Boy Did I Berne, Churn, and Burn, But Not Learn Something

 

              I said, “ I’ve got to tell you:  ‘Johnny, your Pa has no headroom!  He just snores like a pest!!  And Johnny, your Pa fills up our gloom!!!  He brings us all Down in his nest!!!!  All can tell that we sure ain’t blessed!!!!!’”

              And Johnny told me, “He makes life easier than ever!  You never make life easy for me!”

              Then I said, “Your Gym sure is toxic.”

              And Johnny asked me, “Is this whole Glen sonic?”

              I asked, “Could you even spell what I had to say?”

              And he said, “Nope, but I can sure smell what you had Tuesday!”

              That caused me to ask, “Who is your father?”

              Johnny said, “Ivan.”

              I asked, “Ivan Who?”

              He said, “Ivan Hoe.”

              So, I asked, “How How How?”

              Johnny replied, “He is the king of the Spruce Mints.” 

              That caused me to say, “Spruce Mints,  you sure shred that around here!”

              And Johnny explained to me, “Blue Mist here, Clue Less there.  Hear a jerk? They’re some jerks.  Ever wear a Jerks Work?  The second snow is off the season seasons for us humans who the rat king who dug a hole to our universe.  Black Hole, Wack Whole, Smack All, Snack Call.  When I die you will need another eye to get your snake eyes on your dice move.”

              So, I sang:

 

                                         “Marching machine nose

                                           Marching maraschinos

                                           You are a mussed up matching gross jerk to fight me.”

              And then some sixth grader wacked me with his portable stop sign that he directs the students actually going to class down the three aisled hall.  Kindergarteners go there.  First through sixth graders go there.  Seventh and Eighth graders walk the middle.

              The bathrooms are generally open so the teachers can yell in them to stop kids from smoking.  The school library has an entry door and an exit door.  You cannot enter with anything other than notebooks and a pencil.  You can exit only after going through the line where the teacher records the books or computer records of what you need to study for your classes.

The art class room is in the same room as the science room.  This is for Seventh and Eighth graders.  The teacher either has the students paint on canvas or mix chemicals together that would burn their hands if they were not careful.

              I decided to just walk down the hallway from where I sit at the beginning of school in my assigned home room to the English class when the first bell rings so I can learn nouns and verbs and how to use adjectives and adverbs.  These are the objectives we were all told have.  Well, I certainly object to that.  Obviously, my brain cannot observe adverbs when they obtuse from all the abuse I get.  It’s just another tooth decaying from the truth.  So, I booth.

              I asked my teacher, “I owe you nothing?”

              He told me, “And you are nothing.”

              That caused me to reply, “So!  I Owe You?”

              The middle class chorus marched by singing:

 

                             “Please accept

                               Pleas except

                               Fleas Exceptional

                               Trees Accept Canal

                               A Con Dorch

                               Acorn Door Rye Toe

                               Geez!  Accept That Bull

                               Freeze and expect a null

                               Misinformation or Miss In The Form Of The Nation

                               That’s a toon of

                               The tuna that slaves to pay my son

                               He sure is a son of a toupee.”

 

              The Kindergarteners then joined singing:

 

                             “Please accept

                               Pleas except

                               Fleas Exceptional

                               Trees Accept A Canal

                               A Con Dorch

                               Acorn Door Rye Toe

                               Geez!  Accept That Bull

                               Freeze and expect a null

                               Misinformation or Miss In The Form Of The Nation

                               That’s a turn down

                               That’s the stinker who slaves my son.”

 

              I asked Johnny “Was that what was said by her or are you just sad by her?”

              Johnny replied, “She said she had to Meet Mark at the Meat Market so she can get the Meat Mark Et.”

              And I responded, “Well, to me, Mark is probably an E.T.  He sure seems like an Extra Terrestrial because there is so much Extra of him in my Territory.  He sure Exerts his Terror To Me.”

              And we had to stop our conversation.  There was a programming assignment to rip off one of our client’s investors.  OB didn’t know how to do it.  I knew how to do it.  OB got vocally mad at me whenever I updated the code and did not do it.  I just refused to do it and kept updating the code.  Several times he’s told me that he’s the genius and he knows how to do it but he wants me to figure out how to do it so I might be able to do it again for another client.  I told him that I had figured out how to do it.  I then told him “I am being honest to you when I tell you I refuse to do it because I am being honest.”

