Saturday, March 31, 2012

Ode To 24 Here At My Shore!

The following takes place between 11 AM and 12 PM or 11PM and 12 AM.
(The cat can't tell those M's, don't condemn.)
On the day of the who really gives a strat. When all goes wrong for the cat.


An army of creatures had gathered outside bush number three. I guess they were getting ready to attack me. They were fed up with me showing fried squirrel, giving rat burgers a whirl, showing the dead Easter Bunny and the mutts did not think the constant butt sniffing cracks were funny.

So they sat and yapped about avoiding my traps thinking they were quite clever gals and chaps. But they forgot one thing, the stench with them that they bring. I could smell them a mile away and watched as these nuts were in complete disarray.

I began to hum the Jeopardy tune, thinking I would be here until June waiting for them to attack, for brain cells they seemed to lack. And they wonder why the cat makes fun. At least there was no ruler totting nun. That might give me a scare, as she could slap my knuckles bare.


Nothing more happened at all. I did think I heard a moose call.


The same stuff occurred as before. By now I was yawning at my shore.


I went and used the loo. I got something to eat too.


I gave myself a good cleaning bottom to top. Yeah, I did it backwards. So call a cop.


They looked like they were going to move. But I guess the mutts seemed to disapprove. They trotted off marking each tree. Do they every run out of pee? Yes, they sniffed each others behind too. This just proves what I always say is true.


They asked the bunny for his two cents and they noticed how he remained quite dense. They nudged him a bit and he did not budge. You think maybe he died eating all that fudge? Or was it someone with a car? Damn, for a dead guy he can sure travel far.


The squirrels got antsy being away from their nuts, desperately wanting to fill their guts. So they went and chewed on a power line. Fried squirrel sure can shriek and whine.


The mice finally made up their mind. I think three of them were actually blind. They ran across the field and shouted how they would never yield. They approached me rather fast, their little band of rebels were quite vast. I rolled around on the grass as they continued to trespass and when they were in reach, they also started to screech.

For with one swipe I learned they were rather ripe. I gobbled down many of the mice and even chewed some twice. The blind ones tasted kind of funny, maybe it was that added sprinkle of bee honey. What? I need to add some spices to my meal. It makes them taste all that more real.


The final facts were that I began picking some leftover parts from my fur. I know not as exciting as Jack Baur but at least the cat has the power, to go to the loo. I think he wears a diaper. Come on, it has to be true. I then rubbed my belly and passed some gas and that was the oh so exciting 24esq tale from my little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.

Friday, March 30, 2012

Island Of The Gawker Part Six. Time To Fix These Cult Hicks!

Did they actually think a jail with a dirt floor could hold a cat at their shore? Miss Priss and I simply dug beneath the bars and of course instead of freeing ourselves, we got blasted off to Mars. That is to say thanks to two cats digging their way out, Drazin and Pat began to shout, as the floor caved in and we fell into some lit up bin. There were torches all around and thankfully our fall was cushioned by the falling ground. But still that stone floor hurt. I would like to smack whoever said it is safe to dig in the dirt.

"Now look what you fleabags did. You've trapped Drazin in some pit. If there is no way out Drazin will eat you first."

"Quiet demon, though shall not succumb to such acts."

Drazin was threatening to have us for brunch and Pat was once again out to lunch. Then out came three mutts smaller than me followed my some smug lady. She looked like a Mary but I guess she went by Contrary. Her mutts yapped thinking they were scary and brave but scattered when Drazin grunted and stomped his foot beginning to rant and rave.

"First fleabags and now little hairless mutts. Drazin has to get out of here. Drazin is going to..."

"Would you shut up already. Maybe she knows a way off this island."

"Keep thy guard up. She could be a demon."

Contrary smiled at the comment of Miss Priss and I could not help but figure she new something we did not about all of this. She stated we may find the answers we seek or end up a glowy eyed freak. But we certainly were on no three hour tour that was for sure.

"That was helpful. Is it just Drazin or do people seem to be getting crazier by the second?"

"He has a point."

"A TV reference. Well at least we know how to turn Pat back."

Contrary was not very helpful at all, as she and her dogs turned into a fiery ball. They zoomed down a path lighting it up for us and we figured what's one more for the short bus. So we followed Contrary's trail and came to a room producing underground hail. It stopped as we entered and formed into the shape of an L. Really? What the hell?

The L shaped hail also started to speak and began yapping about Gawker peak. It seems L was almost gawked by The Gawker's stare but barely escaped his glare. Now she is stuck in limbo of some sort unable to stray from this underground court.

"L? What kind of name is that? Let's all do it. Drazin is now D. D finds it fun to do. D thinks it's crap though, so D is going back to Drazin."

Drazin fell on his behind as L's hail whatever it was thought he was unkind and rammed into the godly one. Who no longer made fun. Thankfully he saved Pat and Miss Priss from saying something like that and I suppose even the cat. Once more he came through. His godly powers must be true. Drazin grunted as he got to his feet and L sounded like she was like Blabber's communication and began to repeat.

"No earth is an island. The magic you seek is there, believe and the island can be earth."

"Does that make sense to anyone?"

"Nothing makes sense to Drazin in this damn place. Drazin is going to ring Merlin's neck."

"Great! Look what your loud mouth did now. As if bald McClane in Die Hard 4 wasn't bad enough. Now we have to listen to you and her with no mute button."

The hail disappeared from sight with her voice still repeating the same old sound bite. But it was overwhelmed by the cries of some glowy eyed freaks coming our way ready to cause us dismay. I guess they honed in on us from L's warning or whatever, thinking they were oh so clever.

"You've come up against D to the 4 and I'll leave you a smudge on the floor."
"Surrender to my power, as I leave you in a Beer Shower."
"Jaywalk Moon will pick your eyes out with a spoon."

"One wants to get us drunk, another wants to use cutlery on us and another wants us to go on the floor? I guess Die Hard 4 is sounding better by the second."

"Drazin has had enough of these clowns."

Drazin marched right up to one and grabbed them by their shroud. It then poofed away into a black cloud. It appeared behind him and gave him a whack, shoving him once more waste deep into the stone floor preventing any attack.

