Saturday, December 31, 2011

New Year's Is Upon Us All. So The Cat Gives It a Call!

The day has arrived to cut last year's ties.
Acting as if by magic one will become wise.
With a simple turn of the page comes a clean slate.
Pretending past matters get lost with the date.

For one night at least all seems right with the planet.
At least to those that take it for granted.
The facts do not change or somehow rearrange.
Half the world is still some firing range.

The champagne pours and all raise a glass.
Clinking and clanking as they wait in mass.
Wanting to countdown like a shuttle launch.
And why not? NASA has hit a money flow staunch.

The seconds tick away and the same song ensues.
The way some people sound you thank God for the booze.
Confetti continues dropping down on your head.
An act the poor street cleaners surely must dread.

But because it is new and giving us a yearly taste.
Who cares if we can fill a battleship with the waste?
We'll add that to the file of last year's doing.
After all that is last year's food you are chewing.

The clean slate applies when benefits outweigh the cost.
Just like a good political debate, keep the meaning lost.
Then the aftershock begins to wear off from your drunk.
And you find all as it was, white men still can't slamdunk.

At least use some Lysol or Bleach on that clean slate.
Maybe the shine will tempt your fate.
As you see a reflection of what you put out for prostitution.
The face of you that begins to deepen its resolution.

The crosswalk of time never gives a sign.
It waits for no one while your wishes mine.
The page may turn and the slate may gleam.
But only that which stares back can attain that dream.

The cat starting writing and that is what came out. So there you go for my New Year's shout. Hope all have a good one and do their usual fun. So go ahead, clinking and clanking that glass, as all you'll get is a Happy New Year in rhyme from my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Friday, December 30, 2011

A New Pet Has Joined The Crew. Warning! Might Be Disturbing To A Few!

So as a few may already know, like Betsy and her Santa that flaps to and fro, the cat gives gifts each year as well. Except some might land me in a padded cell. But you know what? Nobody ever seems to curse my little rhyming butt. Pat always seems to get the blame for my little funny gift game. The cat is done spreading Christmas cheer for the year but since it's over I figured I could spread a little fear. Of course I was egged on a bit in the comments below. So how could I not talk about the new pet at our show.

That's right! On Christmas Eve night we got a new pet at bush number three. It is quite the sight to see. For I have my spots, Miss Priss is oh so prissy with no knots and this thing has stripes. It also seems to cover pipes.

My Auntie seemed to go back to the Savannah where my descendants are from and got another pet to play with my little rhyming bum. It was a Zebra that joined our crew. Yeah, I guess they are fine pets. Who knew? There are three species of Zebra's as well. I think ours is of the Grevy's type I must tell. As they supposedly are the ones that more closely resemble an ass. That's a donkey for those wanting to speak less crass.

It came with some fine tricks. I guess it can grow if something attractive is thrown into the mix. It can make Zebra sounds on command. If one is long enough it can even shake your hand. Don't get too close though. It may go on the offensive and grow. Then it could poke you in the eye. But get it going and sooner or later it may not be so high. Unless it popped a pill, then you might be in for a four hour thrill. Get my innuendo yet? If not, in a second you will I bet.

Don't you just want to pet it? LOL Told you for some it might not be a hit.

So Auntie sent that as payback for the previous years gifts from the cat. Unfortunately it is too big for me so I gave it to Pat. That string in the back must surely ride. That could really cramp his stride. Plus I took a swing at it too. He was glad he had pants on between me and you. I guess whacking what is under there would hurt a bit, as I try to go give that Zebra thing a hit.

Whacking as a bad use of words too. I better stop before things turn blue. Strat! There I go once again, bringing up the plights of men. What? You want to pet it lass? Hmmm I think I started something bad today with my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

A Suggestion I Bring To All Those Letting A Resolution Fling!

You ready for the cats advice? It may not sound so nice. You may want me to choke on some mice or wish I'd get lice. Maybe even want to slice n' dice or tell me to go suck on some rice. I may say it more than twice but I'm prepared to pay the price. Plus you may think the cat is as cold as ice for ragging on you humans stupid vice but to be precise, it's about as meaningful as that Jesus toaster device. So your resolution crap I will splice and being mean will have to suffice.

Now is the time of year,
When one gives a cheer.
Saying they will do this and that.
Just annoying this cat.

For a New Year's resolution,
Continues its mind pollution.
Like some big magic trick,
Will happen and the thing will stick.

Got news for you,
That is just not true.
Saying it on the first of the year,
Does not kick it into gear.

Only in a fantasy world called your head,
You know, that thing you use the pillow for in bed.
Does this ever seem reasonable at all.
Now let's recall.

Hmmm you thought of this five months ago.
And were just waiting for New Year's to show.
Then you can spurt if off,
Pretending you don't need to be dunked in a horse trough.

So now you get to act all big and bright,
For one WHOLE night!
Whoopdi frggin doo,
Tomorrow you will still be you.

So you'll procrastinate some more,
Rolling around and whine on the floor.
Ohhh it's too hard.
Two days later, resolution = discard.

Because guess what schmuck,
You can yell Lord love a duck.
But those five WHOLE months you waited.
Like this resolution was fated.

You could have had whatever it is done.
In five WHOLE months, most normal people, can do a ton.
But ohhhhh no.
A New Year's resolution just had to flow.

Now you've gone from bright to dim,
And things still look just as grim.
Instead of doing it and it's done.
You just had to wait and let your mouth run.

But wait there are only 364 days left,
Maybe you can commit a theft.
Find a better idea to steal.
And just maybe it will become real.

So the cat's advice to all,
Whether short or tall.
Take the resolution and stick up your you know,
Lock your lips and don't let one flow.

When you want to do something do it.
Don't wait for some stupid day to hit.
Because if you don't do it then,
What are the chances you'll do it when you spout it out again?

That's right pretty small.
You'll still be behind the eight ball.
Get smacked upside the head by a cue.
Aren't you glad you came to view?

Were these were kind of harsh? Maybe they'll help get you out of that marsh. As the cat has heard quite a few, say the same thing over and over and over until they turn blue, with each New Year's that comes to pass and yet they still sit on their lazy ass.

Oh and notice the 2 days and 364 I said. Nope, not messed up in the head. As it's leap year this year remember? So of the resolution crap are you a member? Or have you wised up and are no longer a silly pup? Either way when you raise your glass you now have read the opinion of my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Don't You Love It When They Whine Thinking They Are So Divine!

Pat was sure feeling the love the other night, as he was set up just right. The little computer generated men could not find him because they were quite dim. But oh no! I had to be a big fat cheater at my show. Yep! It was all on me because they were too dim to see, that my little computer generated man was hiding in a bush. It wasn't like the cat's with a crack in its tush. That may be considered cheating but it could also have some very nice seating.

You know I always help out the people with good ideas for my what to do. Maybe I should help the whiners out just once so they have something new. I wouldn't want people to say the cat was one sided in his view. So without further adieu let's give the dim witted whiners a what to do.

What to do, What to do
When You Need An Excuse For The Losses That Accrue.

What can I do?
A loss came due.
My poor ego might never recover.
Now how can I impress my Xbox Live (3000 miles away) lover?

Wait! The guy is a camper.
That's what sent me to the clothes hamper.
To blow my poor nose,
After suffering such woes.

Yes! He has a turbo controller too.
Yes, yes that has to be true.
He also has a strong xbox,
Must have got it from a shiny box.

The little known glitch,
He must have hit the light switch.
Then rolled over three times,
And danced with mimes.

That was quite the glitch indeed,
I knew he used that to make me bleed.
Yes, yes, yes I must make him confess.
He shot through a tree is my guess.

Now I'll swear and bitch some,
Sounding like I have something up my bum.
With some high pitch voice,
I have no choice.

I have to impress that girl in the room.
After all she might have a magic broom.
And fly to my mothers basement soon.
Maybe he's using a magic spoon?

I got it, it's a cheat!
That is how I was beat.
Who cares if cheats went out ages ago.
He has a super duper cheat code at his show.

Now I'll let the swearing flow some more.
Because he just gave me an encore.
He really has to cheat,
For I can never be beat.