              Boy, school is getting Artificially Ineluctable as my lack of learning time goes on.   On the mainframes we would call it “structured code.”  On the pc’s we would call it “objected oriented code.”  What some of the bosses did was called “spaghetti code.”

             

              The principal came by and sang to us:

 

                                                       “Shades Of Life

 

                                                          Red to keep us going

                                                          Hand in Hand

                                                          Over Sand and Shale

 

                                                          Blue will shut my eyes

                                                          From killing sorrow

                                                          And regret hate

 

                                                          Green floats in the distance

                                                          To breath as told

                                                          In time and need

 

                                                          Grey my nearing sunrise

                                                          A steady pulse

                                                          Felt now and last.”

 

              So, I got into class.  Sat at my desk.  And the teacher told us that People are the Pets and the Pets are the owners.  Here is how she said it:

 

“A children’s story.

A turtle, “These two humans are driving me bats.  They keep coming in here and pulling me into their hands.  I got to show them who’s boss by pooping in my water dish and peeing in my food dish. 

I got to dig up everything and keep turning over my log so they get some exersize by straightening up the shavings and putting the log in place.  Boy they are hard to teach.”

 

 

The Pig Got Up

You Can Tell:

I’m the one who should tell people what to do.  I can lie.  I don’t have to answer for anything.  You can tell them all to go to Hell

 

Amen:

I’m very religious.  I’ve been a member and a leader in several different churches over the years.  Churches that supply women to rich men.  Churches that organized wife swapping parties.  Churches that control various political parties.

 

Who Boozes:

I drink.  How the Hell else do I keep this up.  I have no drinking problem.  Just cause you have a problem doesn’t mean that I have a problem.  All the people around me drink.  If you have a problem with that just  keep your mouth shut.

 

By the company:

The corporate World.  The Wall Marts.  The Wall Street.  Some corrosive chemicals distribution center.  No one else will take the responsibility.  He was a dock hand.  The company was owned by his uncle.  They were about to let him go.  Another uncle hired him at an electronics company.  He worked for the salesmen

 

Who Chooses:

There is no choice.  That is the way the world is.  She sleeps around.  He sleeps around.  They are both drunks.  They abuse other people.  They rob and steel and brag about themselves.  Just buck up. 

 

When that was said:

He was caught sleeping with his brother’s secretary.  She is twelve years younger than his wife.  His wife was sleeping with his brother’s secretary’s husband.  He is twelve years younger than his wife.  He got caught.  She did not.  She got mad that people would realize that “He was cheating on her.”  Not that cheating occurred but that someone was more attractive than her.”

 

              I got disgusted, got up from my desk, and left.  That keeps happening over and over again.  She thinks she is great.  She says she is the only one who cares about family.  She keeps telling us to give it all up for her.

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Lunar Blades

 

Honeymooners in Space

Universe 14, Planet 48                           

48th Chapter of the Stellar Bus

 

 

              “You’re a peasant. Ooops! I Mean, you are pleasant. Your world is pleasant. Hey!  I am pleasant too!

              “I am Ralph Kramden, the General, the Commodore, the Captain, the Driver of this Space, the Final Renter of this Star Bus.  Remember, ‘The Use Us Us Extra Times.’

              “I’ve landed here to pick you up and give you a gentle ride, an enjoyable endurement, a wonderful transportation to wherever you want to go.

              “And where you want to go.  Where you have to go. 

              “Our first stop will be  the Ethereal.  And this place is not objective.  It is an object.  This is where some of you will be ejected.   I’ve read on the map that it is Extremely Delicate and light shines in a way that seems too perfect for this world.

              “Then some of you will visit an extremely Mellifluous Antiquark.  And to me that is a sound that is sweet and smooth, pleasing to hear.  And I said, ‘To Me,’  not ‘Tummy!’

              “Vinylly, I mean Finally, the rust of you, I mean the rest of you will be dumped, I mean escorted, deported, resorted to the Resort of  Quixotic.  That place is a well known Acceleron – exceedingly idealistic for the unrealistic, or impractical.

              “I hope you all get together enthusiastically, riding up the cross walk to action into your seats, which can extend back so you can rest.  And some of you have paid for cabin rooms to take you on your way.

