If you're a gas stove
I want to be propane
I want to fuel you.
And I know I sound pretentious
up here
making a stupid, messy stab
into the heart of poetry.
Forcing it to bleed
an open wound
I don't know how to do this
I don't know how to make you see
these ******* characters
that form words
when words morph into lines
then to stanzas
then a ******* poem.
Just a bunch of broken sentences
but I guess that's why
they say poetry is for broken people
to mend their broken hearts.
Love for the loveless
hope for the hopeless
poems are broken
just like all of us
us broken people with plastered smiles
and Hello-Kitty band-aids
holding together
our shattered hearts.
Such a beautiful art
to be so broken.
Like butterflies
fluttering in the calm breeze.
****.
I've always hated butterflies
and butterfly knives and butterfly band-aids.
So what am I going on about?
As my heart looks to my brain
it whispers softly,
"Shh...I got this."
Well then heart, might I ask you something?
What
The
****
What do you have?
My sanity, that's for sure.
Do you even understand what you're doing to me?
Huh? Do You?
No.
You don't see how when you break free
free of those butterfly band-aids holding you together
you're not fixed
you're still crumbling to ****
taking me down with you.
Because then my body
listens to you and says,
"Oh, I'd better crumble down too!"
STOP!
I don't want to be a ******* poem
full of pretentious *******
I don't want to be a broken sentence
maybe a cracked one.
Because let's be honest
a whole sentence isn't real
nothing is whole
there's always gotta be a crack
or a chip
which is what allows us to break
and to crumble
to become nothing
but charred remnants
we've all been thrown into a pit of fire
as people watch and laugh.
Like we're some sort of freak show!
Perhaps we are.
Put here to entertain.
When I was young,
I was scared of freak shows.
How could that lady bend like that?
Wouldn't that blade cut too deep into that man's esophagus?
Maybe that was the point
we want to feel
our days and nights are full of the same pointless banter.
Becoming so numb to who we are,
we long for a feeling of adrenaline
to corse through our veins
and assure us
we're alive.
You wake up and plaster on your best smile.
What if you don't?
What if you let yourself cry?
Well that, would be feeding yourself to the sharks.
They want to watch you bleed
and taste your pain between their teeth
as you slip down their throat
like you're the sword and they're the man in the freak show.
You're nothing of fear to them.
However
fear pulses through your veins
perhaps that's how you became so numb.
You feared the carnies in the freak show
and the strangers in the street
as their shoulders brushed against your's.
Raised in a bubble
but all bubbles POP
now don't they?
What they don't know
when all those sharks swallow you
is that you were never fixed
your insides are still a pile of broken shards of glass
so you're choked on
spit into the air
not even a ******* shark wants someone so broken.
So tell me now
why is poetry placed on such a high pedestal?
No one loves so broken a man
but they're mystified at the words one can place on paper
in broken sentences
to a ******* stanza
we gawk at the people
who's words flow like rivers
and eyes are nothing but black holes
poetry is supposed to be dark, deep.
But,
when you're truly so numb and empty,
do you have that depth?
I think so
I think that when you have an empty hole where your heart belongs
then you're able to feel the emptiness.
You plunge your hand into your chest
and brush the emptiness between your fingers
just like sifting pink sand at a tropical resort
little pieces of glass mixed in,
eating away at that hand
placing little cuts so you never forget
you're being branded on the outside
branded by the inside.
By the only one you cares
but also the only one who couldn't
give a **** if you live or die;
yourself.
Abandoned by the ones you love
rejection
your papers passed through
and they were slammed
with a big red stamp
reading,
NO.
They turned their backs
as you fell through fire
and met the devious sharks mouths
forever is a hollow word
filled with nothing but the air
they breathe out as
they whisper it into your mouth
the taste filling from them
to you
it seems like a kiss of life.
Giving you a reason to stay
but you notice something...
off
something strange
its like milky,
bittersweet chocolate
seeping into the cracks
in the lungs
you thought
would save you
but they only crack more
under the pressure of the slimy goo
and leave you wondering
your thoughts pounce at you
like a puma hunting prey.
Did they ever even love you?
no.
The bitter symphony of their voice
floods your thoughts
and you know
they never told you the truth
it was all
a trick
for a cliche
masquerade ball.