Forget about my growth,
That girl has to be impressed by my potty mouth.
And that I'm such an online tough guy.
Who cares if I lie?

These are all true facts.
He's using all these acts.
He's a camping, turbo controller using, cheat code, glitching, skippy noob with a strong xbox.
Excuse me well I go change my Hello Kitty socks.

Ummm whoops! Was I supposed to say what to do?
Hmmm well for some these excuses may be new.
So this edition has come to due.
And yep, heard them all, sad but true.

Strong xbox has to be the stupidest one I ever heard. That is just plain absurd. How does one get a strong xbox anyway? I can see an internet connection display. But strong xbox? Someone has the brains of an ox. And yes Pat loses all the time too. But doesn't turn him blue or make him need excuse after excuse. Doesn't even need to call a truce. Just let's it pass and then goes at it once again, as I sit here and rhyme away with my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

The Song Is A Hit So I Want 12 dVerse Days Damn It!

Now that it's all over and the presents have been raided by rover, any type of food they go for, seen that time and time again at my shore. Quite funny thinking about it now even though then one might have a cow. Anyway, what is with this song? It just makes the whole two days we get seem so wrong.

It says we get twelve days of Christmas each and every year. But twelve days never comes near. After two it's back to the grind for all and my little rhyming behind. I think those damn turtle doves messed it up for all of us. Or maybe those french hens just like to cuss. So the world agreed not to go past two when Christmas comes due.

Who wants all that crap anyway? Couldn't they make it something fun for ones bay? I mean all that noise sure isn't wanted by girls and boys. The cat would surely take that pipe and make those pipers have a gripe. Of course if they passed gas later on, I suppose they would still make noise at my lawn.

The rest is all birds and a bunch of overacted words. Do they really need to emphasize five rings, each and every time one sings? Why would a true love send any of this? Is there anyone who all of this crap would give bliss?

The drumming drummers need a smack with their stick.
The lords a leaping can be stopped with a good kick.
The pipers I already said what they can do.
But again they can shove the pipe up their gazoo.
Ladies dancing is kind of strange.
What happens if the sending true love is male on your range?
Would a woman really want to see ladies dancing?
Even if they were prancing?
Maids milking, I take it to be cows.
Would surely raise some eyebrows.
Swans swimming would freeze on the lake,
And they would look so fake.
Geese laying eggs would probably give a honk.
Making their head you just want to conk.
Five golden rings?
Hmmm does that mean you can have four other flings?
The promiscuous might like that.
Just think of five true loves sending all of that crap to your mat.
Calling birds would never shut up.
French hens and their language barrier would be a hiccup.
Well Strat! I think I answered my own questions today.
On why only two days of the twelve ever display.

It is because the rest are total crap. The turtles doves are a nice sight to see as away they fly with a wing flap. The partridge makes a yummy dinner I hear and the pear tree will give you fruit throughout most of the year. So two days are all we get each Christmas time because they rest would make people go crazy and commit an inhumane crime.

I think you'd still get thrown in jail for killing drummers and pipers as they wail. Think if we change the stuff these whacko lovers send we can start a twelve day trend? Just make it more dVerse and then twelve days off will be our blessing or our curse. Yeah, wishful thinking I know, which only means back to the grind we all go. Why did this song even have to come to pass? Oh well, at least it let some sass come from my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Monday, December 26, 2011

Making My OCD Sick And Giving Me A Boxing Bone To Pick!

Boxes are big, Boxes are small.
Boxes are wide, Boxes are tall.
They help you move,
None of that I need to prove.

In fact I approve,
Doesn't throw off my OCD groove.
Even if the flimsy ones can improve
Okay, this current mind track I need to remove.

For it has nothing to do with boxes like that,
Those don't annoy the cat or Pat.
Maybe boxing day?
Nope, that just gives me an excuse my way.

As I go on a rant,
Here at my plant.
On those who make TV on DVD set ones.
You'd think they lost brains by the tons.

Can't be all the same,
Oh no! They have to play a game.
One box is big,
Next one is as thin as a twig.

Then it goes back to big once more?
I guess they can't make up their damn mind at their shore.
Big, big, big, small
I can understand at my stall.

But going back and forth is just dumb.
Whoever came up with that idea needs a kick in the bum.
Then you got the ones that are short,
Next season is tall when it comes to port.

Some are wider than the one before,
Sticking out on the shelf more.
Then they go from plastic,
Thankfully with no stinking elastic,

To cardboard and back again.
Must be ran my many men.
Or a crackpot that can't make up is mind.
Could just be trying to annoy my little behind.

Yep, see it's all a conspiracy against me.
Hey, blame my OCD.
Don't they know it looks stupid on a shelf?
When they could be a nice little movie elf.

They could make them all the same size and shape,
Not making them look like they were produced by an ape.
I only mean for each series too,
Because all copying the same format would never come due.

Heck, some can't even make two seasons in a row match.
If they had to all their brains may fully detach.
So for boxing day my OCD took over the show.
The cat has to let it flow.

Or it just won't shut up in my head,
Continually causing me dread.
That's the facts of my TV on DVD Box sets class,
Now back to putting the new ones in alphabetical order goes my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Ho Ho Ho! It's A Rhyme Time Christmas Show!

It's Christmas Day and I'm guessing a whole five people might come by my way. So I won't have much to say. Other then Merry Christmas to all and I will leave something to display. They say pictures say a thousand words. So here you are as I go chase some birds.

Miss Priss and I, each stood like some human girl and guy. Then we pranced around just for you. Wasn't that fun to view? Time to go and pick on Cass and that is all on this Christmas day from my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Let's Turn Back The Clock! Don't Get A Shock!

Today we are going to hop in that DeLorean and go 88 or the cat Time Machine to open time's gate. We are going to go back and try to change whoever started this trend in some home on the range. Wouldn't you think they'd pick something less stinky? Or less dinky? I mean they could have used a bucket or pot and got a whole lot. But oh no! They had to go and use a sock at their show. What better day to fix this then Christmas Eve? So now more goodies can be had thanks to this little pet peeve. See what I did there? On with the rest if you dare.

Socks are full of holes,
Socks will never hold my goals.
So let's go back and suggest,
They start a different quest.

Bring out the bucket,
Or steal it from that guy in Nantucket.
Even if you use it for slop,
Wash it and let the goodies drop.

It can hang over the fire.
Unlike a sock it won't be as dire.
All the bucket will do is singe or melt.
A sock will burn like Santa's money belt.

Then there is a pot,
Which always gets hot.
As you use it for stew,
So why not hang and chew?

Or would that be slurp?
You sure wouldn't chirp.
Heck! Why not use the whole house?
No one is stirring, not even a mouse.

So just say the house needs its fill.
And then poof tons of goodies at your hill.
Yeah, that would be a tad greedy,
And Santa might not be so speedy.

We wouldn't want him to take ten days,
To go all around emptying those cookie trays.
So just dedicate one room.
Think big, don't just remove the broom.

A closet will not do,
Aren't you glad I told you?
Maybe a car?
If you leave the door ajar.
Of course a thief might steal,
Are you telling me to get real?
For rooms and cars don't hang?
Oh Lurch, I never gave a rang.

Don't ruin my jive,
I'm trying to make the socks take a dive.
All other clothes have too many holes,
And shoes have worn soles.

A box can sorta hang,
A pringle can might go bang.
And if it is one of mine,
Things just wouldn't turn out fine.

A laundry basket would do,
Comes in all sizes too.
But none of those look nice?
Maybe if you attach some fuzzy dice?

Like worn socks look nice,
Probably infested with lice.
Ohhhh I got it now.
This will really wow.

Time for the old switcharoo,
As socks are no longer in view.
Now we have a king sized pillow case,
They can be fancy too and look nice at your place.

See! Now more goodies will fit.
Aren't you glad for my wit?
No? I'm a twit?
Bah, you're just jealous of my hit.

For the pillow case idea will change all.
As it's adapted at a past hall.
Now back to the future we go.
Yeah, really the present that I know.

