Halloween wraps fear in innocence,
As though it were a slightly sour sweet.
Let terror, then, be turned into a treat,
Lest it undermine our common sense.
Our nightmares are the founts of fancy whence
We wander through the fields of our conceit,
Eluding the true horror we must meet
Embodied in the play of our pretense,
Now ranged across the night in our defense.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Creative Writing
Every night, Tom-Tom would go down to the liquor store, get a six pack, bring it home, and drink it while he watched TV. One night, as he finished his last beer, the doorbell rang. He stumbled to the door and found a six-foot cockroach standing there. The bug grabbed him by the collar and threw him across the room, then left.
The night before Tom-Tom was at the bar, really drunk. Some guys decide to be good Samaritans and get him home. So they pick him up off the floor, and drag him out the door. On the way to the car, he falls down three times. When they get to his house, they help him out of the car and, he falls down four more times. They ring the bell, and one says, "Here's your husband!” The man's wife says, "Where the hell is his wheelchair?"
The next night, after he finished his 4th beer, the doorbell rang. He walked slowly to the door and found the same six-foot cockroach standing there. The big bug punched him in the stomach, then left.
Today a murderer, sitting in the electric chair, was about to be executed.
"Have you any last requests? asked the chaplain."Yes," replied the murderer. "Will you hold my hand?" lol…Said Tom-Tom…
Yesterday a friend of Tom-Tom was in Paris nearly got away with stealing several paintings from the Louvre. However, after planning the crime, getting in and out past security, he was captured only 2 blocks away when his van ran out of gas.When asked how he could mastermind such a crime and then make such an obvious error, he replied:
(brace yourself)(this is going to hurt.)(really bad.)"I had no Monet to buy Degas to make the Van Gogh."
The next night, after he finished his 1st beer, the doorbell rang again. The same six-foot cockroach was standing there. This time he was kneed in the groin and hit behind the ear as he doubled over in pain. Then the big bug left.
Tom-Tom cats continue to torment their self with bizarre dangling objects. Robert eats lavish meals in their presence whiles they are forced to subsist on dry cereal. The only thing that keeps them going is the hope of eventual escape -- that, and the satisfaction they get from occasionally ruining some piece of their furniture. I fear they may be going insane. Yesterday, they ate a houseplant. Tomorrow they may eat another.
The fourth night Tom-Tom didn't drink at all. The doorbell rang. The cockroach was standing there. The bug beat the snot out of Frank and left him in a heap on the living room floor.
The day before, Tom-Tom had gone to see his doctor. He explained events of the preceding three nights. "What can I do?" he pleaded. "Not much" the doctor replied. "There's just a nasty bug going around."
The night before Tom-Tom was at the bar, really drunk. Some guys decide to be good Samaritans and get him home. So they pick him up off the floor, and drag him out the door. On the way to the car, he falls down three times. When they get to his house, they help him out of the car and, he falls down four more times. They ring the bell, and one says, "Here's your husband!” The man's wife says, "Where the hell is his wheelchair?"
The next night, after he finished his 4th beer, the doorbell rang. He walked slowly to the door and found the same six-foot cockroach standing there. The big bug punched him in the stomach, then left.
Today a murderer, sitting in the electric chair, was about to be executed.
"Have you any last requests? asked the chaplain."Yes," replied the murderer. "Will you hold my hand?" lol…Said Tom-Tom…
Yesterday a friend of Tom-Tom was in Paris nearly got away with stealing several paintings from the Louvre. However, after planning the crime, getting in and out past security, he was captured only 2 blocks away when his van ran out of gas.When asked how he could mastermind such a crime and then make such an obvious error, he replied:
(brace yourself)(this is going to hurt.)(really bad.)"I had no Monet to buy Degas to make the Van Gogh."
The next night, after he finished his 1st beer, the doorbell rang again. The same six-foot cockroach was standing there. This time he was kneed in the groin and hit behind the ear as he doubled over in pain. Then the big bug left.
Tom-Tom cats continue to torment their self with bizarre dangling objects. Robert eats lavish meals in their presence whiles they are forced to subsist on dry cereal. The only thing that keeps them going is the hope of eventual escape -- that, and the satisfaction they get from occasionally ruining some piece of their furniture. I fear they may be going insane. Yesterday, they ate a houseplant. Tomorrow they may eat another.
The fourth night Tom-Tom didn't drink at all. The doorbell rang. The cockroach was standing there. The bug beat the snot out of Frank and left him in a heap on the living room floor.
The day before, Tom-Tom had gone to see his doctor. He explained events of the preceding three nights. "What can I do?" he pleaded. "Not much" the doctor replied. "There's just a nasty bug going around."
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