"Same trick twice. Drazin you really need to wise up. But we can do the same."

Miss Priss yanked me toward her and latched onto my fur. I guess she was hoping to increase our spirit and hoped these guys would fear it. Pat tried throwing rocks at the shrouded flocks. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to know how that went, as he did not even make a dent. The glowy eyed freaks just laughed us off, as the two of us did not even make them scoff. But suddenly they were struck with fear and a rock Pat threw dinged one right in the ear.

Drazin dung himself out of the hole and accomplished his goal. He rang the neck of one and laughed a ton, slamming it to the ground and acting all profound.

"D to the 4 has to warn The Gawker that they found the cure."
"Don't leave Jaywalk Moon with this loon."
"At least give Beer Shower a beer before you cower."

The D to the 4 guy ran away but we sure made the other two pay. They stated how we would never win and how we were committing such a sin. The Gawker would know and he would have us all wrapped in a great big bow. Drazin scoffed and threw him in the hole they put him in. Pat grabbed the other and chucked him down with his freaky kin. Miss Priss and I kicked away and buried them right where they lay. Two more glowy eyed freaks were down only another thousand or so to go in crazy town.

We heard some chirp and turned to find that tarsier standing on a raccoon who gave a burp. Now we knew how we had the power to stop them all for their combined souls helped us as they waited in the hall. He made his head go indicating for us to follow and we did along with a whole group of animals including a swallow. We walked up a hill into the light and found ourselves just outside the cult's invisible wall thing's site.

The tarsier pointed and we saw the cavemen lackeys dragging Petsy and Blabber into their antique town. Just giving us another foe we had to take down. Even Drazin was game for a little bit of cult mame, after all they had saved us before so it was time we evened the score. Miss Priss signaled for tarsier and Petsy's animals to stay until they heard us call for a stampede to cause the cult dismay. Then we stepped through ready to give this cult what they had coming due.


I guess we did not fix those cult hicks yet but next time I would say that is a pretty safe bet. For part seven I don't intend on rhyming them into heaven. But they will get a thrill and maybe need to pop a pill when I give them their rhyming fill. Damn, cavemen mass will suffer the wrath of my little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Things Have Gotten Wack At My Shack!

The cat has gotten something on his tongue and now my words are starting to sound like I am popping a lung. But it just may be fun. So let's see what comes from this tongue wagging thing under my rhyming sun.

Bang! Here comes the slang.
It's about to be sang.
Is there a pig in your pocket?
Or is that a fin and a locket?

There are no aarqeunaamaaeis of the cat.
Maybe an aberzombie doesn't like that.
Abra-kebabra we were so close,
Before something absoludacris made us lose our house.

Sorry, I have nada lotta for you today.
Maybe if spoke in nanologicaltancature at my bay.
Hate working in a table stable,
I fear a tajmahtiolet is nothing but a fable.

I may cause xanthopulous as I hiss.
You think I'm taking the piss?
Least it isn't the same old xingxong,
Of some idiopath and their song.

That ignobubble has to pop,
Get to macca and I might call a cop.
That magafalator connected well,
It's so kablamo it's swell.

Don't start kahoogaing here,
Or become a palooka and fall on your rear.
Passportism isn't very rare,
So don't get all vaclempt looking at your lair.

Have you ever been viagravated?
Were they so rainbowarise you were elated?
Unless they weren't rawt at all,
And bounced down the ugly tree like a ball.

Don't you think you're being a little ultrahyperpsuedoantidisestablishmentariasitic today?
You really are so safisterated at your bay.
Those Sanies are out and about,
They make me want to throw my junt and shout.

All jazzed up and nowhere to go?
Jaysus jumppin' on a pogo stic, that was a nutty show.
Don't start facetiating me,
Go fake and bake with glee.

Fandabbydozie, is all I can say,
To using deeznuts over and over causing dismay.
Go destinkify for you smell,
I know my obstropulous nature causes you hell.

But I'm still off the chain,
Even if office ass causes you pain.
May also be a lint-picker,
Least I'm not a qwerty keyboard licker.

So time to go lizarding at midnight,
It's so zemanakal whether dark or light.
But avoid that heffler of yours,
And now get to steppin' back to your shores.

Fun and confusing all at once you say? Yeah, that is typical of my bay. But it was fun to let the slang hang out and give it a shout. Some are just plain weird though and that makes them all the better for my rhyming show. So there are some slang facts class and peace out from my little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Island of The Gawker Part Five. How Will We Ever Survive?

The ground kept drawing closer and I closed my eyes having my fill, suspecting we would be nothing but the equivalent of roadkill. Then something shocked us just enough to send a tingle up our spine and make Drazin huff. The ground was no more than ten feet away and we felt something at play. We became nose to nose with the ground and then sprung back up into the air avoiding becoming a smudge under a dirt mound.

"Now what? Invisible fairies?

"Drazin hopes not or Drazin will have to squash them too."

"Just like you squashed The Gawker huh oh godly one."

Pat was as normal as could be as we all bounced a bit before settling between a rock and a tree. It was like we were sitting in thin air and then out came an old guy who raised my neck hair. He was followed by three more white robed guys and they all thought they were so wise. A pack of cavemen looking people followed behind and they were really out of their mind.

"Drazin isn't sure if they are fairies but they appeared out of nowhere, so Drazin knows this can't be good."

"What was your first clue? Them going all Memoirs of an Invisible Man?"

"Oh godly one who came down from the sun. We knew the day would come when you would grace us with your presence here, so we waited and gathered near."

"Did those nuts just rhyme too? We are in the damn Twilight Zone of rhyme."

"Drazin is glad somebody finally knows of Drazin's godly stature."

It seems we were in a net that these guys set up to catch this pet. For they cut us down and if we thought Blabber was from crazy town, these guys were from mars and then they had to go and hum a few bars. The look on Drazin's face I will never forget, as this surely made him fret. Miss Priss and Pat just rolled their eyes, as these people surrounded me like flies.

Penwassa here to do your bidding,
And no we aren't kidding.
You will show us the path,
To avoid his wrath.
Taking us all to that golden gate,
For such is your fate.