Hmph it did not change?
After my time rearrange,
It is still socks everywhere.
This I cannot bear.

Maybe the cat will just cut a hole,
That's an easier goal.
Then place a box below,
And Santa will never know.

So even if my idea was a flop,
At least I gave a Christmas sock hop.
Has to be Santa and that magic,
Smelly socks are still so tragic.

I think I socked you all out for today. So that is all from my bay. No facts to say. Simply have a nice Christmas Eve day. The cat has to now stop his sass and go chew a hole in the sock of this little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Friday, December 23, 2011

Let The Dogs Out! Or Put Them Down, Just End Their Howling Shout!

There are many annoyances to living in an apartment building each day. But about most of them I have already had my say. Yet the other night there truly was a fright. The cat has heard hounds and thunder even people as they move and plunder. Some fireworks and fire alarms as well but nothing like this hell.

The cat had just finished bumming from Pat's plate and went off to his usual fate. I will spare you the details of licking certain parts and doing what can come after farts. As I was through burying the crap, ready to take my evening nap, there arose such a clatter, I knew something was the matter.

Some cheerful music was coming from the lobby. It magically appeared like Dobby. The cat looked all about and decided it was fine and went back to me and mine. I climbed the cat tree and swung around like a monkey. Miss Priss and I began to fight, like we do every night.

But we stopped all of a sudden and perked our ears. For what we heard was worse then any of our usual fears. There we stood on our hindlegs with our heads to the sky. Looking like a meerkat, you know, that Timon guy.

When came such a pitch we headed for the nearest ditch. Miss Priss exactly climbed to the very top cupboard and hid, really flipping her lid. While I ran for my hidy hole. For each of us blocking that sound was the goal.

We could not tell if it was woman or man. All we knew was we heard better noises when Pat flushed the can. "Oh Holy Night" it surely was not. Instead of rotten fruit someone should have thrown a pot. It at least would have put that howler out of their misery. For The Howler did not spread any Christmas glee.

I'll take the scary Easter bunny any day. My ears were in such dismay. Then there was some paper roses or something. Thankfully someone must have gave the super a ring or they had to scram, stopping their little jam. The music they could play but oh the Howler caused complete and utter dismay.

Think the voice of Iago the bird with a howling dog mixed in that can't pass a turd. The cat would never stiffle someones want or for such a thing, more than likely, out right taunt. But for the love of God do it in the shower, one with lots of power. At least maybe that way no one will suffer but you. Sad but true.

So when cats ears perk up beyond belief and they run away to get some relief, as soon as your voice hits. Know it could mean you sound like the pits. Pat is prob just as bad, so don't be sad. But do it out of the cat's hearing range because listening just made my face look strange. That is all the musical facts from me today class. Too bad the ears are still ringing of my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Here Is A Cheer! It's The Most Shortest Day Of The Year!

I guess it's the most shortest day of the year. But that seems like a redundant thing to my little rear. Still work the same amount of time, still do a little chime with my rhyme and look a full 24hrs happen with each clock chime. Hmmm maybe there is a new definition for short that I have not heard of at my court. Let's look at this shall we? I wouldn't want to be shortsighted at my sea.

So today is supposed to be short,
But I'm here to report.
That is just not the case.
Here is proof, so try to keep pace.

No shortage of hours,
Or short circuiting powers.
Shortstops still play,
With no shortcuts to convey.

Won't foreshorten lines,
No shortness of landmines.
Shortening still sprouts,
With no shortcake droughts.

Shortlists still compile,
My shorthand is vile.
Shortwave radio works,
Sensing shortfalling jerks.

I wasn't shortchanged,
Or shorthanded at my range.
Shortia's still bloom,
And shortbread brings doom.

Still can wear shorts,
Shortie shorts from some reports.
I'm never shortish,
Maybe shorter some wish.

So this is the short and the long of it.
Get Shorty was arguably a hit.
The shortbus is full,
Martin Short no longer has pull.

Short term memory still goes tick.
Avoid getting the short end of the stick.
Many still short on cash.
A short temper makes one rash.

Wasn't that short and sweet?
Sorry, if you're so short your license shows your feet.
But as you can see,
Nothing of any short at bush number three.

I also heard a sad story the other day. It is sure to cause dismay. A short person committed suicide after a blow to their pride. It seems they balled out their eye lids watching Honey I Shrunk the Kids.

What? I can't hear you. You seem to be out of my view. I wish you would stand up when talking to me. Oh, you are standing up, hmmm sorry.

See no shortage of short replies here. But what if you are in a place with light six months a year? You can't argue shortness of day or night. So the shortness once again takes flight. The shortest day of the year is all perception. But it allows me to use a short joke or two so I'll make an exception. I also have no shortage of gas and that is the short report from my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Only One Year Away! Won't It Be a Delightful Day!

When fire and brimstone rain down over our head and bring with it so much dread. When poof goes this and that maybe even the blog of the cat. Oh no! We can't have no rhyming show. Pffft, yeah right! And this cat turns into a ten legged, three toed, six eyed, vampire, werewolf cross at night.

Just read a thing saying on that faithful day, "The World Will Drastically Change," and poor us will no longer be able to play. You know what? That actually is a statement that doesn't sound like it came out of some nut. For yes it will change. This Mayan crap will have run out of range. No more will we hear of this stupid prophecy garbage and other crap. For it will officially take the big dirt nap.

The day I believe a bunch of dead guys and girls wrote some fancy smancy twirls, giving us the end of the line. Is the day I believe the face I saw in my chicken nugget was a sign. Of course barring time travel and some alien stuff, they can write and huff and puff, but all of it is just people being scaredy dogs, covered in multiple fogs. You want to believe something bad enough, you will find it no matter how tough.

So I can sit here and make my own calender for the years to come and people will bow down to my little rhyming bum. As I will be correct in each and every case. All it takes is being totally and utterly vague and referencing some crap in space. Then the stupid humans will go and add significance to it because on some historical point it seemed to hit. POOF! I must now be part Mayan or something. For those magic future seeing powers I bring.

Of course the rich like your fear. They probably even stand up and cheer. You make their trash overbloated movies sell great and buy in bulk to try and increase your fate. Big scary Y2K came and went no matter how much people or some nut got bent. Ohhhh wait! They had an excuse for that. It was some John Titor guy who saved our Earthly mat. Pffft! Once more humans trying to reason out the stupid crap they shout, because they can't admit they are wrong. So they look for an excuse and sing some stupid song.

Plus I said it before but it deserves an encore. The Earth will not end! It will still be here my short sighted friend. May be barren and void of any living creature. But the Earth will still be a feature. So saying the planet will end is also dumb and then some. Of course we're all supposed to become enlightened too. Hmmmm for some that may take a lot to come due. I think the enlightenment train might have quite the pain, as it tries to fill the human mind, for some it simply won't be able to find.

There is my rant for the day with my usual rhyme play. If you still buy into the crap. Feel free to let your lips flap. I will get a good laugh out of it and won't have a fit. But if per chance the cat is wrong and some big power bats us around like ping pong. I can admit it easily even if we're all dead and I can't type at my sea. Seek me out in the great beyond and I will respond. Saying my facts were wrong in mass and then you can curse my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Some dVerse Actions Over Certain Transactions!

I think you will get the facts of today. As I go a tad literal maybe at my bay. Or just stating the use of language you humans choose as I go on another dVerse cruise. I hope I don't leave a brain bruise as I try and just maybe confuse.

A stamp stamps,
From forms to lamps.
A stapler staples,
Whether in Japan or Naples.

A pencil umm writes?
I guess pencils gave too many frights.
Pencil penciling might work,
Penciling pencil does sound like a weird quirk.

A printer prints,
Even cheats and hints.
A calculater calculates,
Or at least approximates.

A phone umm rings?
With do dads for plenty of other things.
A phoning phone,
Yeah, phoning using a phoning phone might make some moan.

A shredder shreds,
If caught, even your threads.
A lock locks,
Letting you avoid pesky knocks.

A mouse ummm clicks?
Mouses would sound like hicks.
Or would that be mice?
Mouse mousing mice, say that twice.

