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!”

 

                                                         I hope you liked reading this                                                                                                                         I hope you enjoy reading some of THESE

             

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

             

                                         I Enjoy Reading                                                                                                                                             I Also Enjoy Writing                                                                                                                                     I Hope You Enjoyed Reading This                                                                                                                 I Also Hope You Enjoy Reading THESE

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!

                                                      I Like To Write                                                                                                                                              I Hope You Like To Read                                                                                                                              Some Of My STUFF

Moons Not On Mars But Visited By Mars

 

Honeymooners in Space

Universe 14, Planet 47                           

47th Chapter of the Stellar Bus

 

 

 

              “I recently landed in this Valles Marineris.  Valles Marineris.  Valles Marineris!  So, You Came to Valles Marineris to Me!  The Colossal Canyon on Mars!  The Arean of Antares.  And as you guys come on board, and please don’t be bored, card board, cart beard, or otherwise, and I’m the wise one, the one who won, and in this space bus, you’ll be flung.  All you guys and gals.  And Gallons of you.   Mr. Fructose and Ms Glucose.  Along with  your neighbors, the Potassiums.  And don’t forget those friendly Ferrums.  I am picking up all of you Phenolic Compounds.  You sure are sweet together.  And to think, they call me, Ralph and Alice and Ed and Trixie, ‘The Honeymooners!’  Well, you sure try to be Sweet as I drive you, and that is not ‘hive you’, and not just off the wall but to the various Moons orbiting Jupiter.  I’ll drop you off at Metis and you will ooze and drip and drop all the way to Harpalyke.

              “And I won’t intentionally pitch you into a hamper.  If you stink, you stink up into your own nose.  I wouldn’t try to smell you anywhere; I have enough trouble trying to put up with myself.

              “I’ve loaded Robots and Talc Knots and All Slots of Paid Cots so don’t believe that You are Unknown to Me.  Martian Bees are now suppose to pay up for you.  This buy cycle chain will forklift you to your paid for seats and sleeping walled in areas along the length of this space bus.

              “This company, that I claim is happy to pay me, is called the Omnibus Diverter, with a bunch of their operators, and they sure act like we enjoy working for them, and that is again and again, if you ask ‘When.’  They are the United Field Hyperbolics fleet of mass transportational devices.  Someone keeps sending spending patrons and various materialized matters across what is called various regions, solar and otherwise, where I call space, it might be known to you as ‘Outer Space’  as you can be out and still.

              “I am your driver, Ralph Kramden.  I bolt you along to the moons and these many moons, with apparent partner here, Ed Norton, who unplugs toilets if he keeps up.  He once was called   an Astro Physician, or maybe he orbited his own graveness less than your gravity.  In case, or in your chase,  you think you are flew by doubles, your flues are joined with my wife Alice and Odd Eddie’s wife, Trixie.

              “Since you can afford, Welcome Aboard.”

              Ed then poked Ralph in his giant ribs and said "Duality is not a story. Duality is just a complexity."

              Alice whispered, “Life, like poker has an element of risk. It shouldn't be avoided. It should be faced."

              That caused one of the thinking being beings loaded from the Red Planet’s hives to say, “When the tides of life turn against you... just lay on your back and float."

              Ed agreed, "When the tides of life turn against you, and the current upsets your boat. Don't waste those tears on what might have been, I just lay on my back and float." (this is A sewer motto for calm in crisis).”

              Another metallic entry person said to Ralph, “You got a very interesting story here.  It seems like a story of a man doomed to six months to live. Why don't you do like a friend of mine did? He had the hiccups for three weeks, and he sold his story to a Mercury visitor. You know, the Astrology Weekly? He got $5,000 for it. He became a neutron who gravitated to solar electrons.”

              That got Alice to point out, “Well Ralph, I guess we're just hangnails on the fickle finger of fate."

              Ralph agreed, “ I have - I've got an explanation. A perfect one. I'm a dope. Not a run-of-the-mill dope, the universe's champ. For years I've been talking for granite the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me - you. I've never shown you the cosmic interception you deserve, Alice. You could walk outta that solar circle right now and I wouldn't blame you. You deserve something better than me. There are a million guys who'd give you anything if they could have a girl like you.”

              Alice smiled and said, “ Ralph, I don't want a million. There's just one guy I want.  You.”

              Ralph blushed,  “Baby, you're the gravitationalist.”

              Then Ed Norton said  “Hey, Ralph, what's the normal temperature, around 98, ain't it?        Ralph Kramden growled,  “ 98.6. Ed Norton! What would you say a bad temperature?”

              That’s when Ed said, “Facing extreme temperature swings, from scorching heat in direct sunlight (hundreds of degrees Celsius) to frigid cold in shadow (near absolute zero, -270°C / -454°F) due to the lack of atmosphere to regulate heat, with the average baseline being the Cosmic Microwave Background (CMB) at about 2.7 Kelvin. Spacecraft use advanced insulation, reflective coatings, and active cooling systems (like circulating water) to manage these vast temperature differences and protect equipment and astronauts from these extremes.”

              That caused Ralph to say,  “If any of these Space Tycoons ever got sick, it'd be my responsibility to go and visit them.”