My zen has seen it come to pass,
Dear godly little rhyming ass.
You will save us all,
And take us to His holy hall.

I was once in a daze,
And saw through the haze.
It made everyday amazing,
Finding the sweet lust from his gazing.

I keep the evil away,
As it tries its best to get us each day.
Max Evil can exist inside me,
As I save the others with glee.

You will rise us above,
Showing us the path to His love.
We are devote to you,
And know it to be true.

"Great! Not only have we got the godly one to deal with, some glowy eyed freaks, George of the Jungle and his apes and a guy with a bad haircut and a huge eyeball coming out of his head. But now we got a cult. This island just keeps betting better and better."

"Drazin likes you better with the voices in your head. You whine too much. But Drazin is sure they are just confused. For Drazin is the god not the fleabag."

They grabbed me and the other three, whisking us through a wall and on the other side was a great hall. I surmised that had an invisible force field of some sort. And why not? Everything else was crazy at this island court. In we went and found ourselves in some old Little House on the Prairie type town. Pat was just waiting for them to say "Goodnight John Boy" so he could whack them down. We all knew we had to flee for once they learned of me, finding I'm only a cat, these cult guys surely would not like that. I have seen enough movies to know that it never ends well for the god and usually some sacrifice decides to show.

And just as that thought crossed my mind. There was Besercules tied to a shrine of some kind. He was gagged so we did not have to listen to him yap, which was nice of that Penwassa chap. Although I think these guys take throne a little too literally around here for when we drew near to his pedestal of shine, he sat down on a sparkling toilet actually all divine. Yep, his throne was the loo, what it was really for they never knew. The other three had smaller ones of their own and sat down in front of him taking a more sensible tone.

They explained how when the four sacrifices were in place through my rhyming pace, I would ascend them into the heavens above and let them feel His love. Drazin, Pat and Miss Priss immediately assumed they were the other three and got ready to flee. But then we heard language I care not to repeat and out came Irish Air refusing defeat. She kicked and screamed at the cavemen like weirdos tying her to the shrine and kept mumbling as they gagged her with a vine.

"Drazin thinks the Blabber runt and Petsy better watch their back."

"He's right for a change. Unless there are more bibbity bobbity boo people on this island, their next."

"You humans and your stupid theories, cults. Geesh."

Miss Priss trotted off behind a hut trying to make a plan to get us out of this rut. I could not move without being swarmed by these cavemen loony tunes. As they kept ranting about full moons and how it would be soon time for me to let loose my powers of rhyme. They even swooned over Drazin and Pat, who of course tried to avoid then getting their germs over him, especially after seeing them eat rat. Drazin lapped it up a bit but even that nitwit knew this was bad and we had to make a break for it from this Cult pad.

Pat dodged their germy mitts and grabbed me by the tail, telling Miss Priss it was time to hit the trail. Drazin ranted as they gave chase and punched a couple in the face. We got to the wall where we came in and tried to dash through but sadly it was not a win. As we bounced off the wall and landed in the dirt of the hall. We looked up to find the cult standing over us and Drazin let out a cuss, as they dragged us back to their town and locked us down. Jailed we were and all I could do was lick my fur.

So out of The Gawker's gaze and into some cult craze. This island was such a pain. What next? Some black smoke monster swooping over us like rain? Now we have to get out of jail and figure out how to set sail, while avoiding these caveman loony tunes. If you'll excuse me, I think I ate some bad prunes. Meaning no more of my sass until part six of this tale starring my little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

This dVerse Has Been Found To Go Round and Round!

I have the dreaded song stuck in my head thanks to passing a kid singing it out loud, oh the dread. You know the damn bus and that round and round fuss. I'd like to kill the thing so I could get rid of its not so dVerse ring. What the hell else are wheels supposed to do? Go up and down and bi-lateral too? I guess the cat will just go with it for this dVerse fit. Or take out my anger with some Beer Guys maybe winning a headless prize.

Like I'm being chased by a hound,
As I hum this round and round.
But I will end my pain,
As I find another round and round lane.

Some weasel and monkey,
Go around something funky.
Money makes the world go round,
At least by those thinking they are profound.

Could hop a horse,
And go round and round a course.
Being all nice and merry,
Maybe even pluck a berry.

They are round too,
And will roll until you chew.
Or the dreaded ferris wheel,
Could fall out for real.

Maybe get picked up by a UFO,
That would sure be a bad way to go.
Be like a washer and dryer in one,
Ever try stuffing a human into one and making it run?

Pat, says it is fun,
But he didn't quite get it done.
Instead had to spin a top,
Or a quarter until it went plop.

Would say loonie,
But then I'd neglect the toonie.
There is also the clock,
That is such a shock.

At least with a hickory dickory mouse,
That needs to leave my house.
For it will make my belly round,
As I chow it down making a crunching sound.

Of course all wheels do to,
I guess a dumptruck is too big to view.
Or it could hold too much ground.
So stuck with the bus being found.

Need to get away from that,
To free the mind of the cat.
As around that goes,
Curling up my toes.

A moat goes around,
And trout my be found.
Plus keep the bad guys out,
Making them pout.

Some germs fly about too,
They are just eww.
A stench lingers,
Can also twirl your fingers.

And do a little ditty,
Acting crazy and not witty.
Of course there are political debates,
And the same yearly dates.

Plus months and all that crap,
Also the seasons take a lap.
Smashing a printer once more,
When winter brings an encore.

But let's not go there,
As that is over at my lair.
Pringle cans do too,
Even when filled with cat poo.

No longer is the song found,
As I blocked out the sound.
So I will get profound,
And just say to remember what goes around comes around.

Aren't you glad you hanged around? Like a hound. Or maybe a silly goose wanting to be a moose. Or that duck who swears all the time with his what the puck. Either way what's found was lost and at a nice cost. For the song is gone and I can resume rhyming at my lawn. Plus passing some gas and that too goes around inside my little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Want A Treat? Maybe Not After Seeing These Feet!

So you must all blame Betsy for this little bit of bliss, as today it is feet galore at my shore. Or it was tried at least on each furry beast. But sadly they ran away or put on another display. So we shall see what comes of the feet at bush number three.