A controller controls,
Meaning the one with joystick poles.
Oh that sounds so bad,
We'll blame it on that Pat lad.

A fan fans,
Your hot head or hands.
A clipper clips,
Should do it to Flappy's lips.

A cat umm meows?
Cat cats or catting language disallows.
Dogs just bark,
But we both like to leave our mark.

Rhyme time rhymes,
With plenty of chimes.
dVerse is diverse,
Some even curse.

A winner wins,
No matter their sins.
A loser loses,
Whether or not one chooses.

Well you umm are you?
A youer wouldn't do.
Youy you youer work?
Sounds like youy you and your you went berserk.

As you doesn't have one,
For it can't be done.
All are too dVerse for a summation,
Even if the victim of sterilization.

There we go another dVerse show. I guess sort of a sequel to last week maybe here at my sea. Never intended to go there but the cat can do a dVerse pair. After all if Caddy Shack 2 can get the greenlight, I can let one take flight. Now off to eat some cat grass. So that is all from my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Monday, December 19, 2011

Drazin and The Lie Slayer! With An Added Feline Layer!

It was a nice and sunny day when a letter came under the door our way. Being the cat I am I tore it to shreds but Miss Priss decided to read a few threads. A cat that can read. Hey, why not? I rhyme at my feed. Anyway, it was from that Drazin nut, which had us figuring he was back in his cat slipper rut. But as Miss Priss read what was left. It seemed he wanted our help with a theft. We figured it was a trick yet we were curious and besides, it's been a while since we one upped that so call god prick.

So off we went to a department store of all places, with short, fat, big, tall and every other human scrunched up in little spaces. All after that last minute bargain and some even speaking techno jargan. Then a shadow set upon our back and we turned around ready for an attack. There was baldy Drazin with his eyes all a glow and it wasn't long before he began to crow.

"If all Drazin had to do was send you a letter, Drazin would have done that months ago. It would have saved Drazin so much trouble. Drazin never would have had to see bug eyes either. Drazin still holds you two fleabags responsible for that."

He said his name another few dozen times and as he went about his worthless chimes, we noticed his feet weren't bare. They were actually covered in slippers made of cat hair. He noticed we were looking and gave a smile. I swear the damn thing stretched a mile.

"So you two fleabags noticed Drazin's new slippers? You see Drazin captured one of those elves and it turns out they can't make toys worth a damn. Drazin heard Leprechuans do that anyway. But Drazin found out they can make some nifty shoes. So Drazin squeezed their neck until The Great God Drazin once more had nice warm slippers to cover Drazin's feet."

"Did you just invite us here to say your name over and over? I have to admit though you look so much more godly now with slippers on."

Miss Priss rolled her eyes at the so called godly one and he asked if we were ready to have some fun. It seems the Santa's in the mall had all gone over the wall. Some guy called the Lie Slayer was around acting all profound. He made the kiddies cry exposing the fake Santa's as a lie. Drazin said he wanted to let this guy prove him a lie but it was clear he wanted this guy to die. I guess Drazin had a soft spot for Christmas or something to that affect and wanted to protect. We figured if Scrooge could change, maybe Drazin could too, no matter how strange.

But the part he neglected to tell the cat, is he wanted me to put on the Santa hat. It seems he only appeared when a new Santa came to the mall. Drazin thought a cat pretending to be Santa would really get him to answer the call.

"Why don't you just do it? The shine from your bald head to bright for the kids?"

"Drazin wouldn't be caught dead in that thing."

"I guess it's a good things gods don't die then, huh?"

"Red clashes with Drazin's eyes. So shut up fleabag. You get to play Santa's little wife."

Miss Priss and Drazin argued forever. I have to admit she was quite clever. Then we dressed up and sat in the chair. I really think even the two year olds were aware. For cats as Santa just don't work. Some of the kids even went berserk. The screaming seemed to attract this guy, as the Lie Slayer caught me eye. He was dressed in purple spandex of course, yapping about how us fakers needed to show remorse.

"We need to show remorse? You rip off Barney and we need to show remorse?"

"Quiet, you small creatures! I will show the world what fakes you really are."

He trotted up and yanked off our Santa clothes and wiggled his little bull nose. He acted all proud, like he made a big reveal to the crowd.

"Oh no! You exposed a couple of cats. Great job Barney! You going to sing I love you, you love me now?"

"I'm not Barney! Shut up fleabags!"

He went to step on Miss Priss and I but then he began to wet himself and started to cry.

"Drazin is the only one that calls them fleabags. Drazin was waiting to get a chance at you. So do you think Drazin is a fake? Or is Drazin truly a god?"

"You're a god, you're a god. Please Mr. God sir. Let me go!"

Drazin curled his nose up as the Lie Slayer looked like he spilled the contents of his cup. His spandex was kind of yellowish now. I think I even heard him meow. Drazin ripped his mask off and tried not to cough. His face was as ugly as a troll. It was clear his parents should have used birth control. But as I drew closer to this thing, my brain gave a ring. It was the stupid troll that got me caught by the Easter Bunny. This truly was funny. The big bad troll, looked like nothing more than a quivering mole.

"Drazin will just let all these folks see what happens when they stop believing in Santa. See kids! Your face shrivels up and gets stuck that way. Have a nice day!"

The crowd all scattered as Drazin tossed the troll aside. Their eyes were some wide and the look of disgust, could quell even the deepest amount of lust. The troll sprang to his feet and refused defeat.

"I will stop all holidays! The Lie Slayer will have his way!"

He laughed over the top and did some weird bunny hop, as he ran out of view and it seems we had a break through. Drazin no longer looks at us like slippers or a pair of flippers. He gave us a sly smirk and went back to being a jerk.

"Drazin still needs a hat. So watch out fleabags, Drazin will get you yet."

"Maybe when those godly powers show up you'll stand a chance."

Miss Priss laughed as we strolled away, heading back for our bay. Drazin did not even give chase. I guess today the spirit had him in its embrace. But who knows what future crap Drazin will do. After all he does have a loose screw. Also he's quite the hot air mass. And so ends another tale involving my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

I'm A dVerse Cheat. But Rules Are Meant To Be Beat!

So over at dVerse there is a display of art and like always they try and steer my cart. Pffft we can't have any of that. I am a dirty rotten cat, meaning I will cheat. Might even type with my feet. Wait! When I pull up a seat all four paws are feet. I guess I already do that then here at my den. But alas I went off topic once more, which I often do at my shore.

Brian said to pick one and have some fun. But that just won't do. I'd rather bite off almost more than I can chew. Which doesn't seem to be much that I've come across. Now before I leave you at a loss or make you flustered at my sea, off I go on my normal rhyming spree.

The cat decided to take a ride,
Across the great divide.
Whatever that really means,
Heard it on some TV screens.

So I hopped a balloon,
With some business tycoon.
He was rather mean,
And a bit unclean.

First chance I got,
I kicked him in the butt.
Off he flew,
Crashing in the deep blue.

Don't worry there was an island nearby,
He could ride off on turtles like that Jack Sparrow guy.
Oh yeah! That was a lie.
Bah, he can still give it a try.

Now I was in control,
As I went on my worldly patrol.
Then I saw a girl on a cliff,
All teary eyed and trying not to sniff.

Even though humans annoy the cat,
I stopped and picked up the rugrat.
She hugged me and blew her nose,
Oh my OCD curled my toes.

Although I admit the teddy bear looked tasty,
But I didn't want to be too hasty.
As she said she fell from the sky.
And her magic bear, Rudy, was a special guy.

The thing had powers I guess.
I didn't buy it I will confess.
As Rudy saved her from the fall,
Yet she was transported far from her hall.

There all the kids have balloons attached,
Which keeps them nice and latched.
These are magic too,
And one special girl, that's her, had a whole slew.

Or more correctly a big one.
Without her the island might fall from the sun.
Her evil step brother wanted to assume the rights,
To the big balloon flights.

But only the pure of heart can wield it,
She was sure he was having a fit.
I admit it was an imaginative tale.
And she could tell I thought her story was a fib the size of a whale.

