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August 05, 2020


The thread, it is, how you say, open.


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I have narrowed the list down to three.

!,,, !!,, and ,,!,,

Early draft:

"Why don't we thread it in the road?"

I only post this because I have nothing better to do with my valuable time.

What’s this about A royal figure and a hand puppet ? I thought we’d left all that behind in the 1960’s.

Enter comment, if you dare. mmMMMmmmm

Hanging by a Thread:

Life is become a gossamer thread
Like delicate lace the threads intertwine
Usually with too much wine
An arrow can only be shot by pulling back
And missing most of the time

Common threads here will not be found
Profound threads only shall be striven for
Unraveling aimlessly from ancient lore
While our brains are spinning 'round
Hanging by gossamer threads spun of times before

The guy on the far left of the screen being interviewed some time ago, Denny, is a good So. Cal friend whom I have not seen in a while.

If you listen carefully, just after midway towards the end of the interview, The F bomb is used repeatedly and by the interviewer, who has significant breasts which add considerably to the interview.

Here they are apparently opening for Twilight Creeps.

< A HREF="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oe5FR-3bkYI">Remember these guys?
Bulletin: Update on Starcrawler

Twilight Creeps sound a lot like my friend's band, so I may just create a lot of confusion on your part should I post a video of them playing music. I'd like to hang out with the 'Creep' if they do an interview with that chick.

Remember these guys? See Bulletin, Update above.

Notice: The F bombs start about three minutes into the above interview video. Don't miss them.

I now have dreams about being interviewed by a woman who declares mid interview, "You're Efing with me!"


Important. Critical. Biting.

ALL blog members, All of you, watch this video from start to finish or you are nothing. Nothing..

My dream didn't turn out like I had hoped.

Texas Drought
Anthony Stewart

July sweats into August

Cicadas burr in the wilting branches

But Hope is at bat, calling

A home run over the center field fence.

September pops a single,

slides into October’s second base

with spikes, on grass burrs akimbo

raising caliche dust on dry


Outfield covered in brown grass,

hits disappear in drouth cracks

before the outfielder

can scoop up the ball.

Even the barrel cactus

Is wilting;

the temp stays over 100

as solid as that home run

over the center field fence.

Hoping for even a Gatorade shower.

President William Devane is standing by, waiting for word from Jack whether or not he'll be back. Wait. I can't tell if it's President William Devane or not....the person is wearing a baseball cap.

I always liked Johnny Cash's version of Shel Silverstein's song "A Boy Named Sue". Then a Silverstein tribute album came out with Todd Snider doing it. Funny stuff - the mud, and the blood, and the beer.


Wow, poets, give yourselves a round of applause!

Anthony Stewart, your line "Hope is at bat" gave me chills and is one I will remember for the rest of my life. Really.

Now let me get back to my magnum opus here...

The boy stood on the burning deck
Eating peanuts by the peck

There once was a girl from Pawtucket

Um...never mind.

If Pawtucket, where did he go with it? If he tuckit to Maw,
did she tucket in a bucket? No, that was Jack and Jill and they were told...never mind.

Mar mite but Pa won't.

This open thread has unraveled badly.

There is an old mining camp limerick that was written about a man who drove mules pulling ore carts out of a mine.

"My sweetheart is a mule in a mine
I drive her without any lines
And all day long
I spit tobacco
On my sweethearts behind"

Be soft.
Do not let the world make you hard.
Do not let pain make you hate.
Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness.

Dis how you say:open

\ ˈō-pən , -pᵊm \
opener\ ˈōp-​nər , ˈō-​pə-​ \; openest\ ˈōp-​nəst , ˈō-​pə-​ \

I saw "Paw-tuck-it" open at a Titi-Tranny bar.

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