Sunlight Streaming

Sunlight streaming through my window
Darkness lingers its oily fingers
Skittering them across my spine
Its disappointment still lingers.
But today is another day
I embrace the arms of the sun
Sunlight streaming through my window
Promising adventures yet to come.

b.

Always considered less fashionable,
In your brother’s shadow you must live,
Your body is the classic shape,
But a new face you I can give.
But after 35 years of Father Time,
The jackpot is hard to hit,
Finding the parts in any sort of state,
Is rare as rocking horse shit.
So, eBay was first port of call,
Assembling pieces from here and there,
One piece after frustrating piece,
Gathered with patience and great care.
Sifting through the excrement,
The pretenders and the liars,
The copies and the ripoffs,
And the potential wallet friers.
The over-priced and the perfect,
The ones so nearly missed,
The hunt that goes so very well,
That’s the definition of timeless bliss.
There were 38 pieces needed total,
And using places far and wide,
37 have come together,
And the thirty eighth I have just spied.
Some are pristine and perfect,
Others need polish and a little time,
Others need time with specialists,
To make them look sublime.
But the effort will be well worth it,
Now it’s time for panel and paint,
And your new face will be assembled,
I know I’ll see it and I’ll faint.

a.

a. How about some more capcity?
302 to 383?
We all like more cubic inches,
That can also apply to me.
How about some new extractors?
A new radiator, fan and shroud?
That should get things really pumping,
And make you mean and loud.
A double row timing chain?
High volume oil pump?
A few thousand over-bore,
And a hydralic cam with larger bump?
10mm leads to add some extra spark,
Electronic distributor too?
Larger belt drive to keep things spinning,
So your heart can stay strong and true?
An accelerating intake manifold?
A spacer plate above it too?
That will keep you running strong,
You’ll fly like you’ve never flew.
Is this enough to make yours bigger?
We’ve been together many years,
To help save a long-term friend,
Is enough to move me to tears.

Restoration Plan

What about me do I not like?
a. I’d like it to be bigger.
b. B. My face is not attractive.
c. My body needs attention.
d. I’m not breathing very well.
e. Inside I’m somewhat threadbare.
Why don’t you see my plight?
Why don’t you help me?

Old + Tired = Help

You’re old and getting older,
Your skin is marked and flat,
You’re always tired and wheezing,
I’m not so happy with that.

You’re getting somewhat dated,
Your looks are quite a bore,
You’re lacking a certain zest,
I’m not happy with you any more.

I’ll massage your tired body,
I’ll remove every mark,
I’ll renew your zest for living,
You’ll regain that healthy spark.

I’ll help you to regenerate,
I’ll much time with you spend,
I’ll forge with you a future,
Together with which we’ll spend.

Ho Ho Ho

Bourbon is my staple drink,
Beer comes in close behind,
It depends upon the weather at the time,
And the position in which myself I find.
But sometimes both drinks run out,
And I’m left with what’s near,
And recently this happened to me,
No bourbon, no scotch, no beer.
Kahlua doesn’t do it for me,
Bailey’s not my tipple either,
Port and champagne were also there,
I didn’t really want either.
But nestled at the back of the cabinet,
Filmed delicately in a shroud of dust,
Was some fine aged brandy,
It’s consumption now was a must.
Now, block your ears if you’re offended,
When being over 40 is obscene,
Because some alcoholic beverages,
Make me a sex machine.
So, to cut a long story shorter,
We were soon off to bed,
Thoughts of counting rams and ewes,
Were far from my wretched head.
Charlie said, “This bed smalls like Christmas,”
And I’m far from a dunce,
Replying, “Well, prepare for Santa, baby,
For now all your Christmases will come at once.”

Bits

Blogging is much harder than I thought. It either takes much commitment, or you have nothing in our life, so you blog. In any case, I put bits in when I can, often from scraps of paper, or thoughts that I store away to put up later. Judging by the lack of protestation, no-one cares anyway. 