Yet the brave little one pushed my buttons just right,
Causing me to take a detour that night.
Not that I believed her plight.
At least not until it came into sight.

She smiled at me so big,
I thought she'd dance a jig.
I wasn't about to admit I was wrong,
And she knew it would take to long.

For their great city was sinking into the sea,
And all their secrets began to flee.
As a boater easily saw the thing,
And a hot air balloon was going to give it a ring.

It seems it was the closest thing the army had,
For obviously they thought the place was bad.
So their first reaction was to blow it up.
But I handled that little hiccup.

I popped their little balloon,
And they twirled like in some cartoon.
Around and around they went.
Until the hot air was spent.

Then they went for a swim,
And by the looks of it some could be more trim.
So I did them a favour as well.
Even if I heard them damn me to Hell.

We got closer and she hugged Rudy, the bear.
Poof! We vanished into thin hair.
That thing was nifty,
I'm sorry I looked at it rather shifty.

There we were in the house of her evil step brother.
We had even enslaved their mother.
He wasn't about to step down,
And barely cared about the sinking town.

The girl wanted me to get Rudy close,
She shoved him in my mouth like a mouse.
I was tempted to chew on it.
But I caught on to her quick wit.

She yelled at her brother keeping him busy,
Stirring him into a tizzy.
I slunk along the wall,
And climbed the curtains trying not to let Rudy fall.

The girl smiled at me,
And I set Rudy free.
It was a direct hit,
For I hit her evil step brother right where he sit.

With one touch of the bear he went poof.
I guess I needed no more proof.
Especially when she set everything right,
And the floating city once again reached a great height.

She thanked me and we said our goodbyes.
I will admit the rugrat was wise.
With one touch of the bear,
I was back on my balloon without a care.

As I left I spyed her hopping in the rain,
Down some stone lane.
She waved as I set course,
I was still not able to fathom that bear's power source.

But alas I let it go,
And I'm sure you want to know.
What happened to the evil step brother that went poof.
Well I hear somewhere far far away there is a goof.

He swears there is a floating land in the sky,
But no one will listen thinking his well has run dry.
As he truly does pop a pill,
I hear Nurse Ratchet makes sure he gets his fill.

What will come next as I float into the sun?
I'm sure there will be a ton.
Like the giant with one ear.
You all come back now, you hear.

See, why settle for one when you can do four. Just no ambition at the dVerse shore. Of course I only jest. I just like being a pest. So I invent my own facts with my dVerse acts. And look what happened at my nook. There was an almost G tale that came to pass. Unless Hell counts as G, then I went all G with my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

I Guess It's Not Longer Rude To Play With Your Food!

There you go kids now when you play and your parents flip their lids, you can say their reasoning is no longer valid. Besides who wants that nasty salad. The dog won't even lap that up. So stash it in your cup. Then pretend you are done but take your drink as you go off for fun. Then proceed to flush in down the loo and there is a little Face it Facts trick I used to do.

So back to the task of food as the other day something irked Brian's attitude. At first I thought it had to be a hoax, just some fool out there somewhere telling jokes. But then in the comments below at his show, he gave the link and my faith in you humans continued to sink. But I guess faith is what it's all about as it could really "rolls eyes" bring about the most devout.

That's right! Jesus Toasters will end your suffering this very night. But wait! There is more. If you order three to your shore, you get a Virgin Mary Toaster FREE. Isn't that just so Christmas-y? So now you can eat with Jesus for breakfast each morning although they really should issue a warning. As after you invite him in, you commit such a sin. You have to bite off his ear, after of course some jam or jelly or whatever it is you smear.

So now you're a cannibal invitee but oh his face you got to see. That must cause such glee. I suppose you can truly say you bring Him into your house each and every day. It's a wonder that's not their tag line to try and get you to buy and dine. I wouldn't put it past them one bit to add that to their commerical fit. But then again "Butter up to Jesus" is pretty bad. Aren't you so wanting one for your pad?

Now they also have Obama's face. So you can dine with the President at your place. Then chow down on his mug and act all smug. Never fear though, no matter your association at your show, they have a color for all parties too. So you won't feel politically left out as you chew.

So those three faces you get to eat. They all have an important beat. The later is arguable maybe but we won't go there at my sea. Now what could possibly follow their important act? A dog paw print to be exact. That is right. After those three a dog paw print must feel so right. Maybe with dog paw toast they are trying to prevent you from feeding Fido? Damned if I know.

Who the heck would buy one of these? When instead could be doing something useful like ridding Fido of fleas. But I guess there must be a market for burnt toast. Next it will be The Pope pot roast. Or maybe the Queen's ribs followed by you pulling out some bibs. Then having King Tut crab made in some top secret lab. Some Odin soup and some Zeus poop. The last one would be chocolate though just so you know.

And humans have the nerve to complain when they let such stuff continue to rain. Then again I guess everything is someones scene, like used panties in a vending machine. Yeah, still hung up on that. Just plain ewww to the cat. This was all to make fun of the Brave Little Jesus Toaster nothing more. So don't go getting all bent out of shape at my shore. Not that many would but you never know some could. Hmmm maybe I should take a burnt toast class and then you all could eat toast burnt with the shape of my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Friday, December 16, 2011

You Know You're Super When! You Have At Least, Let's Say, Three of Ten!

So the Grammar Nazi won the draw that the cat picked out with his claw. So today in honor of him and his Comical whenever he feels like posting it Wednesday, the cat is going all superhero at his bay. For the cat will let you know what it takes to be a real hero. Stick with me and you will never become a zero.

#10 - You need some get up and go power for the good deeds to shower. Plus you have to get some PR going. So hand out some cupcakes while being super and lawn mowing.

#9 - You can't be super without some soup. You need a great meal or things may droop. Trust me I know! Remember Green Suit Man at my show? He made many shiver and probably sent some packing up river.

#8 - You need your own towel to sell. So you will no longer have to promote by ringing the doorbell. Now every time people wipe themselves clean. All over their body your face will be seen.

#7 - You need a stamp too. So everyone can get their licks in on you. Seeing that you are rather sticky. Come now! Don't be picky.

#6 - You need your own game. Which is usually based off a movie and lame. So it gives people something to stick on their wall. You are really really super now letting people decorate their hall.

#5 - You need your own bed wear. It may get full of hair. But you can save people from bad dreams. And for those grown ups still using them it seems, maybe you can join in. On something that might be considered a sin.

#4 - Get a tattoo. Heck! Why not get two. Yeah, that blinking syndrome you may get, could be a safe bet. But with a tramp pretty stamp of your own, some serious calls may start lighting up your phone.

#3 - Now no self respecting Superhero would be caught dead. Not having pretty undies they can wear below or even on their head. You must have these done. Maybe even pose on a billboard for fun.

#2 - What's the first thing everyone thinks about in the loo? Who cares! Because from now on it will be you. Just make sure it isn't rough and can avoid ripping easily, meaning it needs to be a tad tough.

#1 - The number one way to ensure your superhero status among the best and pass the superpower test, is to simply build a shrine all your own. Warning! To do so you may have to take out a sizable loan.

Honorable mentions for a try at being a superhero thing umm I mean guy!

Sorry mutt! You seem to be stuck in a rut. A hotdog can't be a hotdog. It makes no sense and will not leave anyone in the fog. You need a secret identity. One no one can guess easily.

See this guy has it down. His secret identity would never be spotted in any town. As long as it did not rain. Then it would reveal he was a crazy person from Maine. A good try and will work as long as it stays dry. He saves you from forgetting each day. Just use a post it and when it's time, your note he will relay.

So there are the facts you need, all thanks to the cat's feed, to become super duper above all the rest. Did you pass the cat's superhero test? Remember that it's cheaper to produce things in mass and that is all from my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

The Cat Got A Frog Suit And Can Play a Flute!

I was minding my own business once more and I heard a knock at the door. I knew unless by some fluke, it couldn't be that Drazin mook. For I would have heard his name a thousand times already, as he says it quite steady. But still after all the crap. I ignored them and took a nap. The knocking ceased as I rested my head and it wasn't until I awoke that I was filled with dread.