              Alice broke in, “Oh, that is a very important responsibility, Ralph. You better start now and find out what the visiting hours are at the Aurora Borealis.”
              To which Ralph responded “That did it, Alice - that did it. You have just broken the comet's black with that telescope. You have ridiculed my bordering space satellites. You have just made fun of something very big that's close to my heart.”

              And Alice replied, “The only thing big that's to eclipse any stars is your stomach.”

              Then an entering paid passenger said, “Based on that, they extrapolated the number of small moons that should be orbiting Jupiter, arriving at the 600 number. There are two categories of moons: regular and irregular. While regular moons form by accretion of material in a disk, the same way planets do, why do irregulars are captured objects?”

              Ralph answered him, “If you have it and you know you have it, then you have it. If you have it and don't know you have it, you don't have it. If you don't fire off your rocket, but you think you orbit it, then you have it.”

              And Ralph dropped off droplets of honey at Adsrastea, Amalthea, Mneme, Euanthe and about sixty others.  Finally, Ed said, “"If my wife Trixie is watching at the projection screen, and when I get back, she says 'I told ya so!', I'm gonna get belted right in the mouth!”

                                                                             I liked writing this                                                                                                                                         I hope you liked reading this                                                                                                                         I also hope you like reading THESE

School Directs Me Down The Hall, Down And Down I Go

 

                             Johnny, your Pa has no headroom

                             He sure snores like a pest

                             And Johnny, your Pa fills up our gloom

                             He brings us all Down in his nest

                             All we can tell is

                             That we sure ain’t blessed

 

              Life has gotten sure wonderful lately.  I now wonder if I am still alive.  I wonder if I ever was alive. I’d like to wander, fully.  Wander fully away from here.  I started my life here.  I grew up here.  I started to get educated here, if you can call that an education.  I don’t think I learned anything.  All of us were just told to memorize and do what we were told.  Do what we memorized.  But I could not memorize.  I could work my mind to figure out what I needed to do. But the kids that would do something from their memorization, they sure didn’t know or care about the reactions of here to there that was needed to do what they were told to do.  The directors of our activities, in and around the classrooms, said, “You are good.” To those kids that did not see or think about what happened to the other pieces of life on and around and touched by what they were told to do.

              There was this kid who had a great short term memorization ability.  He did many great short term memorizations.  The  teacher would have us read a chapter of a literary book and on the third chapter the teacher would ask us to spell a specific word from the first chapter.  He would do it and the teacher would mark down that he did it.  When I was asked, if it wasn’t a word involved in the activity that I knew and physically, actionally supported in my life, minutes ago or weeks ago or years ago, I would take a guess at the spelling and many times I would get it wrong.  The teacher would mark down in her book that I was not good with spelling and she would have me walk up to the front blackboard  and write the correctly spelled word twenty times.

              After class was over, and we were walking down the hall to the next hour’s learnings, that spelling honor student tapped my back and told me, “I make life easier than ever!”  Some of the around students clapped.  One of the mean guys pushed me out of the way and said to him, “You never make life easy!  You need to Exercise! For you, Gym is Toxic.  When you speak that sure is sonic!”

              While he was being laughed at, the smart guy asked, “Could you spell what I had to say?”

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

              Then another kid from the ones walking to class asked the smart guy, “Who are you?

I bet you are Ivan.  And you’ll ask me, ‘Ivan Who?’  And I’ll answer you, ‘Ivan Hoe.’  And again, all we get are ‘How How How?’”

              Then another kid laughed, “He sure makes a lot of Howls.”

              Another one said, “That’s the king of the Spruce.  Spruce?  Spruce!   Spruce are the Mints you shred around here.”

              And another one went, “Blue Mist here, Clue Less there.  Hear a jerk? They’re some jerks.  Ever walk where Jerks Work?”

              An algebra teacher then pointed his ruler at us and commanded, “All your classes start on time.  Go!  And Go!  And Go!”

              My mind went completely blank.  I began thinking that this is the second snow off the season seasons, and us humans have to work for some rat king who dug a hole to our universe.  Black Hole, Wack Whole, Smack All, Snack Call.  When I die you need another eye to get those snake eyes on your dice move.

              It’s like Marching Maraschinos. Marching maestros.  Here they come a mashing up machine parts to fight me.

              And then some sixth grader wacked me with the portable stop sign that he uses to direct the students who actually go to class, directing them down the three aisled hall.  There are Kindergarteners who go there.  First through sixth graders also go there.  Seventh and Eighth graders walk down the middle.

              I’ve learned that these doors  on the hall corner 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.

              I like the art class room.  It is in the same room as the science room.  Art on some time of the day.  Science at another time of the day.  With the way my memory is, when I grow up, I will think that Science is an Art Form.  Or is it Art needs a lot of Science?  This is for the Seventh and Eighth graders.  Their teacher either has the students paint on canvas or mix chemicals together that would burn their hands if they were not careful.

              I guess I will just have to  walk down the hallway from where I sit at the beginning of school in my assigned home room to the English class when that 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 to 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 boot both booths.

 

                                                                                   I liked writing this                                                                                                                                         I hope you like reading some of THESE