Sunday, December 6, 2009

Reason Number 24: There Are Always Cookies Worse Off Than Yours

This is perhaps the most important lesson your mother ever told you before she tucked you in.

Just say no to failure and yes to learning everything better.

At least genuine vanilla was employed, but even the most Madagascan and overpriced extract can't always reverse an over-burnt bottom, a too-thin spread.

How (how (how)) to avoid this kind of spread? How to make them fluff?

BUT: I could be eating Chips Ahoy, or Whoppers, or a subpar cluster of homemade pralines.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Reason Number 23: Reggae is so hilarious, and it doesn't even mean to be

"Gash Dem and Light Dem" by reggae artist Chuck Fenda inspired me to write a homophonic/syllabic translation based on repeatedly listening and watching the video, which wasn't even about weed! WTF. But seriously, the patois is so garbled and rapid I had no idea what the fuck was happening, which made it all the more applicable for an English to English translation simulation explosion.

Before sharing my interpretation of what I think Chuck Fenda's lyrics sound like, I'd like to take a moment to express my warm admiration for what reggae did for my creative process, in spite of my general distaste for this genre.

This poem is best read while listening to the song.

Splash Sperm, Englighten

Old, old lard!

Hmm, a’delivering four ewe, one finer swineherd.

Hmmm, derivative lard friar, hyar! Sexton in lieu

Of compromise, no timid eunuch.

Just give up!

Big manatee rape, pop a sixty year old bayleaf,

A big mangrove ewe papa, young gonad

Pull knight porn, a biddy, old lady.

Abet mange, lick few

moms dung schoolyard, undertaking a Mexican scabie,

But Godhole young, thick, nor nutbutter swell mighty bode, prithee.

Gashing and frightened for the negative version in my brains,

Crash, perm, and quite prim

Plea comfy mash-upward, make up a senseless kenning.

Flash them and fight Dubois, revere, offer—why? teabagging, gumming,

Mashed, dim, indict phlegm,

Ham, Gwar, and come out, dye wagers of skin.

Summer’s Eve, it’s on special o’er at Target.

Off the rocket, signet, call it, whack it, sparkle!

Unlove your leash, see dung and pork it

and “Stop, Carrie, water innards, Basquiat,”

Sung Moammar Kadafi, snuffed, “charmeuse is law.”

Ionic pushpin till bloodspurt drawl

All die wrong, buoy spew half toupee. Fish.

Dunce bat, je ne se qois, not smart

Come and tell me, say you don’t have newt hearth.

A long timid wiki priest, and a caulk.

And until you give Diptychs a stalk,

Utah. They tell me you’re nuts, fried fist-poppet, scoff,

Caw! You love her, tepid dog. A balk.