I was standing looking all 2D and things were truly crazy. A turtle with a snapping yap and a hole in the ground laid out like a trap, quickly came into view. This could not be true. I jumped on the turtles head and kicked the shell. I hit a block and out came a mushroom. Really, what the hell?

I grew in size as it hit my hand and as I made my way through this strange land, out popped a leaf like it fell off a tree. I was such a sight to see. It now turns out when I ran really fast I could fly, but sadly I can still fall down the hole and die.

But it seemed if I collected lots of coins just hanging in the air, death wasn't such a scare. I just came back alive, if I took a nosedive. Who left these coins all over anyway? A litterbug that didn't want to pay? After collecting more and not wanting an encore, I thought this thing was through when I reached a black screen, popping a ever changing block and ending the scene. But that was only the start and it was the least toughest part.

It seems some Koopa clan were not a fan. Larry, Morton and Roy, oh joy! Don't they sound so threatening and scary? But Ludwig Von Koopa sounded a bit contrary. It seems I had to jump on their head in order to make them dead. All this head jumping seems to be their version of humping. Except those spiky things, I guess that's the equivalent of catching a disease after one too many flings. You attack those from far away. Sounds about right, wouldn't you say?

But that wasn't even the beginning of my fun, as there was even a crazy attacking sun. It chased me through a big litter box. Thankfully I got a flute and bypassed some locks. I turned into a frog and could hop, I had a shell head and let the hammers drop and I even turned into a raccoon. That was a terrible ordeal for this loon.

Plants came out of tubes snapping, some ghosts started flapping and did I mention I could shoot fireballs? Too bad they couldn't bounce off the walls. I had to swim too. The cat doesn't mind the bathtub or sink in the loo, but going so deep into the sea did not delight me. I could also sit on my butt and slide down a hill, knocking out all the bad guys, what a thrill.

I got asked where some Yoshi pet was and apparently a Luigi was jealous just because he felt overshadowed by me. Some Peach I had to free. Why couldn't it just be an apple? Oh right! Eve already gave that a grapple. I even heard of a Birdo, was it a cross between a bird and a deer? I don't know.

Finally there was the big bossman. He floated about in some tin can. It had a happy face too. That just made him sooo much more scarier then his Koopa crew. After Wendy O. Koopa and that pink bow, that really is hard to do you know. So King Koopa gave a laugh sounding like some crossbred giraffe. Pffft and I thought Drazin was a loon. But I guess he was happy because he replaced some Donkey Kong baboon. Like throwing barrels is hard to top. I guess that's what started this sock hop.

After a while the poor lizard thing fell upside down and I jumped on the kingly one smushing his crown. I was then able to reach that pink Peach, as she was no longer out of reach. But the king swore his revenge on me. I guess this was only part three. Then I received a letter from the Peach because I guess she really wanted to teach. Like being royalty isn't enough. I'm sure she has it so rough. As I read an item showed up and it was in the shape of a trophy cup.

It said I had won and now was done. I guess some plumber named Mario needed a break and they thanked me as the ground began to quake. It opened up and sucked me in and thanks to my great big win, I now was returned home. I think I really need to build a force field dome. The crazies won't leave me be or I need a more threatening bush number three. I do feel bad killing turtles in mass. Yet that is what you get when you try and bite my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Those Damn Things Are Back! Their Heads Came Through The Door Crack!

The cat was minding his own business, or at least pretending too, thinking of all the Christmas characters that there are to view, when these not so Christmas-y twerpy orange things, once again showed up at my wings.

You'd think they would take the hint and go pop a poisonous mint. I suppose it beats the killer Easter bunny or all those cereal mascots pretending to be funny. But bush number three has no room for such ugly little orange things that give their advice for free.

Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-doo,
I’ve got a perfect puzzle for you.
Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-dee,
If you are wise you’ll listen to me.
What do you get from a red nose?
Prancing, Dashing and Donning no clothes.
Beside the cold making you look rather small,
And getting to carry a great big haul?
You'll get no
You'll get no
You'll get no
You'll get no face full of relief.
Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-da,
Being first lets you avoid the wet bar.
So you will live in happiness too.
Like the Oompa Loompa do-ba-dee-doo.

That poor reindeer sure took a hit. If these guys didn't look so creepy I might like their little skit. I wonder what made their hair go green? Where could that head have been stuck for such a scene? Damn! They keep interrupting me. I need to make them flee.

Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-doo,
I’ve got another puzzle for you.
Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-dee,
If you are wise you’ll listen to me.
A magic hat might seem fun,
Giving you legs and letting you run.
But the appeal loses its charm,
When almost everything could cause harm.
Not to mention the yellow snow.
Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-da,
Avoid being made of snow and looking bizarre.
So you will live in happiness too.
Like the Oompa Loompa do-ba-dee-doo.

Are they saying something about the cat's hat? I can take it off and smush them flat. I will still be able to rhyme even if I get chucked in jail for a orange man murder spree crime.

Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-doo,
I’ve got another puzzle for you.
Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-dee,
If you are wise you’ll listen to me.
Who do you blame for working all day?
For a fat jolly slave driver at your bay.
The kids may seem like an easy culprit.
Don't be foolish and raise the pulpit.
Blame the damn comericals.
Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-da,
Know shoes are less appealing than a toy car.
Now you will live in happiness too.
Like the Oompa Loompa do-ba-dee-doo.

I guess it takes one to know one, right? Both the elves and these weirdos are kind of challenged when it comes to height. But now it's time for them to take flight and I will not wish them a good night.

Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-doo,
I’ve got another puzzle for you.
Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-dee,
If you are wise you’ll listen to me.
What do you do if you have no cheer?
Shouting Humbug to whoever is near.
As you stroll across town,
You may get looked at with a frown
But your pockets still jingle.
Oompa Loompa, do-ba-dee-da,
With bags of money you can go far.
Now you will live in happiness too.
Like the Oompa,
Oompa Loompa do-ba-dee-doo.

That is right scram! Or the cat will make you into jam. Look at those oranges things scurry down the hall. I guess they do fear the cat's call. So the facts are, if those orange mooks ever come near your bar, give them a cat meow and hiss, not some mistletoe kiss, and off they will run. Or better yet just get a gun. Help their misery pass and that is all from my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

With Seven Billion Do You Think You Are A dVerse Civilian?

So today as we go down the dVerse path we are going to do a little math. Damn! It looks like that word just cut my views in half. You'd think I was going to ask you to plot a graph. For those that remain find the value of X and then the value of Y and use that to find Z on the first try. Yes! I kid. Don't go and flip your lid. But I read a phrase the other day and it brought on this little diddy at my bay. So without further delay I will shut up and let you solve the problem of the day.

Great Job! Well Done!
All you hear as their lips run.
You so feel the love,
Whack! Across your face goes the glove.

You are "One In a Million,"
Hell, why not just call you reptilian?
No longer are you proud,
Looking on at the cheering crowd.

For you just felt the burn,
And in one quick turn,
Learn there are 6999 more,
Who get your score.

You begin to freak,
No longer are you unique.
7000 of you are walking around,
Across the globe they can be found.

They could be tall,
Don colors and spray paint a wall.
They could be fat,
Or get shown up by a rhyming cat.

They could live in Chile,
Constantly playing with Wet Willy.
Even Paris Hilton could be in your batch,
Someone needs to strike a match.

Thoughts burned into your mind,
Searching the daily grind.
Things are becoming dire,
Wanting to set yourself on fire.

Wait! A new thought springs,
As your radio sings.
Wanted Dead or Alive,
Hey! Beats I Will Survive.

What about the dead?
Those billions hurt your head.
Another 15,000 of you are toast.
In bliss or having a weanie roast.

Your collar is getting hot,
As you park in the lot.
How could they call you that?
Scoffing at a shredded hat.

Quickly eyeballing the sign,
Continuing your whine.
No longer able to detach,
He could be in your 7000 batch.

"Fallen on hard times,"
Jiggling for dollars and dimes.
Adding to the shredded vermillion,
"You are truly one in a zillion."

