A poem for a dead guy
Power chords did he play
Now he's dead
No more tunes in his head
In a slight tangent, I think the guitar tuning arrangement 'Drop D' would be a cool ironic name for a Gangster Rapper. Especially if Fiddy Cent put some caps in his ass yo'.
Hmmm 50 cent mixtures.
*To paraphrase xXx
Check out Bon Jovi's This House is not For Sale' album lyrics
From Stuff : "SPCA national education manager Sara Elliott, of Wellington, issued a statement yesterday warning farmers that there was a danger of record levels of obesity, because grass was particularly lush and rich at present."
"…to which Coastal Taranaki farmer John Washer, who has 40 years' dairying experience, said the SPCA was "udderly" wrong and ill-informed." 'Udderly' – that's clever! I would never have picked that pun in a million years!
To which I sarcastically say 'Yes that's so true! Because eating vegative materials commonly found in salads really does make you make you fat. Aye Kirsty Alley!'
"Record levels of obesity' interesting phrase – I was not aware there was a recording system of cattle obesity in NZ. Is there a Plunket for Cows ?? Does SPCA run weight clincs every year for cows? And if so, do they get the Fat Cow that always seems to be able to push her way to the front of the bus queue each morning?
Maybe these cows get fat because they eat each meal of lush and rich grass eight times or something....
This is bloody typical of the SPCA, firing off on some misguided Peta like attempt to save the universe and its humble creatures. I'm reminded of the time a while back when the SPCA noted its concern about farm dogs being 'too skinny'. Well you can't have your working farming dog eating cake and having it too. They run around a lot keeping those naughty sheep on the straight and narrow and so are skinny. Just like those barefoot Cheeky Darkies that win all the gold medals at the Olympics.
Maybe the cows are fat because they don't exercise much. I think the SPCA should demand mandatory exercise classes for cows – call it 'Milkshake' or 'Bovisize' or something else jazzy to get eager buy in from the Cow's Collective. (Surely the cows have unionised by now right?)
Yes, it's true sometimes farmers do stuff up and animals suffer – it's a fact of life and there are agencies governmentmental and NGO wise out there that deal with it on a case by case basis.
What's my point? SPCA should stick to its knitting and get the pricks who sever dogs in half (which they do and good on 'em) rather than get into areas they perhaps don't really understand.
Which is probably a thing for bloggers to think about too…..
So like I thought I was being totally original in referencing the r.e.m. moment of lyrical genius "I believe in coyotes and time as an abstract" from the song 'I believe' in my kinda weird poem thingy below and then I got curious – and found that some brightspark beat me to it. In fact it seems its been done a gazillion times over. It just lends weight to the theory that feathers can hit the ground b4 the weight can leave the air, don't it?
I believe in the power of television. I believe in coyotes and time as an abstract. I believe in closed circuit tv. I believe the internet is the new bible. I believe in sugar filled drinks. I believe there is nothing out there but big rocks and aliens. I believe Captain Kirk was beamed up. I believe in miss congeniality. I believe its okay to eat fish cos they don't have any feelings. I believe all we need is love, love, love. I believe in rock music. I believe Shortland Street can really save the world. I believe in bread. I believe in coke and microsoft. I believe in rational choice and independent thinking. I believe in you. I believe in monsta truck and Phar Lap. I believe in the almighty dollar. I believe in user pays. I believe in the Easter Bunny and Superman comics. I believe in Bert and Ernie and the rubber ducky. I believe in rubber and rubbers. I believe in the Black Caps and picnics. I believe in the alphabet. I believe the truth is out there.
I'm afraid of americans. I'm afraid of blue cheese. I'm afraid of birds that sneeze. I'm afraid of trent reznor. I'm afraid of the word. I'm afraid of the world. I'm afraid of copyright infringement. I'm afraid of tetnus. I'm afraid of chewing gum. I'm afraid. I'm afraid of the tv hum. I'm afraid of satan claws. I'm afraid of magneto. I'm afraid of madonna. i'm afraid of fat mormons knocking on my door. I'm afraid, I'm afraid of your mum. I'm afraid of my bank overdraft. I'm afraid I have a compulsive disorder. I'm afraid I missed shortland street every night last week. I'm afraid of the front lawn. I'm afraid my non existent coffee is too weak. I'm afraid of thelma and louise. Did I mention the blue cheese?
So like after having overpriced but tasty lambshanks at the Cornerstore, me and Jay Bee got out Be Cool last night. What a rancid pile of flaking turd it is. John Travolta is Mr Cool and that's about it – in fact that's all I know because I stopped watching after half an hour or so. I hate sequels and Mr Cool acknowledge this in the first scene. I hope he took the money and ran. I could sense this movie was becoming a farce when Vince Vaughn started hamming it up big time, all yo yo yo yo mofo like.
It's the sequel to Get Shorty which I've never seen. I have read the Elmore Leonard novel of that film that inspired this mess and that's a fine read. EL writes pretty good crime stuff actually, go get some from your local over funded with ratepayers rates library. Then catch a ride in ur local uneconomic but still heavily ratepayer subsidised bus service (the Loser's Cruiser) and go and have a swim in the uneconomic but still kept afloat by the ratepayer community swimming pool. It is summer after all……