There was a little kitty
Who came into my life
She was soft and pretty
But she sure could bite

That kitty scratched me hard
She got me where it counts
I don't think i'll ever get another
No, no more kitties in my house

The small kitten is meowing a lot
She may want to eat food
You drop some food onto the floor
The kitty eats it up

The small kitten is now bigger
It has been five months
The kitten jumps onto your head
Claws out; it hurts

The small kitten is stalking a toy
She’s taking her time
A paw forward and then she jumps
Batting it away

The small kitten is standing outside
Enjoying the air
You try to pick up off the ground
The kit jumped away

The small kitten is in a box
It is a very small box
She pokes her head out playfully
It looks very cute

The small kitten is now fully grown
A small little scottish fold
She looks right up and smiles at me
Still acts like a kitten

Pet Meds are expensive!
Chuck Schumer says it’s so!
So He’ll co-sponsor legislation
To make sure costs are low.
If kitty needs some birth control
before her nightly prowl,
the taxpayers will gladly pay.
If not then Chuck will scowl.
Why shouldn’t people without pets
Pay for those who do?
He’ll make them pay for strays as well-
It’s a Democrat’s World view.
You may think the world has gone to hell
as our border teems with trash.
The Ukraine is on fire.
Jews are fighting with Hamas.
Yet none of these disasters
has made Chuck’s passion burn.
Even Vets who fought our wars
are not Chuck’s main concern.
It’s Vets, who deal with cats and dogs.
It’s far too much they earn.
Why is this his main concern?
Why does he want it passed?
Because it deals with animal rights
And he’s a horse’s a

There is an island
called Cat-can-du.
And what can I but conclude:
you should heed my advice
and soon take a trip.
The air full of spices,
including catnip!

Cats, cats enchant
with eyes aglow naturally.
But what about cat eyes
that glow magically?
Those orbs are beacons of light
found in the wise, furry faces
of Cat-can-du felines.

As you catapult from one escapade to the next,
these fun-loving critters will lead
you to heights of sight-seeing so grand
with all of their brilliant cat skills.

From volcanic mounts
to far underground,
showing you hidden catacombs,
with eyes as bright
as any high-powered lantern.
Exploring the city's secrets,
side by side seeking out treasures--
it's exactly within their purrview.
To find old and new writings on shadowy walls
recalling hieroglyphics from cat worshiping Egyptians
and stowed-away diamonds, rubies, ancient coins, and scrolls.

A witch's best companion
Black cats have psychic powers,
it's a fact.
But in Cat-can-du exists a breed so rare
that its mythics are mostly all lost.
Perfect telepathy and with crystal clarity, they read
each and every one of your thoughts.

Their fur is so black it is almost blue--
but a very different hue
from the aquamarine waters
lapping at the shore like the cats lap at milk.
Now, it's common knowledge cats don't like water.
But here, oh here, in Cat-can-du
all cats, they swim like otters!

Another kind of magic kitty, has wings
to fly high into the sky, and a mane like a lion,
but in pastels, oh so pretty.
They write songs of daring do like minstrels of old
and will certainly create some of their best
about the adventures you'll share with them!
Now, do you know the name of a creature like that?
Here's a hint:
What if I were to say, it's also a cat with a horn
smack on its forehead?
It's a unicat!

These supernatural furballs
on this island do dwell.
I hope you'll find a way
to get there someday.
But until then, the next best thing
is perhaps just to picture yourself there,
to let your imagination set sail!

cute kitty cat
kitty on my back
kitty on my lap
kitty sleeping on the rag
kitty sleeping on the mat
kitty killing rat
kitty loving cat

Buzzing emerald jungle swoons—
           hip kitty soul eyes embrace the red wanderer.
It’s a tactical chess game,
        both aware of the other’s presence.

Nebulous black perched in shadows,
     desert red fool skips like a rock.
          when eyes eclipse each other
an electric hummmmmmm buzzes
as their hearts start glowing like a peridot ember
the wind whizzes and twists
through their perfect curly hirsute
           rushing luscious aurora energy pulsing
           to and fro like giddy hearts exchanging notes in class…
Their blurry bodies bound forward
    fox scorching ground while panther burns branches
        lightning leg movements paws calls thunder
          sun red hot fuzz lunges up
           midnight cool moon goddess panther slams down  
            colors collide and crash and cling and clap
            spines ignited in tye-dye holographic rainbows
their claws singe each other’s skin
their eyes swirl black holes
holy howls and breath coalesce
as one love
as one sight,
all encompassing
mythical tail told to all
through campfire gypsies and artists canvas
panting the dancing fox and panther
the bhavacakka.

