There is nothing more pathetic than a half-inflated Mylar balloon.

Sure it comes with the best intentions:  “Get Well”, “Congratulations”, or even “Over the Hill”… but that is where it ends.  Sometime later, usually around 2am, reality (i.e. gravity and osmosis) take their toll and sucker punch the little fellow.  Instead of soaring high in streams of fluorescent light, the balloon soon takes on the characteristics of a drunken uncle as it lurches and leers in the night.

The next thing you know, it is morning and the balloon is now down to your level.  Whatever ailment or accomplishment has been too much for it, and now it is looking to share your misery.  Failing that it is just happy with knocking over your orange juice.

Or maybe it’s the drugs….

 

Tribute

Long time ago me and my brother Kyle here,
we was hitchhikin' down a long and lonesome road.
All of a sudden, there shined a shiny demon... in the middle... of the road.
And he said:

"Play the best song in the world, or I'll eat your soul."

Well me and Kyle, we looked at each other,
and we each said... "Okay."

And we played the first thing that came to our heads,
Just so happened to be,
The Best Song in the World, it was The Best Song in the World.

Look into my eyes and it's easy to see
One and one make two, two and one make three,
It was destiny.
Once every hundred-thousand years or so,
When the sun doth shine and the moon doth glow
And the grass doth grow...

Needless to say, the beast was stunned.
Whip-crack went his whoopy tail,
And the beast was done.
He asked us: "Be you angels?"
And we said, "Nay. We are but men."
Rock!

This is the greatest and best song in the world... Tribute.

To dream, perchance to drink

So I had that dream again last night.  You know the one where you are laying on the deck of a ship, warm sun and Caribbean breezes surrounding you?  No?  Too bad.

 In my dream there was a cold drink of rum and fruit parentage in my hand just begging to be drank.  Then as soon as I would finish one, a nice man with a thick island accent would ask me if I would like another.  In front of me was a two-story tall big-screen TV showing me the play0ffs, while all around me there were scantily-clad people playing with inflated balls.

 Suddenly I woke up and realized that it wasn't a dream!  I really was basking in the Caribbean sun, drinking froo-froo drinks and ogling young girlies in bikinis!

 Then I realized what I was thinking about happened last week, and I was back in Pennsyltucky again.

 Crap.

Avast Ye Mateys!

In Waterworld (not the piece of suck movie featuring Kevin Costner, but the place where sentient boats rule the waters) heralds were sent to call all boats together so that a new leader could be decided.

Soon boats were gathering from all corners of the globe.  In glorious boat-dances and waving of small, colorful flags, they communicated to each other their desires of a new leader.  From quiet coves to cacophonious bays, debate began on what qualities a good leader would possess.

What are the qulaities of a good leader?  Well obviously they would need to be of a regal stature and lineage.  Able to shoulder the great burdens it must bear, but still able to aways push forward regardless of adversity.  Oh, and it would need to be in the Caribbean during January 2009.

So after much debate the following qualities were decided:

Gross tonnage -- 116,000
Length -- 951 feet
Beam -- 118 feet
Draft -- 26 feet
Passenger Decks -- 15
Cabins (total) -- 1,557
Maximum speed -- 22 knots

I present to you, the new Crown Princess of Waterworld!

Okay...  so it's not the biggest or the baddest.  In fact it is really only an "average" representation of a modern luxury cruise ship.  But since my butt was located on deck 8 basking in Caribbean sunshine, and yours wasn't...  

I win.

Evil

bonzai2
Originally uploaded by ArgentLupe

Sure he looks cute, but under those feathers beats the blackened-heart of a merciless killer! Cold, starting, beady, black, alien eyes piece you to your soul while a razor-sharp beak darts menacingly close toward any soft, vulnerable parts you may have.

Even now he watches me. He pretends innocence as he preens himself and plays with his satanic birdie toys. He has my wife completely under his control, but I know the true horror that he hides.

Soon he will turn his monstrous gaze toward me and destroy my soul as he has already begun to destroy my mind.

I only hope that someone reads this in time to save themselves against the feathered menace.