              “You seem like pleasant creatures.  There’s that family of Sudoriferous Glands. And they are accompanied by their neighbor, Columnar Epithelium.  Mr. Neutron Star and his work mate Magnetosphere Shield.  We also picked up Cosmic Ubiquity.  I hope you get along with Stream O. Plasma.  There’s that whole household of Mr. Accelerating Particle.  And the Unwed, but not for long, Miss Faraday Field Lines.

              “This company, that keeps me space coasting, is called the Omnibus Diverter, which is operated by some operators, and I try to think that we  enjoy working for them, and that is again and their gain, if you ask ‘Huh.’  They are the United Field Hyperbolics fleet of mass transportational devices.  Someone keeps sending spending patrons various materialized matters across what is called various regions, solar and otherwise, where I call space, it might be known to you as ‘The Outer Limits’  but that is the Limit of what I say and do.

              “I am your driver, Ralph Kramden.  I drive you off the walls to the many things we call structures.   With me, lucky me or not, is Ed Norton, who plums and washes,  keeps the emotions along with the gravity up.  He once was called   a neighbor, but now I have little idea of where he is at most of the time.  I hope you enjoy that your trip is joined with my wife Alice and my partner, Mr. Norton’s wife, Trixie.

              “If you can understand me, Welcome Aboard.”

              Ed then said to Ralph, as the latest passengers were boarding, “Are you losing your magnitudinal  footing?  Just tell them you’re the driver!”

              Ralph replied, “I'm not driving anybody crazy. You're just jealous, that's all. And you know why you're jealous? Because you know that in this space, to you it is always tomorrow night!”

              Apricity, a passenger, asked, “Now, tell me, sir, what do you do for a Driving?”

              Ralph Kramden stammered to him “I brive a dus.”

              Apricity,  “You bribe with dust?”

              Ralph went on, “I astrodust my drives.”

              Apricity concluded, “You divide astro dust? Oh, I see, you're a big bang driver. It that it?”

              Then Ed tried to help Ralph out, “Apricity, Tell me, have you discussed this in your home solar system? Have you talked it over with your wife?”

              Apricity said to Ed,  “Yes I did, and regardless, I am going for this $99,000 loss.”

              Tittynope and Cattywampus askewed, “If any of the Re Dwarfs ever get spectrum, it'll be your  responsibilities to go and Venus with them.”

              Alice commented,  “Oh, that is a very important telementry, Ralph. You better start now and find out what the spectroscopes are at Bolometer.”

              Trixie then said, “Like we say in the solar equation, ‘Asteroids and Tides wait for no moon!’"             

              Ed then said to Cattywampus, “I know just how you feel because I went through the same thing two or three solar flares ago when I was in school, they rocketed  me off to teach me some sewer. I felt just like a fish without clean water.”

              Tittynope said his school fired him from his moon,  “Ol' Ed Norton, reliable ol' Ed Norton, cycling 17 years in this solar quest. And now everything's down the drain!”

              Ralph did his commenting, "What I SAY About Solar Eclipses Is One Thing; How I FEEL About Asteroids Is Something Else!"

              Cattywampus spoke finishingly,  "Roche Limit My Yellow Dwarf? If I Keep This up, I'll Lose My Old Azimuth!"

              This made Alice to whisper to Ralph, “ Spectrum ‘antidrakeequationism’.”

              Ralph whispered back,  “I'll sputnik it.”

              Cattywampus pointed out to Ralph,  “You sure do sidereal it!”

              Alice added,  “Ralph! You sure do smell it!  Too!”

              Trixie went along and called out, “Ralph!  You’re are a background radiation!   A Real Racked And Ground Up Radiation!”

              Lining up and marching there came this group of  passengers: Petrichor, Ethereal, Mellifluous, Kakorrhaphiophobia, D Eccrine, and the Cosmic Ubiquities, and they looked, pointed, smiled, and sang to Ralph and Ed:

 

                                                          Okay, Spectro Stellar

                                                          What Ever’s Beamsplitter Blazar

                                                          The Faculae’s not ours to Cepheid

                                                          Okay Selenocentric Seyfert

                                                          What’s Wilting is Languishing

.