call me ghost buster
cuz im bustin at haters til they ghost smoke the most make a toast
to the houston heat holders
in texas we play hold em fold em
then hit cha with a texas two steps guns in prep we go for the reps
til its nothing left
body bruised as my fist cruise
to ya jaw disconnected now reconnected
from the chiropractor
thats what ya get for playin a gangsta actor
run through rhymes like a tractor factor
to the game plugged into my veins
got hip hop growing insane
cuz yosef delivers than the pain
worse than cheap *******
in yo brain
uh i got black ice sittin' nice
haters get yo head spliced sliced
like wires soon to retire body expire
as bring more heat then a dryer respect the sire
embrace higher
learning from books that  i read
now the art of war aint dead
skipped over the feds never sleep in the same bed
cuz i got bread to make uh im a baker like anita baker
give ya the best that i got
i like to tote glocks poppin shots throwin back shots
of liquor turns me evil quicker
see a bad chick then a **** her hit with the tongue twista
eargasm to back spasm
ya know yo gotsa to have em
uh at least a different chick
for everyday no parlay
we gettin ***** down to the nitty gritty never ******
fools talkin itty bitty
they sweeter than hello kitty i pity
the fool like mr t ya see me ya better believe its beef
i keep it smokin' like hot kettles
pushin' hot metals
til ya cranium falls like rose peddles dont meddle
in yosefs **** unless ya face a casket though a ghetto *******
through the life of crimes ya know that im
a hundred percent with my skills
one eighty seven once i touch the mic it chills
below zero violent hero got rhymes like k'rino
peeps say i rocking too fast
but they just slow
feel the adrenaline rush
as i tote this cannibus yo its a must as i bust
through the scene like a dope fiend
lookin' for that last hit kind of drastic
so dudes rub ya *****
n chicks rub ya *****
slow grinding to my **** cuz of the way i spit
ya find me bonin' sally in the alley as I add another to my tally
******' hip hop ever since she developed ***** uh

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North Carolina, Soloboid, Salvador Dali, Matt,
San Diego, California Robert, San Paolo, Brazil,
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from North Carolina, compared to the UK,
and the Kings hand comes from the British Lindy
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is one of the worst testimonies for the well-being
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of the harem" the women occupying a harem;
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as centering around a particular man. "rich men
with their extensive harems of buxom blondes"
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and also the spiders. Standardized in foreign countries.

She likes  the boys
& the boys like her.

She makes the dog growl
He makes the kitty purr!

Some call it mating
I call it an animal affair.

i had to shove my fat cat into a tiny kennel that was too small for her fat ***.
we took her to the vet.
she ****** in the kennel.
it wasn't her fault.

the visit cost 165 dollars, out of pocket.
so basically, we paid them to clean the **** out of the kennel.
and to clean the ******* of her tail.
and to tell us that she's fat.
(i already knew this.)


when we got home, i opened the door of the tiny kennel.
she stalked out,
looked around as if she didn't know where she was.
she squished her fat ***
BACK into the kennel
and peed.
and stood in there.

just looking at me.
this scares me,
does she need to go back to the vet?

Humans still engage
in ******* play
with masks & beads?

I am so glad we have
come so far for a dollar.

That kitty litter is fresh too!

When tears seep out
it doesn't smear
the cosmetics I use
to cover and accentuate
as is expected of me
a little urn
tasteful walnut box
paw print on pottery
I admit, I shook it
to see if anything rattled about
but thankfully there was silence
Sometimes we lose
what we most want to keep
Every living thing
is precious
irreplaceable
I want to get a little black kitten
with some white on his chest
but it won't be my little black kitty
it won't be the one I found
on a road
next to the beach in Haifa
covered in tar and fleas
skin and bones and ear mites
and who became
a member of my family
my Shakour

This a witch hunt, they did say I was a witch
Perfect the kitty purrs, wanting to rip me to shreds
You know...
Youre not strong enough
It echos in my mind, the words to hear only
This a witch hunt, they did say I was a witch
Man just burn the *****...
Man....
Just burn the *****

How does the look in your eyes seem so free?
And you nap on the bench for hours
and wish to acquire much needed affection all so carefully carelessly.
And I guess I see kitty cat,
you are no different from me.

No values of human life but more values of currency and gold,
No values of old cultures but more vaues of modern cultures,
No values of old ethics but more values of kitty parties and pub parties,
No values of marriage but more values of live in relationships,
No values of love and faith but more values of betrayal and hatreness,
No values of truth but more values of making other fool ,
No values of binding relationship but more vaues of separating relationship.
No  values of humanity but more values of individual personal,
No values of poor and medium locality but more values of  VIP,VVIP personals.
Very sad feelings of inequality created by humans towards humans.
Lost the World, Universe and Lost everything.

A kitty in hand is worth four wings in the sky!

Your soft fur would make the most comfortable pillow
I'm sure your muscles taste divine.

Scratch me and both of these thoughts will come to fruition.

You can play like a big cat but
That's still just a kitty,
And I hear you roaring yet
They sound like meows to me.
Other felines especially like fish,
You purr at the taste of meat.
Blood dye whiskers,
Fresh enough when pulse still beats
And colors tread in cheeks;
She was just a thirsty drunk
And I, a glass of whiskey.