Neat Feet

What will occur,
Certainly not a purr,
When feet of a cat,
Get primped at our mat?

Will they look pretty,
To go out on the city?
Or will they look yuck,
Making them go what the duck.

I think you have your answer from the cat.
For he was so embarrassed at our mat.
That he went and got the tp,
Then wouldn't even look at me.

He had to cover himself from head to toe,
So no one could see each toe glow.
I guess the hot pink did not do,
Maybe I should have went with blue.

Miss Priss did not like her job at all,
She went and had a hairball.
At least she did it in the grass,
It was quite the mass.

Then she wiped her paws on the bed,
Until they were no longer pretty red.
I guess maybe for her too,
I should have tried blue.

And then there was Pat,
Who was pinned down by the cat.
But it seems his feet were already done,
As he gave numbers a run.

Pat needs to count at work,
And I guess this is a perk.
Must be stinky though,
When he takes off the shoes and socks letting his feet show.

Would that be a no no to do at work?
Sure gives the cat a smirk.
And so alas there is only one,
That we had left to give run.

That is right.
The cat gives you a fright.
With the return of zombie feet.
Now do you want that treat?

I'm sure it would be yum,
And nasty as you stare and the some.
No? You don't want a treat?
How about some pretty zombie feet?

And so you have now been treated to the feet,
Thanks to Betsy's feet meet and greet.
But there is one fast cure all,
That I will give you free of charge at my hall.

Go and get a pair of these,
And your feet won't freeze.
Also they will always look grand,
As you walk about the land.

Did you like all the feet?
Weren't they neat?
Those zombie feet really should impress each lass,
Unlike the feet of Pat, Miss Priss or my little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

As We Stride Side By Side!

Let's see what the cat can do today by restraining himself to one picture at his bay. I know that is a feat in and of itself when the cat sees such things on the dVerse shelf. But let's prove the theory of one picture can say a thousand words before the cat goes to chase down those birds.

A path's design created through each step.
The stationed trees serving as prep.
Marking the blind with a nudge,
There to show and not to judge.

Discernible meaning lost to all,
Caught in their own thought squall.
Yet as the trees stand as a pair,
Two shadows distinguish their flare.

Seemingly alone they walk,
Worlds apart and taking stock.
The breeze of a slight detection,
The water's same yet different reflection.

Wandering minds weigh the depth below,
Confined to wondering over the glow.
Forgetting what goes on above,
Finally ready to leap and love?

To pass through trunks and take the leap,
Forever wading in the deep.
Or turn back and never know,
Rippling away the reflection below.

The dawning of the poles light,
Does not beckon into the night.
It's presence not known,
Leaving you to set the tone.

The mist rises and surrounds,
Daring two to test their bounds.
Before it encroaches upon each,
Both no longer in the others reach.

Leaves changing with the coming season,
Giving forth another reason.
For they can wither with the snow,
But will return to grow.

Such luxury escapes the pairing,
Do or die or continue staring.
Left to nothing but their own daring,
Whether to wither or grow their caring.

Unprepared for life's curve,
Biting on their final nerve,
Wrestling loose any strife,
The barren path now void of life.

The mist fully assuming control,
For all but a certain pole.
A light shines as if sent from above,
Took the chance to leap and love?

Well that was not exactly one thousand words from the cat but he will surely make up for that the next time The Gawker comes to his mat. For now that is what came out and I leave it a bit to your own mind so don't shout. Now the cat is through being all lovey dovey and nice he has to go work on zombie feet to add some spice. So for this month that was my profound pass and now we'll go back to the regularly scheduled programming of my little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Laptops Can Walk. What a Shock!

Did you know laptops can just go poof? Even when they are under your roof. Well thee facts are they can indeed, so take heed.

Pat came home and did the usual brushing thing as the cat let the meows fling and Miss Priss got her fill, at least that's what I hear from the rumor mill. Then he looked and poof the laptop was gone. It seemed to be nowhere to be seen at our lawn.

The cords were still there but the spot on the desk where the laptop sat was bare. Does a laptop really sit? Or just lurk a bit? Hmmm maybe that is for another day like that thing the cat did about what the keys say. Yeah, yeah I'm getting back on point, don't get your nose all out of joint.

First thing Pat did was look around to make sure everything else was found and in it's usual place, with an OCD fit that wasn't hard to trace. There it was all nice and neat. The only thing that was moved was his seat, as it can roll and once in a while Miss Priss and I take it for a stroll.

So gone it was and Pat knew it wasn't a dirty robber just because, hmmm let's say he learned a trick from Jericho and employs it at our show. Plus the thing may be worth ten cents and there are no vents. He looked around and then noticed my face looking a little less profound, like I was hiding something on him. I wish Pat was more dim.

Then like a silly cat I slunk off like a dirty rat. I stopped and stared under the couch for a second or two and that's when the laptop came into view. Pat pushed the couch back and poof there is was back at our rack. It seems some silly cat knocked it on the floor and then proceeded to push it some more. He hid it under the couch to avoid trouble, thinking he may have popped its circuit bubble.

I scurried off as Pat just looked at me. Why didn't he blame Cassie? Why think it was poor little old me? Just because my guilty look he was able to see. Oh I need to get a better poker face or run away at a faster pace. Okay, shut up Pat and all of you. I knocked the laptop on the ground and hid it from view. There you happy now? Why are you scolding me? It still works some how.

No worse for wear and not even a crack or tear. I guess I did not need to hide it after all. Next time I'll try and not make it fall when I am doing whatever it is I do when Pat is not home to view. Or maybe it was my Birthday gift today to Pat. I re-used and could not wrap for I am a cat. Then I made him seek it out and it still worked so he did not pout. Anyway, buckle your laptops down when the cat comes to trespass because you just never know when humpty laptop might take a great fall thanks to my little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Island of The Gawker Part Four Has Washed Ashore!

NEWS FLASH!!! All can now make a dash and get The Swashbuckle Chuckle in print form, at CreateSpace or Amazon. So if you don't have the tech, what the heck. Now back to the norm!