Zillion, a fake, a fraud, a phoney.
The number is total baloney.
Finally you get a clue,
Through eyes big and blue.

Comparisions come and go,
Down river the sewage will flow.
The bridge will lapse,
Or completely collapse.

But that which is true,
Is enlightened from within you.,
Deadly sin cower,
As knowledge you devour

Hmph, did I just go all moral of the story? I didn't even get gory. That is where the cat's mind went as I saw the phrase and used it against what "math wise" it truly meant. So now you know the facts and with the million phrase there are 7000 acts. But let the shock pass and know you are almost as unique as my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Monday, December 12, 2011

A Nice Little Shift With A Possible Free Gift!

So the cat got an email the other day asking if I would do a little review my way. It was free to review and one would also be free for one of you. So I figured what the hay and so brings forth a review at my bay. The cat is stretching his skill once more and no there will be very little if any other encore. The cat won't let this turn into a lackey blog. That's something that would be done by a dog and not a cat. So on with it already at my mat.

It was my memories suite I was asked to give a look and here is what was created for my nook. Many have seen the last shot before. But I could not resist using it for an encore.

Now was that not fun? For the song I thought about using a Christmas one. But you know YouTube would have a fit and ban me for such a hit. So the rhyme time theme it had to be, which can bring as much glee. So was this easy to do? Yep! Very easy to come due.

The digital scrapbooking software can easily be used by the beginner and if you are a real go getting winner, it can be used to create your very own from scratch. But it comes with a whole batch. So you can use their already implemented backdrops and each picture easily crops.

You can make them into a movie such as the one above, print them off to send to those you love, even make calendars and greeting cards with ease. Can save them or print them pretty much however you please. Tons of options to add and remove, allowing you to create your own perfect scrapbooking groove. Add imprints, shapes and embellishments too. And everything is setup in a step by step process for you.

One can even add narration to their work. It was tried by that Pat jerk. But I would not meow for him one bit. At least until after the off button he hit. Overall if you are one with tons of pictures at your bay and are looking to use them in a unique way, my memories suite can really let you do something with them that's neat, allowing you to create to your own beat.

So there is a rhyming review. Bet you never thought such a thing would come into your view. Did I say something about free? Yes! Just as always when you leave a comment below with me, you will be entered into a draw and one name will be picked out with my paw. The winner will get a free copy for their shelf, as today I pretend to be a gifting Santa elf. Make it rhyme and you get two entries for your chime. Although this does depend on if they actually do live up to what they say, as they are rather slow at answering email my way. So take the free one with a grain of salt, as you never know if they will default. That is all for today to the viewing mass and off I go with my reviewing little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

In This To The Hilt! Creating A dVerse Quilt!

The cat has many skills and can even give old ladies thrills. I think with that I've said enough. It's to do with all that quilting stuff. So get your mind from the gutter and blame dVerse for all of this quilting clutter. With a patch here and a patch there. This could turn into something more than one could bear. So as I add and take away this could really cause some dismay.

It's Rhyme Facts,
Face it Time acts.
Super Mario Kong,
Donkey Land is so wrong.

The most wonderful Hell,
Highway to time of the year to sell.
Dawn of the Park,
Jurassic Dead stretch mark.

Love in a Prayer,
Livin' on an Elevator square.
My Fellow Violence,
A History of Americans ambiance.

Waystation Men,
Five One odds against ten.
Feed the Society,
Cancer the hungry anxiety.

Swinging on a Preacher Man,
Son of a Star clan.
Bedknobs and Souls,
Heart and Broomsticks goals.

Hollywood Psyche,
Poetical Spy wildly.
Boxing Day Ride,
Taxi Sale misguide.

Cubically Hard,
Die Contained shard.
Grand Theft Dance,
Neutron Auto trance.

You Got Wings,
Mighty Mail stings.
Opinions are like Babysitting,
Adventure in assholes seems fitting.

Opportunity to Lose,
Nothing Knocks snooze.
It's The End of Your Life,
Time of the World stabbing knife.

So the facts truly are my quilting seems to be far below bar. I seemed to have mixed and matched with each and every one I patched. I created a puzzle of sorts. Not sure that's what was intended at the dVerse courts. But that is what came out after I passed gas and so ends the quilting endeavor of this little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Are You A Placebo Case? Sorry, I May Throw Egg On Your Face!

I meant to do this a while back but just never really got around to going on the attack. Yet Fred came on by the other day and said he got one his way. Then a few days ago, some whack job let his crap flow. Oh those who believe what they read. Especially when it comes from the rich pricks with their greed. Have you guessed yet? If not don't fret. For the name of the game is the flu shot is lame.

Why do they try to ram this crap down your throat? Or in another part of your umm moat. It is because either A. They believe everything they read in their precious book or B. the greed ridden nut jobs want people on the hook. When really you have the exact same chance of preventing the flu by spending a loonie or two. That would be a dollar elsewhere just in case you care. Go buy a bar of soap, maybe even on a rope. POOF! You now are just as better off as if you got a flu shot, as long as you use it and don't let it rot.

You don't even need the antibacterial crap, that is another placebo lap. But we won't go there. Is this more than you can bear? Tough luck. The flu shot is as worthless as getting hit with a hockey puck. Actually the later might wake you up better than a drink from your coffee cup.

Oh you don't believe the cat? Let's see what facts I can do at my mat. Exaggeration is the key! When they talk about the flu shot to you and me. For they found elderly people who are active and healthy get the shot. Well the ones who are not, stay at home and don't get it. Not one bit. So guess what? That means healthy people are getting the thing like a nut and since they are healthy they have less risk of getting the flu anyway. Oh the dismay. So when adjusting for the bias of a such a thing. Oopsy! Down goes that oh so high effectiveness they give a ring.

15% of the "high risk" got it in 1980 or so and now 65% get it at their show. But guess what once more? There has been no decrease in deaths from it, not one bit. But a HUGE rise in profits has been seen. Those companies are just rolling in green.

At best the thing can cover 70% of the strains, as the crap flows through your veins. The other 30% you are strat out of luck. But they already got their claws in you so who really gives a ummm fluck.

Placebo cases have been done time and time again. Which means they take random men and women. Some get the shot and some just get nothing at all. And guess what they always seem to find at their hall? Oopsy once more, as with each and every placebo encore. There is no difference between the ones who got the real shot and the ones who got the fake. That means you can prevent the flu just as well by jumping in a lake.

So if you can't learn to wash your damn hands before eating and such. If it's just way way too much. Go ahead and put Mercury, Ethylene Glycol, Phenol, Formaldehyde and Aluminum in you. For that stuff is just so much more healthy then the flu.

Now that is just my humble opinion on the thing. But feel free to give any hate a ring. The cat can take it with ease. As here one can say whatever they please. I think I also got a bit crass. Oh well sure it does not bother many who visit my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Friday, December 9, 2011

You May Curse My Behind As I Mess With Your Mind!

So as I was going about the old rhyming tracks, once again thinking on giving the eye some whacks. I came across another type of one that just seems so fun. Never knew there was a name for the thing. Don't worry, later the facts I will sing. Right now I will just confuse and abuse. Warning! Your mind you may lose.

One day there was a man,
Who up and kicked the blender.
It seems he tripped on a crack,
When he had a heart fart.

His dog was a wonderful mutt,
Who liked to lick his eye.
Never knew that could be done,
But the dog found it rather neat.

His wife was in for a shock,
Because he was naked showing his toe.
The first she'd seen of that in some time.
The cops knew it wasn't a donut shack.

Then up his nose,
The coroner stuck a vacuum.
He went to suck,
Then thought what the baloney.

The man rose from the table,
Like he was in a children's toy.
He stood rather bold,
You could tell the room was nice.

After the coroner had a fit,
The man went and took a strat.
It seems all the gas,
Had really backed up in his stomach.

Finally he scratched an itch,
Called the corner a donkey,
Found he was still bare,
So he stole some clothes to wash.

He did get back home,
Smiling at the garden weeds.
His wife's lips were flappy,
And his kids were oh so bored.

Everyone started to cry,
As the dog licked his lip.
Then they were left in dread,
As the man really fell over tired.