Hello, everyone! This is one of the weirdest sites: or your money back! We have ZIM, neopets, music, and much, much, more. E-mail us for questions, comments, complaints and information. Why not click on the Very Weird Stuff link to see more, or click on the music link? We have halloween and christmas pictures on the NeoPics link. Cheese is not a wild thing!!!!!!!!! Now I have decided to go for a world record. I will try to make the longest web page ever, made completely out of text! Won't that be fun? I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste. Wow...I really must be bored. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Any way, that's it for now. Wait, no it isn't, I still have to keep going, and going, and going. Because I do. THE REST OF THE STUFF I TYPE WILL BE COMPLETLY IN CAPS JUST BECAUSE I CAN. THAT IS ALL. SEEYA! Hi, I'm back. So far this is nowhere near the world record. I think. I don't exactly know where it is...oh, well. I'll just have to do the very best that I can. No one is really coming here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. By the way, TAB is a worthwhile, community-service organization. The form link is to a 100% fake TAB registration form that you can fill out just for laughs. I can't believe I'm bothering to do this. I have very low expectations of my site. None ever comes here, I could do this all day long and I still wouldn't have any more hits. This is just a pointless excursive in spelling errors and grammatical imprecision. May your day be shiney! The following is an extremely weird poem-thingy that I wrote when I was in a relatively weird mood:
never mind that noise my dear can anyone pass the cheese only if you say pretty please oh, boy do I have to sneeze. why must everyone always rhyme, why I’m a poet and don’t I know it? what I fear comes right after here not this life or the next will I ever be able to pass the test? we’re stuck in here, (alone my dear) and we’ll problem never get out so don’t start to shout. it’s dark and I want to go home is where the heart was where is it now? we’ll never know but oh crap it’s starting to snow and it’s time to show and tell about the well that you found last summer at camp when it was damp it was near the ramp oh god why must this be I liked that tree but now it’s gone, farewell so long I’ll miss you as long as you write but then I’m afraid to say good-night. my dear there’s nothing to fear that’s only a box that’s made of blocks next to the wagon that looks like a dragon why are you shaking it’s your fear that is making you shiver and act all a quiver. don’t you know that you only need be afraid of fear and never anything here and certainly not a post that acts like a ghost?
See, very weird. At least it fills up my word quota for the day. Not that I exactly have a word quota for the day. It just sounded very professional to say it. Anyway, I still don't think that anyone is actually coming here. You'd have to be an absolute loser (or really bored) to come here. I'd probley come here, but that isn't much of a surprise. After all, I've been to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website over 50 times. Pathetic. But, whatever. As long as I'm happy, right. Humor the crazy person, okay? Oh, guess what? According to someone you problem don't know, this is the second most pointless website ever! Next to the Really Big Button, of course. I feel special. Come on everyone, group hug. Okay, now I'm starting to scare myself...I'm gonna quit for today. Seeya. Now I'm back. Is this getting confusing to you? Too bad. Now I want you to go to http://quiz.ravenblack.net/blood.pl?biter=eon" If you do this I'll get points in the game. Come on all you non-existing people! Help me! You know you want to! It's a worthy cause! Honestly, the more time I waste playing the game, the less time I'll work on this site and the less stuff you gotta read. Although why you'd be here if you didn't want to read is beyond me. Maybe you're lost. Okay, if you want to get out, click the little refresh button, okay? Good...what? You say it didn't let you out? Oh, well. You must be caught in a time warp. Keep pressing it. Maybe you'll break free. What's that. The little counter at the bottom keeps going up? Never mind. That's just how many times you have to click before you can leave. Good-bye.

Hey, I'm once again: back. I don't suppose you fell for that little thing about the refresh button. After all, you're a responsible, intelligent person who apparently has a lot of time on your hands. Well, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this site. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...sniffle The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...waits for applause okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...cricket chirps to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is ***** grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an *****-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the ***** grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the ***** and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least **** the monkey with the ***** and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I **** and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers snicker will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM

From the courtyard far below
We all heard the woman scream.
Faces at the windows saw
The masked assailant stalk his prey.


“Stop that”, someone shouted down.
but none went to the woman’s aide.
Not even did we call police
while she still might have been saved.


She screamed for help but no help came,
Her hands bled from defensive wounds.
Her killer made a final ******
And she folded in a swoon.

He grabbed her purse which was the prize
And left her in the courtyard, dead
Her name was Kitty Genovese
A pretty girl, the tabloids said.

A moment in a City’s life-
Not a source of civic pride
Glad she was not a child of mine
Did you watch the night that Kitty died?