who thought she was a butterfly, but Candy (my fiance) doesn’t appreciate me being reminded of past girlfriends, so I won’t go too much into that.

From what I can tell, there are no actual butterflies in the candy, just a regular worm and flowers. Still, worms are filled with wormy goodness and these candies are far prettier than my mother’s chocolate worm cupcakes. Sorry, Mother. 😦

2. Accoutrements Chum Bucket Candy

Candy that tastes like fish guts? Count me in! The site says they taste disgusting, but I remember mother’s fish gut cakes and they were anything but disgusting.

Mother made us these cakes every birthday. The were just plain chocolate cake with a gooey fish gut center. Mother always told us that if we ate enough fish guts, we’d be able to read the thoughts of underwater creatures. I’m still trying to gain that ability.

3. Pit’r Pat Liver Flavored Cat Breath Fresheners

I know it says that these are for cats, but why should felines have all the fun? If mother ever stopped making her liver suckers, I’d snap these up in a heartbeat.

Liver suckers are like eating liver and onions, just without the onion. Mother loves giving them out as Christmas stocking stuffers.

4. Mo’s Bacon Bar

This is a candy bar you can eat at breakfast with a side of eggs. Mother makes some mean steak tartar chocolate balls, but this is as close as you can get, at least until mother starts selling her creations.

5. Sapporo Beer Drops

My mother never made beer flavored candy, but I tried to once. All I ended up doing was nearly burning my house. You see, I’m not really good at cooking. Word to the wise –

Never use lighter fluid on your range top.

Poem for My Mother


I wrote a poem for my mother today. It’s heartfelt and I hope she likes it.

It took me three hours to draw Mother
My mother

Mother

You’re like no other.

If you were a man, I’d want you for a brother.

If you were a beer, I’d want another.

If you were a wind, you’d be a souther.

If you were a pillow, you would smother.

If you were a choice, I’d say “I’d druther.”

Manny and the Manic Monkeys


Today, I’d like to share a story my mother used to tell me when I was young, called Manny and the Manic Monkeys.

Manny and the Manic Monkeys

One Tuesday, Manny set out to see his Aunt Gretchen. Now Gretchen had a sweet tooth and always appreciated it when Manny brought her some chocolate covered raisins. But on this particular day, Manny got hungry and ate all the chocolate covered raisins. Before he knew it, they were all gone.

Manny was sad. How could he face his aunt without any chocolate covered raisins? Would she understand? Or would she yell at him and call him a toaster, which was a very bad thing to be called in Manny’s family, since toasters stole bread and returned it all burned.

Manny didn’t want to find out. So, he rushed over to a grocery store and tried to buy some chocolate covered raisins. But the store clerk told Manny he needed money to buy the raisins and kicked him out when all he had to offer was a crumpled page of last week’s Reader’s Digest.

Since he didn’t have money and it was too late to go back home and get raisins, Manny decided to head over to the monkey enclosure at the zoo to ask the monkeys if they would grant him a wish. You see, Manny wasn’t all that bright.

The zoo was free to the public on Tuesdays, so Manny didn’t have to pay to get inside, which was good, because as stated before, he was broker than a bald hair tonic salesman. Unless you count his crumpled page of Reader’s Digest, but the rest of the world doesn’t, as unfair as that might seem.

Manny headed into the zoo and straight to the monkey house, where all the little simians were screaming and carrying on and throwing things that are best not mentioned at each other. He picked the monkey house lock, a clever trick his cousin Floyd taught him on one of his many visits home between prison.

The monkeys rushed over to Manny as he climbed into the enclosure. But he never got the chance to ask them if they would be willing to grant him any wishes, because he was too busy being torn apart by mentally unstable monkeys.

The moral of this story: Don’t eat all your aunt’s chocolate covered raisins or you will be eaten alive by monkeys.

Isn’t mother grand?