              Alice touched him on his shoulder and said, “Ralph.  See.   You don’t need a Trip To The Moon!”

 

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A Bat Bit Here, A Man Wolfed There, Hear My Mind, Dare My Find, Everywhere A Frankenstein

 

Boy, the way me, Dracula, slays

I Bites those necks on everyone day

Flies sure like to eat that way

I miss my grave

 

See me fly at night again

You can Hear my growls from the cemetery glen

Wooden stakes can make me sleep if

Larry Talbot is caged in a pen

 

Didn’t see no mirrored gate

Just  a full moon night up at eight

My own wings are my own fate

I’m another one you hate

 

Bones to me are my casket

You sure are my skeletonet

Die like you when garlic gets in my way

 

Take your final sundown dance

You’ve No Mourners, only a bunch of ants

Let’s act like you are buried in clay

I’m A Vampire, you must obey

 

You’re going to be a Monster Soon

Exit your grave on the next Full Moon

Eruptions make my Mountains Bloom

So much more that I slay

 

I’ll sure laugh when you are dead

Your veins are dried and my teeth are red

That Minister can scare me with that cross on my head

That’s not my way

 

You have there what is not a mirror

You should know just a plate

I sure love the cemetery gate

You think you’re King Kong

You’re just a Primate

Mister we can use a man like Lon Chaney Junior Again

 

See the way my Killers wave

Souls are lost when the moon makes shades

We’ll drink blood like it’s lemonade

Teeth are our way

 

And you see those werewolfs then

With Fur like squirrels in an underground den

Master we could use a slave

Like Larry Talbot again

 

You don’t need a wooden stake

In the afternoon we all have to wait

Lift up to the full moon, I wish it stayed

My bat friends just play

 

My Years in Transylvania spent

I Dug in deep when those necklines bent

I’m just your doom, you paid my rent

Hide that cross’s rays

 

And the world of darkness is a lore by Garou

Typically, in five distinct forms:

 

Homid -  humanoid

Glabro – hulking man

Crinos – wolf man form

Hispo – larger wolf

And Lupus, the normal wolf form

 

You’re Renfield, he’s Renfield, you’re all Renfield.  Loyal to me, Dracula, with the hopes of turning into vampires yourselves, so you can enjoy the abuses you inflict upon others.

 

Others?

Others!

 

Abraham Van Helsing

Lucy Westenra

Quincey Morris

Arthur Holmwood

Mina Harker

Jonathan Harker

Renfield

Dr. John Seward

 

Others?

Odders!

 

Gwen Conliffe

Sir John Talbot

Maleva

Ben Talbot

Inspector Frederick Abberline

 

Sick Too and Evil

Open Life Out

 

Elizabeth Lavenza

Captain Robert Walton

Dr. Henry Clerval

 

 

 

                                                        I enjoy reading and writing                                                                                                                            I hope you enjoyed reading this                                                                                                                    I hope you enjoy reading some of THESE

Sing Heil To My Life And The School Of My Work

 

              As I was walking towards my eight o’clock am classroom, before the bell rang, I heard these other kids in the hall.  "Hess is a mess." "Himmler is a rat fink." "Göring is a fat rat fink." And with laughter,  "Colonel Klink is bucking for rat fink!"

              Then the teacher pointed at me and directed me into her classroom.  She said, “You read Mein Kampf, I believe.”

              I said, “Oh, yeah. You know that guy, Hitler, who wrote it? Well, A lot of people say that just because he wears that silly mustache, I’ve heard that that book's a big joke!”

              She then commanded to me, “I have some good news and bad news.”

              I replied, “This time tell me the good news first.”

              She smiled and said, “You are going to be executed in the morning.”

              I asked, “Then what's the bad news?”

              She answered, “They aren't giving you a blindfold.  You really got to pay for that.”

              A lot of the kids in class whispered  saying, “It seems like everybody’s hit with something.” But, to me, it seemed like “Everybody’s a Hitler something.”

              Eventually, the end of the school year was near.  I got used to the kids that fought, occasionally.  More than occasionally, they fought with me.  And those, sure, were not good occasions.  To them, a nerd is sneered.  But, it is the corrupt that give a loud sneer.  I sure got beat and it was not just occasionally.