I was the first to wake and had to do a double take, as that bug eyed tarsier was curled up next to me. But I decided to let him be. Those glowy eyed freaks were enough to make him look cute. Heck, I was even glad to have that Drazin brute. At least he gave one more target to let me get away and of course he attracts them with the third person crap that he always has to say. Pat was propped up against the wall with Miss Priss curled up on his lap in a ball while Blabber was staring me down. I think being alone this long she did kinda board a bus to crazy town. But I still was not sure as she gave me a smile and seemed to have changed the crazy dial.

Drazin finally stopped his godly snoring and got up ready to continue exploring. He wanted to get out of here as bad as us. So there was no slipper fuss. The tarsier awoke from the commotion and in one quick motion leaped on Blabber's shoulder. I guess beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. And with his eyes you may have to put him in a disguise.

"Drazin thinks it is time we give this Gawker his walking papers. Drazin is going to push him and his big eyeball of the cliff."

"Keep yapping, godly one. As long as you do that he'll jump just to end your name ringing in his ear."

"Drazin will..."

"Fleabag this, fleabag that, Drazin, Drazin, Drazin. You need to get some new material."

"Drazin knows you are the expert on that with all the voices in your head."

The three continued to banter for a while making their yaps run a mile. Drazin finally gave up as Pat and Miss Priss did not seem to miss. They really let him have it and I loved every bit. Blabber saw we were trying to leave her base and moved to the bottom of the slide tunnel standing in place. A ladder dropped down from the ceiling and Drazin took off ready to hear The Gawker squealing as he threw him from the peak, him and each and every glowy eyed freak.

Miss Priss and I each picked a shoulder of Pat and jumped on. He began to climb us out into the day's dawn, as we noticed Blabber was not coming with us. We heard Drazin cuss as we went back down telling us to forget the Blabbermouth runt from crazy town. She spoke as plain as could be, no longer acting crazy. I guess she just did not like Drazin being around and I can relate, as even I preferred a hound. I guess one battle with The Gawker was enough and with no shampoo she had it rather rough. She was not going to tempt fate once again, as she had her palm read at her old den and it was not good. Blabber wished us luck and said she would help in any other way she could. So off we went climbing out of her lair's vent. Of course as we did that damn dust still haunted me and I went one about some stupid flea.

A flea on a knee,
A knee with a flea.
Tried to eat for free,
Instead sent her across the sea.

Glad it wasn't me,
Or a magic tree.
But it beats a bee,
And there will be glee.

As we squash the flea,
Break The Gawkers knee.
Get back to our sea,
Without a flea on any knee.

As soon as we crawled out Drazin gave his usual shout and Blabber closed the door, probably figuring he would draw unwanted attention with his roar. We could see the side of the mountain in view and made our way there with no sign of The Gawker's freaky crew. Drazin tried to climb the wall first and fell giving his usual burst. Not even our claws would stick to the side. That's when we saw Pat smile wide.

"Great! The voices are back in that nuts head. Just what Drazin needs."

"Just what you need indeed my dear fellow."

Pat ranted on about some science junk once more in some voice in his head funk. He grabbed some coconuts and some other stuff and Drazin continued to huff and puff. He set a fuse on his bomb looking thing and chucked it into some hole letting his arms fling. He picked up Miss Priss and I while motioning for that Drazin guy. We all thought he was nuts like a mutt that sniffed one too many butts, but as we stood over this hole we easily reached our goal.

A geyser of water blasted up into the air, once again wetting my hair. But it reached us up to Gawker Peak and we jumped off ready to end that Gawker freak. There he was waiting with his army behind him, there were so many things were looking grim. Just as Blabber had shown me with the dust in her lair The Gawker parted his mohawk hair. Out popped a huge eyeball glaring at us and I could see why it would cause any ones OCD a fuss. Think a tarsiers eyes times eight and that would be your fate.

"The choice is yours. Join my crew and help me rule. I gawk all and know what is to come. Join me and you too will have the power of the others."

"Drazin would rather make you eat that eyeball."

"For once, I'm with the godly one."

"Get ready to draw pilgrim."

"The wild west, really Pat?"

"Drazin told you he was useless. What's he think that finger is going to do?"

Pat pointed his finger at The Gawker like a gun as everyone continued to make fun. But a blast of light flew from it and caused The Gawker a fit. It hit one of the glowy eyed freaks in its head and poof! The glowy eyed freak was dead.

"Noooo! This is just awful. You can't defeat the Waffle."

"Drazin takes that back. Point away."

"Get them! If they don't want to join. Let's teach them what it feels like to fly."

The Gawker retracted his huge eye, as we could tell he really wanted us to die. Pat tried once more to shoot the light but nothing came out as we got ready to fight.

"So you just had to piss them off more huh Pat?"

"Drazin could have done that."

"Seems my gun is jammed, where is the deputy when you need him."

We were easily surrounded by each freak as they stood cheek to cheek. There was no room for even us cats to break through and then the three prima dona freaks moved out in front of the crew. They were all nice and smug and yes I will admit, I hid behind that Drazin lug.

"Putting your fists up to fight Penguin Man. You really need a brain scan."

"In my collection it does state that a Dictionary Collector will decide your fate."

"When Grammer Nazi it through you'll feel like a car just ran over you."

"Fleabag, have you been giving them rhyming lessons or something?"

"That's an unfortunate side effect of the transfer process. My Gawking power causes some sort of poetic response from them. Kind of catchy though isn't it? Goodbye!"

The Gawker waved to his crew and away they flew. They were all above our head shrouding us in darkness like we were dead. We were too busy watching them to notice the other three until they cackled with glee. They each raised their arm and suddenly I wished I stayed on Petsy's farm. For they did some magic crap like on the beach and somehow attached themselves to us like a leech. They controlled our every limb and Drazin could not even say something dim. The Gawker came right up to me and bent down on one knee.

"You could have been one of the best. But sadly you will not be around when I gawk the world into submission. If only you knew what you almost achieved."

The Gawker walked back to his oddly shaped throne and I expected our bodies would be crushed, each and every bone. For they simply chucked us off the side of the peak avenging their fallen glowy eyed freak. We regained use of our limbs but it was too late for it seemed a smudge on the ground was our fate.