Emerald Kiss

It's emerald torrents swirl invitingly,
It's surface warm, but leaves me cold,
No-one leaves who enters here,
That's the story that we're all told.
I slide in with no further thought,
The decision now from my hands,
Only one who has known my heartache,
Can ever hope to understand.
My breath is instantly snatched away,
Stolen like a stranger's kiss,
The warmth takes away my reluctance,
And that's something I will not miss.
The flow rushes on unabated,
The torrent cascading with wild glee,
It swirls up and embraces all around it,
And soon washes over me.
I welcome its effervescent fingers,
I roll in its suffocating embrace,
I dream I'm not really drowning,
But lost in my lover's face.
Because now we can be together,
My release has come at a price,
But now we can be together,
But now we can be together.

This one was inspired by the clipped grass shooting out from the mower - it looked like a cascading river. I was going to write a twisted poem about it, leading the reader on to think I was talking about water, when it was about grass. But them the twisted poem got twisted.

A joke

This is a story about a couple who had been happily married for years.

The only friction in their marriage was the husband's habit of farting loudly every morning when he awoke.

The noise would wake his wife and the smell would make her eyes water and make her gasp for air.

Every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping them off because it was making her sick. He told her he couldn't stop it and that it was perfectly natural. She told him to see a doctor; she was concerned that one day he would blow his guts out.

The years went by and he continued to blast them out! Then one Thanksgiving morning as she was preparing the turkey for dinner and he was upstairs sound asleep, she looked at the bowl where she had put the turkey innards and neck, gizzard, liver and all the spare parts and a malicious thought came to her.

She took the bowl and went upstairs where her husband was sound asleep and, gently pulling back the bed covers, she pulled back the elastic waistband of his underpants and emptied the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts.

Some time later she heard her husband waken with his usual trumpeting which was followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic footsteps as he ran into the bathroom. The wife could hardly control herself as she rolled on the floor laughing, tears in her eyes! After years of torture she reckoned she had got him back pretty good.

About twenty minutes later, her husband came downstairs in his bloodstained underpants with a look of horror on his face. She bit her lip as she asked him what was the matter.

He said, "Honey, you were right." "All these years you have warned me and I didn't listen to you."

"What do you mean?" asked his wife.

"Well, you always told me that one day I would end up farting my guts out, and today it finally happened.

But by the grace of God, some Vaseline, and two fingers, I think I got most of them back in."

Life and living

Sometimes we can do two things at once. Like read a report, while waiting for an appointment. Sign letters during a meeting. Exercise while watching the news on TV at night. Listen to a tape on leadership while driving. Do knee bends while brushing your teeth. Plan weekly staff notices or that difficult parent interview in the shower. Be a little creative with your time. Remember that any activity you can double up on saves you time.

Learn to enjoy every minute of your life. Be happy now. Don't wait for something outside of yourself to make you happy in the future. Think how really precious is the time you have to spend, whether it's at work or with your family. Every minute should be enjoyed and savoured.
~ Earl Nightingale ~

I Am A Dinosaur

Recently I was reflecting on matters pertaining to work and the following struck me:

· I come from a different age, where once I was surrounded by similar beings with similar outlooks, but now the ones similar to me are numbered.
· I often lumber through the landscape, creating havoc by my every action, yet sometimes not aware that I am doing so.
· Sometimes I find myself in an environment where I cannot function.
· I consume vast amounts of resources, the outcomes of which range from energy to excrement.
· My presence brings about a number of reactions, ranging from trembling terror to the drawing together of a large number of smaller predators with sharp teeth, who want to rip me apart.
· My environment is changing rapidly – often it feels as if it’s changing faster than I.
· For the most part, kids enjoy anything to do with me, but others find me boring, while others are scared silly by me.
· Occasionally I find myself in a tar pit. So far I’ve been able to get out.
· I need to sleep a lot.
· In 65 million years no-one will really ever understand what I was really like.
· I get the feeling I’m about to be replaced by a different species – small, hairy and warm-blooded.
· One day I’ll be extinct.

Search Strategy

I'm looking for a magazine,
I bought it two weeks past,
But now I cannot find the thing,
I lose such things so fast.
I've looked in the lounge room,
And in the toilet too,
I've checked in the study,
But away that book has flew.
So, I'll employ a new strategy,
And stop looking for the thing,
For often stopping looking,
Enables you to find the bloody thing.
So, I sat down here to type,
And what should I see?
The magazine is right here,
Next to my pc.

Typical.

A joke!