So did you get all of that? Aren't I just a confusing cat. Making you want to say one thing but read another one. Hopefully I only confused a little with my fun. But if it was a whole lot. I'm sorry ummm not. As you just suffered a Mind Rhyme. Yes! That is a real life chime. Did you just give me some sass? It's so loved by my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Jiggle Jugs And The Drugs!

The crazies were out in full force yesterday. As Pat went to Wal-mart to play. Yeah, I know he said he was done with stores. But thanks to a certain Miss Priss on all fours. He had to go get peroxide stuff. Although it is fun watching her get into quite the huff. Ever try holding a cat's foot in a bowl of peroxide before? It tends to spill all over the floor. That is a whole other story though. Now on with the show.

So as Pat was going in up came a guy smelling like a garbage bin. Okay, it was more like dope and he pretended to mope. He pointed to a nearby car and said it was his. He jiggled like he needed to whiz and then said he was out of gas. Could I spare some change as I pass?

What he did not know was Pat saw him point to a car in another space below, while he was telling his tale to some other guy trying not to show either red eye. I guess he was just too high and Pat did not even bother to lie. He asked to see the gas gauge and the guy quickly ran off no longer wanting to engage.

Pat thought that was that. When lets call "him" Jiggle Jugs scurried along side him like a rat. A very large rat that is. Playing Santa surely had to be his biz. His tummy sure shook like a bowl full of jelly. But at least he wasn't smelly. Why Jiggle Jugs you say? Let me just tell you his tummy wasn't the only thing shaking on display.

So Jiggle Jugs said the guy tried to fool him too and this is really when Pat knew he had a loose screw.

"Kids shouldn't have Santa Claus. That is what happens to so many when they have such a thing."

Were the exact words he flung. I did hear this last year on the net slung. But this was the first nut that actually said it face to face. Which was becoming blue because he couldn't keep up with Pat's quick pace. How the two worked together not even I know. But Pat just wanted him to go.

"What you don't believe me? Just look at all the things he represents. Look at all the parents never getting recognition, all the commercilization and poor Jesus getting the shaft."

Alright, the first two I could have seen Jiggle Jugs saying. But the last one just the way he said it you could tell he was only playing. Playing as in one of those people who try and pretend they are smart feeling better about themselves by ranting in the parking lot of Wal-mart. I bet he saw it on a poster and thought it was good. Or one of those end of the world road signs made of cardboard, not wood.

Jiggle Jugs would not leave Pat be. I guess parking so far away to get a little extra exercise back fired today at our sea. The two had no correlation at all. Yet he kept up with his Santa Claus call. Following right into the store and was really starting to bore.

"Think about it. They resent the parents because years later they find out they were had."

"Riiiight I see so many kids doing that now. You're just jealous." Pat muttered under his breath, feeling this guy was on meth. Or some other drug, as Jiggle Jugs would not stop staring with his ugly mug.

"Jealous of what?"

Pat should have bit his tongue. But this guy needed his bell rung. Even though he could squash Pat completely flat. You'd need an air compresser to blow him back up after that or I would be an orphan cat. But this guy was surely getting on his nerves. So he did not bother with any polite swerves.

"That he gets liked for his jolly belly and you don't."

Pat walked faster and got away. Jiggle Jugs stood rather stunned and looked to be in a bit of dismay. But seconds later Pat heard him speak talking to some nearby lady about how Santa wasn't unique. That was all Pat got of that and quickly turned the corner avoiding any more of his chat. Isn't Pat just so mean? Not making Jiggle Jugs feel lean. First nut he actually ever had do that and many a nut has been dealt with by Pat. I guess drugs just bring out the Jiggle Jugs.

So what do you say? Do you agree with Jiggle Jugs facts today? Does poor Santa Claus make kids resent parents in later years? Pfffft riiiiiight! I think he had one too many beers. And Pat did not even get crass. But Jiggle Jugs does sound scary to my little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Book Number Three! How I Do It Is A Mystery!

The cat and Pat have worked out a system now. So neither of us have a cow. The cat does his rhyming thing while Pat let's his movies fling. Then Pat does his while the cat is attending to his ummm biz. Anyway, number three is now ready to go. Over at Pat's book show. This time I'll plug in complete rhyme with my promo chime.

In "A Not So Barren World" the cat time machine is back along with Emily and Jack. Zeus and Drazin show their face with other gods flying all over the place. But it's not long before they go down the well and get lost in Hell.

Lucifer greets them all nice and neat. Even gives them shoes for their feet. But all is not grand for long and once again everything goes wrong. A cyclops and the Gorgon sisters give a bow. The hecatoncheires even has a cow. As they try to get out of Hell which seems to be a hard sell.

The exit they need to find, with Leftovers hot on their behind. "He" also comes into play even a Genie has his say. The past comes back and the villains attack. Strat! Still is a favorite shout, as the group soon find out. They are in "A Not So Barren World."

Alright, the last part did not rhyme. But it fit better without it for my book chime. Also since it is Christmas time and all, the cat will be nice at his hall.

As for December only $2.97 all books will be. When you go over to Pat's place to see. That is all out of me. Except for one big thing, Betsy! Huge thanks for a TON of help. I'm being way too nice, yelp. Not used to having no sass, I better get out of here before I become a lovable little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Tarsier Man Gets His Day For Some dVerse Play!

So Pat was a computer hog going at book number four and keeping the cat from the blog. Yet the cat still have to give dVerse a ring about that superhero thing. Could do this in one of fifty different ways but I will save those for other days. I guess that Tarsier Man nut wants to shine so I let him on instead of listening to him whine.

But back story is what you all want right? So I won't fail this time in that plight. I will give you the facts of how Tarsier Man came to be. Warning! He is one ugly sight to see. Just look! With that face one could write a book.

How Tarsier Man Came to Be,
Told by, well umm me.

There was no spider bite,
Or ooze on that dark night.
No magic ring,
Or gamma radiation thing.

The Tarsier simply turned its head.
A whole 360 degrees. Yeah, that's what I said.
He kept turning and turning it around,
Finding himself rising off the ground.

Before long he was six feet tall,
Delighted and yelling out his Tarsier call.
He knew other Tarsiers jealousy would rise,
So he went out and got a disguise.

He tried the red and blue,
But they just would not do.
The yellow and blue were nice,
But feared the adamantium slice.

The ripped shorts were too purple and bright.
He feared the plastic nipples of the dark knight.
And he knew glasses,
Should only fool dumb asses.

So he dawned a full face ninja mask,
Leaving his eyes free for the task.
He made some ear holes too,
Making it all the better to hear you.

Next he scrapped some bark from a tree,
And glued together a suit for free.
With his mask and bark,
He made his way through the dark.

A dastardly Hippo was eating a plant,
And did not notice the scurrying ant.
So he sprang into action,
Sensing an attraction.

He grabbed the ant gaining much praise.
Then he ate the ant thinking how saving pays.
He continued his force for good.
Reaching higher heights than any normal Tarsier could.

Finally moving up from insect to human saving.
He just loved their appreciative waving.
Then he came across two cats,
Yes! They were those of Pat's.

They were doing battle with Drazin the mook.
So he crept in like a ghostly spook.
But Drazin would have none of him,
And choked him until his lights went dim.

WHAMMO! His eyes popped from his head.
Hitting Drazin in the face causing him dread.
He now had a new superpower.
While Drazin felt disgusted and had to shower.

So with his 360 degree head twist,
Eyes popping from his skull for the assist,
And big ears that hear all.
Tarsier Man awaits your call.

He travels the sands,
Searching the lands.
For all in need.
Trying to do a good deed.

So crooks beware!
He will find your secret lair.
And with his popping eyes,
Find the truth through the lies.

The Tarsier Man will save the day.
He's only a phone call away.
P.S. Long distance charges apply.
Even if he can't make it and you die.

Now was that not fun? Just looking at Tarsier Man will make the bad guys run. Those eyes are just scary. Maybe he ate too much dairy? Either way with him I'll take a pass. I think I could do much better saving my own little rhyming ass.

Later all, have a nice fall.