              The guy that sat next to me in Math Class got his lunch meal stolen and his soda was spilled, on him.  This was done by a proud, grinning, insulting group.  And then, while he was cleaning himself up, his wallet was also taken away.   And so that’s why he felt jammed into this school.            Every day, here the fights are those bullies’ rights.  And the librarians don’t allow the ones beat up to bicker.     Every day, the front rows and back rows would both sit down and claim they spoke the Truth.  I’m one of the ones who in my face I have to eat paste and then I get slammed.  Oh Boy!  This School!

              That was years and years ago.  It still feels like it’s always going on.  But now, there are cheers to our wives and sweethearts.  Some of you hope they may never meet.  And I feel that it is my work sure isn’t enough.   I'm very busy.  And what is it?  So many times, I want to register a complaint to our business owner on behalf of my fellow workers.

              The paid, non able, non educated commanding group say to me,  “Really? A complaint. There’s not sufficient entertainment, perhaps.  No, you're funny enough.”

              And then one says, “You think you are Romulan’s Heroes.  In your mind you say, ‘Doctor Who?  Dat’s Me!’  Well, I’ve got to tell you to boldly tell them to boringly go where no man returned alive from before.  Repeat  Repeat  Repeat your self!”

              Caring about fellow workers is like it was when I cared about my fellow students.  I am just told that I should Get Away From Me!  That’s sure not the way for those bullies to live,  “A Way From Me!”

              As usual, in my mind I hear:

                                           Shot Down

                                           You Know The Shame Of

                                           Shot Down

                                           You Know The Game Of

                                           Shot Down

                                           Ten Times I Dug Up My Grave

 

              Like that time in the eighth grade, when some kid in the hall said to me:

 

                                           You’d better study Physics Al, Physics Al

                                           Better Study Physics Al, Physics Al

                                           That’ll make your name

                                           Albert Einstein

 

              And now It Is Just ‘AI.’  And I realize mine and everyone’s life is not just, even more, because of AI, Artificial Intelligence.   Schools, Work, and the World’s Owners program our lives and civilizations with Artificial Intelligence, it is sure Artificial and there is less and less Intelligence everywhere.

              All over, The Pros of Oh!  Wha!  Wha!  Give us all The Slows of  “Oh My God.”  It’s just the Foes of Oh My Neighbor. 

              And my life goes through this song, again:

 

                                           My body Dead and Gone

                                           Silkworms dig my head to Gong

                                           Petty Little Squirls make my fore arms gone

                                           My body Dead and Wrong

 

              Whatever I do, it’s like I am back in grade school, in my eighth grade Art Class.   And there I  was, swirling around some clay bump forcing my hands to make it look somewhat like a drinkable mug, instead, what I wanted to make as a gift for my father, an ash tray.  I kept covering it with prismed non leaking liquids, and my art teacher recommended, over and over again that I put it into the big clay oven holder. 

             

                                           Noah’s Arc or No One’s Arch

                                           I know no one with Any Of Life’s Arch Support

                                           Foot Foot Here

                                           My Foot Has Hair

                                           And Hear A Glare

                                           They’re A Glare

                                           Ugly, Ugly, Everywhere

 

              I guess I should look up about Ancient Civilizations found in Washington DC.  Our government sure is Ancient now, and they sure are Not Civilized.  But They Are Symbol Lies.  With lying red hair and fighting off humans that work for them and everyone else.  Paid, Paid Here.  And Paid Paid They’re.  We get paid less and have to pay them more.  And my grave gets dug up more, and all I can do is swear.

 

 

 

                                                          Psoriasis is Red

                                                          When I have the Flu

                                                          My Heart Beat is Weak

                                                          My Life is Through

             

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What Fur You Do, Your Ejected Electron Are TOO

 

              There  I was at work, and the drafting people were happy that the reactive robot that I invented and built for them was, as their boss had told them, bought from another company.  I worked at it.  I thought about it.  I viewed other people and what they have to do to accomplish their work.  I built it for them and only got paid my hourly salary because my boss listens to his boss’s boss who’s the uncle who owns part of the company.  At lunch, near my desk, several of my work partners slid down the stairs to get their cold chicken.

              For my lunch, I fell to the floor to wrap up some foot prints from my muddy work shoes.  The way my life works is that I am usually shoed away. Capistan and Cap A Goat.  I ate something that the cafeteria personal could not pronounce but could sell it to me.