And so our lives seemed at an end. This seems to be an every growing trend. Maybe I should find a new bush with a tush or give Pat another push and we'll hide in Blabber's lair or go back to the farm with Petsy and all that animal hair. I just hope we don't die that would make me cry. I hope it's magic grass and will let me land all cushy on my little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Here At My Bay What I Did Do On Wednesday!

As you could plainly see yesterday the cat was away from his tree and Pat was a runner. Trust me when I say my day was much funner. I know Grammar Nazi might have a problem with that word use but I can withstand the abuse. And what a wonderful job Blabber did. She never even flipped her lid. It's nice to have such a great minion at my sea, just fills the cat with glee.

So the cat had such an fun filled day that I had to go and steal the idea from Betsy's bay. I have to show one and all what I did yesterday at my hall. Yeah, the collage thing I suck at. But that won't stop the cat. For you will get all the facts on today's awesome acts.

First I hopped a death trap plane and escaped from my lane. I took a trip to Vegas to try my luck and make a quick buck. Or lose like many people do for they always have tricks to get you. But what do you know the cat got lucky when I visited down below.

This was just one of the piles of cash I used to throw a big bash. I swam in the stuff like Scrooge McDuck. Yeah, I was one lucky little rhyming umm truck. I could do anything I wanted to do and I know you are just so jealous of my luck that came due. But you haven't seen nothing yet for I no longer need to bet.

Yeah, I ran with the bulls too. The poor humans were getting mowed down as they came into their view. But the cat ran and ran and ran some more. They never caught me because I can really soar.

After that I was one hungry cat. So I tracked down Tarsier Man and ate that rat. That is right! No more Tarsier Man here day or night. I ate the stupid big eyed creep with his eyes so deep. They were the best part too. I know some of you are thinking ewww.

But when she serves you it and chops him up bit by bit, you would surely eat it too. She even acted like a cat in front of my view. That is a good human indeed. I sure don't mind showing that one on my feed.

But then this guy ruined the show. Who is he? Does anyone know? I guess he is supposedly dead. But he still wanted to cause me dread. Maybe he was a zombie or something. I couldn't tell with the way his hands were starting to fling. It seems that human was his wife and he was going to take my life.

So I bought a trip to the moon to avoid that zombie loon. It was such a fun trip. I could easily do a flip. Floating in mid-air is grand. Although not so much when you try and use the litter box full of sand. We finally landed and then this guy came into view, no lie.

He shook my paw and pointed out each little flaw. He said he could re-build me anew and I knew a probe was going to come due. So I scratched his big old brain and hopped back aboard my space train. I made it out just in time for he brought out a scary mime.

I floated back to the land below and really enjoyed the show. You humans were so tiny and I couldn't hear you being whiny. This made it grand being in the air until I realized I was no longer at my lair. For when I got closer to the ground I came upon this over heated mound.

The cat was going to be burned alive. There was nowhere else to take the dive. This was it for me. I would never again see bush number three. Burnt to a crisp and turned to ash. My life began to flash. I felt the heat drawing near and it singed my little rhyming rear. Then I was....I was.....hmmm I was alright. For I never left my site.

Did I not mention when drawing your attention that this was "What I did not do on Wednesday?" I guess I neglected the "not" at my bay. Oopsy! My mistake. I thought you would have guessed this was fake. Now, now, don't talk crass just because you were fooled by my little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Belittle The Skittle A Little!

Newflash of the day. The cat is off on some adventure at his bay and Pat gets to be a runner at his work sea. Don't ask as it doesn't fill him with glee. But never fear for that cat's minion is here. You will get rhymed back too in the comments below and oh this should be such a fun show.

The backstory came from another lair. Maybe someone obsessed with hair? But that is neither here nor there for this knowledge is quite rare. It seems that through a rather odd affair the fact that trolls like skittles came to bear. Even if they throw them back they still supposedly like skittles no matter if they are under attack. I never knew this. I guess I just do not know what cause trolls bliss. Now we have to find out why for it could be a lie.

Give a troll a little,
Give a troll a lot.
As long as it's a skittle,
And nothing pokadot.

No, not peanut brittle.
No, not hot sauce.
If you want an acquittal,
Forget the reindeer moss.

It doesn't matter how.
It doesn't matter who.
No milk from a cow,
It looks too much like glue.

Lose the fancy bag,
Lose the clever grin.
He might start to gag,
When you bring the skittles in.

You need to color code,
You need to keep track,
Take an extra load,
And hide them behind your back.

Put them in his hand,
Put them in his shoe,
Forget nose land,
You'll just make him go achoo.

Do not stay to chat,
Do not run away,
He'll give you a head pat,
If you give the right display.

He's not in the bed,
He's not in the loo,
Remember what I said,
As here's your final clue.

Turn left just a little,
Turn right just a lot,
Now take each skittle,
To his comfy closet cot.

I told you not to grin,
I told you not to talk.
We'll consider this a win,
Next time you better knock.

Now you know the who,
Now you know the why.
Welcome to the crew,
Let's give it another try.

Okay, that went totally in a different path with my rhyming wrath than I intended it too. But damn a pretty catchy one came due. I might have to make that into a book here at my nook. All that from a troll and some skittle sass, sometimes I even impress my own little rhyming ass.

Experience spring, have a fling.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

The Swashbuckle Chuckle Stretches My dVerse Knuckle!

If you remember about a month and a half or so ago. A certain task was asked by Mary at my show. And so I spun the tale and it had a whale. Then Heaven, dVerse and Hank said I should walk the plank. So the journey began for the cat and a tale was spun just like that.

I bet you never knew,
A kangaroo only liked one shoe.
That fountains were magic as well,
Take it away and things go to hell.

No, no words like that are spun,
For those are only used here for the cat's fun.
But many more things arise,
Like a crow with four eyes.

Yeah, it has double the head,
Must cause quite the re-tread.
At least they can chat,
Not needing another at their mat.

Did I mention the clown,
Who seems to forever frown?
He is a captain too,
So walking the plank might come due.

And since the cat can't draw,
Blame the claw on the paw,
Also Pat is even worse,
And would surely make you curse.