One day, in line at the company cafeteria, Bob says to Stanley behind him,"
My elbow hurts like hell. I guess I better see a doctor."
"Listen, you don't have to spend that kind of money," Stan replies.
"There's a diagnostic computer down at Woolworths.
Just give it a urine sample and the computer'll tell you what's wrong and what to do about it.
It takes ten seconds and costs ten dollars...a lot cheaper than a doctor."

So Bob deposits a urine sample in a small jar and takes it to Woolworths.
He deposits ten dollars, and the computer lights up and asks for the urine sample.
He pours the sample into the slot and waits.
Ten seconds later, the computer ejects a printout:
"You have tennis elbow. Soak your arm in warm water and avoid heavy activity.
It will improve in two weeks."

That evening while thinking how amazing this new technology was,
Jack began wondering if the computer could be fooled.
He mixed some tap water, a stool sample from his dog,
urine samples from his wife and daughter, and masturbated into the mixture for good measure.
Bob hurries back to Woolworths, eager to check the results.
He deposits ten dollars, pours in >his concoction, and awaits the results.

The computer prints the following:
Your tap water is too hard. Get a water softener.
Your dog has ringworm. Bathe him with anti-fungal shampoo.
Your daughter has a cocaine habit. Get her into rehab.
Your wife is pregnant. Triplets. They aren't yours. Get a lawyer.
If you don't stop playing with yourself, your elbow will never get better.
Thank you for shopping at Woolworths.

I'm having so much trouble with posting to this blog today. Firstly, I was getting an error message "There were errors", so I kept trying to post the blog for today, ending up with 6 copies of it.

I thought I'd deleted them, but kept getting the same error message. But, when I looked, there were two left in the "edit Posts" section, but only one on the blog. I thought that I should leave well enough alone, because it seemd like the "edit Posts" section was "behind" what was showing on the blog.

So, despite my better judgement, I deleted the second one in the "edit Posts" section, only to lose the only copy left one the blog.

*fumes*

I should have trusted my instinct and left well enough alone. There's a message in there somewhere.

And I'm publishing this once and leaving it, regardless of what message I get.

Pet Hates

In no particular order:

- havning to do the same household chores day after day - making the beds, making lunches, putting the dishes away.
- people not putting the lids back on things securely.
- doing something little for someone that is never reciprocated.
- household rules that work one way, but not the other.
- the "kill or be killed" mentality of people when parking at a shopping centre.
- going out of your way to help someone and not receiving a "thank-you".
- being asked to do something by someone, then that person taking over.

Devil’s Song

The moan reaches through the night,
Echoing through the frigid air,
The strains sing a painful song,
Of hopelessness and despair.
Dogs wail their wild sympathy,
Horses gallop away in fright,
Cats snarl and bite themselves,
As the Devil’s song reaches out tonight.
I grit my teeth with fortitude,
And pray for my weakness to be gone,
I go into my daughter’s room,
And ask her to play her violin later on.

Stereotypes

I have struggled for years to not fit into the male stereotype. I make all of opur lunches everyday, I mow the lawn (5 acres), I wash the dishes, I cook three nights of the week at least, I spend lots of time with our kids, I vaccuum the house, I keep the house, I iron my clothes and the kids' unoforms for school (but don't do all of the ironing) tidy etc etc. What burns me is the continuing stereotype of males.

Last night we were watching a tv program where some guys had gone to cooking school "He Cooks". They went for 8 weeks and they followed up the program with the guys cooking dinner for their wives. One guy went because he felt that he'd like to do more for his wife.

He cooked a great meal for her and served it to her. Her comment, "So, you cooked. When you go to "He Cleans", I'll be impressed."

Right.

I would have tipped it in her lap. This isn't about her being sexist, more, it frustrates me that with some people, nothing's ever good enough.

Boys' Toys

I have been putting off doing a few things around the yard for a few weeks. Well, the day dawned crisp, cool and bright, so out came the toys.

A few hours on the ride-on mower (no rude words cut low in the grass this time), then an hour with the line trimmer, then two hours with the chain saw, then two trips to the dump, then a shower, then out with the toasted sandwich maker, (insert fatherhood statements - girls bathed, changed and meal into them, in no particular order) then into the football jersey, then three games of football on TV with beer in hand (between two was kids in bed - they like to watch a game with me - they call lying on me "reclining on the lazy boy").

A long day, but I'm feeling pleasantly weary. And I've got a buzz one.