               As I got back to work again, facing the gears towards each other so they can grow energy but not rub off each others’ existences, I thought to them and to myself.  I occasionally noticed.  My veins are pipes made out of copper and my arteries are made of lead.  My lungs are made of Pumice.  My skin is made of hematite.  My eyes are silicon.  My likes are sulfurs.  My dislikes are rusts.  Usually, my foe is  Iron Rust because of the Irony of my situation.  And I have to be situated a lot, because without a parking lot I cannot sit.  You may think I am Par but I think I am King.  King Kong, who snows my name like Pung Pounce, ten times as mean as I am.  And I am treated like yam in a jam.  Whoever rams I?

              I taught myself, to stay in existence, what is made up in myself.  It worked its way to this. All existence is in columns.  To know and accept and think we understand each other or at least what we walk  on which We claim that those atom columns are the makeup of protons and neutrons for individual elements are related to each other.  We claim those different but similar in a specific column act in similarly ways and we react to them in what we think are similarly ways.  The first column has one free electron on its outer side.  That free electron is used to connect with elements to add up with eight outer electrons making those elements elemental with ten agreeing electrons. The connected water like substances are these:

 

              Column 1A

             The first column is the one giving out one electron to the gaming, working together outer shell:            

              Hydrogen, Lithium, Sodium, Potassium, Rubidium, Caesium, Francium

 

              Column 8B

              The eighth column is the one that allows, uses, and abuses to make up in a connecting conjecture for water claiming makeups:

              Oxygen, Sulfur, Selenium, Tellurium, Polonium, Livermorium

 

              Ten is the comfort and agreement of the electrons pairing up in their joining outer shells.  That makes water.  That makes liquid.  That makes oil.  That makes the oceans we claim we live in.  How can we ever claim that we are Alive.  Most claims are A Lie.

             

              My body is made up of its water.  But that water of mine is made up.  Some say Water is H2O.  Two Hydrogens to One Oxygen.  Some Oxygen’s outer shells have 6 electrons so they need to hook up with two more.  Hydrogen has one electron total, so that is one in its outer shell.  A real molecule needs 8 electrons in its combined outer shell so Water is made up of Two Hydrogens and One Oxygen.  One of my fake waters is Two Potassiums and One Tellurium.  Another is Two Caesiums and one Livermorium.  Finally, I made up my wonderful, full of wander, and whatever water with Two Lithiums and One Sulfur.  Eight and Two.  Two and Eight.  Ten is tense in the intense of its intents. 

             

 

                                                                        H2O

                                                                        K2Te

                                                                        Cs2Rn

                                                                        Li2S

 

 

              Then I had to put up with a supreme robot car which judged that people had breathed instead of beated those beaded oxygenetic beeps.  They are the ones that sanction air and are not part of this country, so they should be skin stripped and head banged.  Two hundred words here, two hundred dollars there, and two hundred business owners who dare.

              When that occurred to me, I did not sweat.  And even though that is not sweet to me, it is because I feel cold no matter how warm it is.  Those liquids that I hoped were water, flushed constantly through my silicon salted skin, making those iron filings the fillings of my lungs and minds.   What?  Do I have No Heart?   I have no mind and you don’t mind that.  But you do set mines around me.  And those are not the mines that dig me up, those are the mines that blow me up.  A sparkle here and a crackle there makes the rich more happy to dare.

              People, people, to Dare, to be one of The Ones That Flew There, the Prism of the Prison of my eye slight causes a sight which is not mine and definitely not in its prime.  It calls me a Primate to my face but it calls me an Ape to it’s rich folk friends.  As if rich folk can act like friends to anybody.

              Here I am now, my arms are scratched and my head is full of bumps but at least I am the least, and the most lost,  as I loop the most. 

              I finally realized that with my art, I don’t make sense.  But, people,  when I dart, they sure think I make a lot of scents.  And if I don’t part from you, I won’t make any cents.

 

                                           Some people say it is better to vent.

                                           I feel I am better than Advent.

                                           I just keep getting taken to my advantage.

                                           I’m glad I am at my Advanced Age.

                                           Life sure is in a cage.

                                           Stop your rage.

                                           That’s enough of this venture!

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