But the great Besercules came to the cat's aid,
Drawing and coloring each in their own shade.
Giving the cat's tale life,
With art that would never cause strife.

On with it already you say?
Well okay.
For today at my bay,
Comes the cat's first Children's book out there for display.



Dr. Seuss can once more kiss my caboose,
As the cat let's the rhyming hang loose.
And according to a certain Zombie Elf,
It should fly off the shelf.

Yeah, I know.
I'm plugging away at my show.
But it was called for by you.
And so The Swashbuckle Chuckle has come due.

There were many more behind the scenes as well that helped ring the cat's ego bell. These guys and girls just egged on first after some rhyming burst. Thanks to all of you as well and now I must tell to click the links above and see the early review love. Go ahead and take the lap for the cat is done with this nice crap. I need to go back to being crass and so once more the cat has stretched the skill of his little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Whoopdi Friggin Doo Has Not Got A Clue!

Robbie Raisin here and I was once again going to spread cheer. I was going to upstage the cat here at his own mat and give an even better giveaway than him. To prove to you all I will lose life and limb just to appease the audience of my show. But some dirty person stole the prize Whoopdi Friggin Doo was going to use to give off such a glow. Thankfully I have hired the services of Tarsier Man for Robbie Raisin is a big fan. He will save the day and track down the prize to put on display.

Tarsier Man and The Prize
Both these fools are so unwise
And as usual it is told by the cat
Here at my mat.

Tarsier Man searched for a clue,
After his payment came due.
A fool and his money soon parted,
Oops I farted.

Where was I?
Oh yes that Tarsier Man guy.
He searched and searched and come up dry,
Thinking this theft was a lie.

He declared Robbie Raisin a liar,
And set off to put out a cigarette fire.
Stating it was bad for the guy's lungs to smoke,
But he made the guy choke.

For he shoved the cigarette down his yap,
When he tried to grab it from the chap.
He used the Heimlich on guy from behind,
And Tarsier Man got him out of his bind.

Stating he told him cigarettes can kill,
And strutted off getting quite the thrill.
He bent down to throw the cigarette in the trash,
When he saw an eyelash.

Tarsier Man declared he was back on the case,
As this could only come from a thief's face.
He popped his eyes from his head,
And sent them around staring at all causing them dread.

There he spotted the missing lash girl,
And he encompassed her in a whirl.
His body finally caught up,
And his eyes popped back in without a hiccup.

It was The Scribe who had stolen the prize,
Decked out in a clever disguise.
Thinking she could get the money in USD,
If the prize no one was able to see.

Tarsier Man's eye popping left her a tad disgusted,
But she knew she was busted.
Tarsier Man took The Scribe back to Elisa's sea
Before collecting the other half of his fee.

He even got the above new book,
For his trouble of bringing The Scribe back to her nook.
Robbie Raisin danced around,
Glad that his prize was found.

Tarsier Man once more heard the call,
And set off for another hall.
That raisin nut you can see below.
But shhh I'm going to cut him short at my show.

Robbie Raisin is back with the prize and as you can see below I don't tell lies. Win either one of these below just sign in and go go go. Now on to the zombie foot dilemma once more.......

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Oops he's been cut off at my shore. But as you can see you now have another shot thanks to Elisa and her blog tree to win some more and so I had to share at my shore. Even if the Tarsier Man nut came back on the so called saving attack. All to promote her new book which you can see above and at her nook. So the theft tale has come to pass and that is all today from those nuts and my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Once Upon A Time? dVerse Knew I Could Not Pass Up That Chime!

This fairy tale stuff just flows out of me with ease and the cat can do it while he climbs some trees. But once more I will prove myself at the calling of dVerse here at my shelf.

Once upon a time,
When magic was in its prime.
There was a little town,
Who refused to follow the crown.

The Bearded King did not take kindly to such an act,
Finding the town in breach of their royal contract.
He hired Prumpy Witch to curse the land,
Wanting to exact his revenge on this rebel band.

She warned The Bearded King
That by doing such a thing,
If the town every broke free,
He would suffer for all eternity.

The Bearded King did not care,
And so Prumpy Witch sent up a magic flare.
Day went to night over the little town,
As the sky seemed to lower a cloud of fog down.

The fog encompassed the town from end to end.
Magic was also added to the fog's blend,
And it became as tough as stone,
Leaving the town trapped and all alone.

The Bearded King laughed as he got his wish,
Chowing down on a plate of fish.
Prumpy Witch warned him once more,
That not even in death could he escape suffering if even one broke from their shore.

The Bearded King paid and waved her away,
Thinking about the warning she put on display.
He sent his knights to round up a dragon,
And soon after they brought it back in a wagon.

Time passed as the throne was handed from king to king,
Each one learning the secret when receiving their royal ring.
As the tamed dragon remained on guard,
Making sure none so much as sent out a greeting card.

With each generation the town's story seemed to fade,
Before long all but one did not know how to even wield a blade.
They accepted that this was all,
And there was nothing past the fog wall.

That is all be the one,
Lee who did jobs by the ton.
His family had kept the notes from long ago,
And he knew there was more than the fog was willing to show.

He learned all he could,
And one day while chopping wood,
The fog wall seemed to dim,
And there she appeared before him.

The two seemed to be as one,
A spark setting off like the noon day sun.
Lee felt as if he knew her forever,
Then as if at the turn of a lever,

He reached out for her,
But she began to blur,
And fog surrounded his wrist,
Sucking her away into the mist.

Lee ran back to town to report,
What he saw to the court.
But all they did was laugh and send him away,
Not believing anything he had to say.

So he grabbed his sword and went back to the wall,
Not caring if it was fifty feet tall.
He was not going to suffer the blindness of fools,
Or bow down to any rules.

He whacked away at the wall,
Yelling at it and turning as he heard a cat call.
It meowed at him and ran off into the brush,
Lee took off after it in rush.

The cat hopped up on a rock,
Leaving Lee in a state of shock.
For an emblem appeared beneath it,
Exactly like the one on the sword he used to have a fit.

He spied a slot and shoved the sword in,
And the cat even seemed to give a grin.
It ran off as a cavern opened up below.
Lee followed it down sensing that woman's glow.

After a never ending staircase,
There she was once more staring him in the face.
She was entombed in a case of ice,
He figured it be easy enough for his sword to slice.

But a tail swung at him and barely missed his head,
While a voice declared he was dead.
No one would take the dragon's gift.
The maiden was his as long as he never let the fog lift.

Lee could sense her calling out to him,
So he sprang into action jabbing his sword in the dragon's limb.
It roared and breathed fire at his face,
While Lee jumped to another space.

He tried to grab his sword for another attack,
But the dragon turned and knocked him on his back.
It licked its lips as it hovered over Lee,
Gloating and buzzing about like a bee.

Lee reached out and touched the ice,
Finding her worth any price.
As the dragon decided it was time for lunch,
And went to eat Lee but received a punch.

His touch had melted the ice and set the woman free,
And she extended her arm picking up Lee.
The dragon roared once more,
As he sucked the air right down to his core.

He let loose a fire,
That was so dire,
It melted the rock wall,
Lee and the woman both took a fall.

They crawled under the dragon and there was that cat,
It did not seem afriad of the over grown bat.
The cat took off down the tunnel and the pair followed suit,
Avoiding the dragon as he yelled like a brute.

They made it outside and each became blinded by the sun,
But as the dragon came out they figured their troubles had only just begun.
Until the fog began to rise into the sky,
Circling the dragon so he could no longer fly.

It sucked him away and the town was free,
The pair went to thank the kitty,
But it had already left their side,
Unknowning to all it hitched a fog ride.

While Lee and the woman's spark turned to a mezmorizing glow.
It was later learned the cat had to send someone down below.
I guess a long long time ago,
A Bearded King shortchanged some old crow.

Once upon a time two souls met,
Knowing destiny as one was a safe bet.
Beating the odds and the overgrown bat,
They were brought together because of a cat.

And so another tale comes from me here at bush number three. These are always fun to do so I will thank the dVerse crew. The woman was left open to be who ever one deems fit as it seemed to work better than falling into some princess pit. So switch it to lad or substitue in your lass and that is the tale today spun by my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

A Day After Pat? We Can't Have That!

You silly humans need to give the cat a saint's day all his own. Especially if you threw Pat a bone. What? You did not know it was named after Pat? Shhh don't tell him that. As he got sent back in time by that Merlin guy, no lie! And he did something so great that his very own day became his fate. But the cat wipped his mind and now he doesn't know he has a saintly behind. He's no saint anyway so we'll just forget such a display. After all he likes mutts too. What kind of saint would have such a view?
So now that the cat is done his rant and we realize Pat is just another ant, it's time the cat warned all of you. For on this day lots of liquor seems to come due. Here is what could happen if you have one too many at your sea. Don't say you were not warned by me.

Ohhhh, aye-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di!

As you go to celebrate
Dressed all in green.
You could seal your fate,
Waking up to someone whose fifteen.
No matter how much you wail,
Or try to flee the scene.
Your ass is going to jail,
Where you'll become a queen.

Ohhhh, aye-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di!

Or you could just awake,
To an ugly head.
Looking at you like a steak,
Wanting to be fed.
You make a dash for the street,
Forgetting this bad porn.
But once on the concrete,
You find you're naked as the day you were born.

Ohhhh, aye-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di!

You wake up on a bench,
To the rising on the sun.
Finding an awful stench.
Blaming the nearest someone.
But as you stumble,
Finding it hard not to sit,
You give a grumble,
Remembering how you rolled in dog shit.

Ohhhh, aye-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di!

You wake up to the day,
Finding all the same.
Back at your bay,
You thought last night was lame.
Until you find the mirror,
Finding you shaved your head,
And as you draw nearer,
See it was replaced by a tattoo of Fred.

Ohhhh, aye-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di!

So before you take a swig,
Remember my tale,
For defiling a pig,
Will still land you in jail.
And if that's not enough,
Picture a running river,
And yourself in the buff,
As out explodes your liver.

Ohhhh, aye-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di!
Ohhhh, aye-dee-di-dee-di-dee-di-dee-diiii-deeeee-diiii-deeeee-diiiiiii!

So many scary sights when the liquor turns back on the lights. Add a hangover to that and I'm so glad I'm a cat. None of that crap is done by me and I can just sit making fun of all the humans at my sea. So dress in green and do a jig. Even tip your hat or wig. For I have warned each lad and lass and that is all I can do with my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Tablet Time Giveaway Once More With LeapPad or Cash At My Shore!

The cat is once more doing the giveaway thing letting this new one fling. As you never know it could be won at your show. Plus hey it's free and pretty damn easy, not to mention I get to be a cheat with the old meet and greet.

So here it is for all of you, at least those of the red, white and blue. Yeah, I know those stinkin' people down below always get to enter the contest flow. But at least up here when we win money it's tax free. So no tax man can take half which causes me such glee. I just had to rub that in today at my bin. Now on with the rules and I won't rhyme these facts so I don't confuse any umm delightful fools.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Prize Details:

LeapPad Option

  • LeapPad Explorer Learning Tablet
  • LeapPad Green Case
  • Headphones
  • AC Adapter
  • Duracell Battery Recharger with 4 AA Batteries
  • $20 LeapFrog App Center Download Card
  • Any 3 LeapPad Explorer Games
- Total RV: $280 -

Cash Option
  • Entrants intending to select the cash option MUST have an active PayPal account.
  • $250 will be remitted to the winner as a gift via PayPal.
ENDS March 30, 2012, at 11:59 PM EST

There you go, nice and easy to win at your show. Isn't the cat nice for bringing this to you and not chasing mice? Need me to say it twice? Pffft no dice. What? You still need a rhyming fix from my little rhyming butt? Well take a look above and some may just feel the love. For at the request of many that come to my sea and thanks to the name from The Grammar Nazi.

Now give the Who's Who At Bush #3 a pass and if you win you can thank my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Couldn't Pass This Up. Each One Had A Slight Hiccup!

The cat was reading some dumb news story thing here and there and figured it couldn't be that rare. So I looked about and found some things I had to give a shout. I guess that is just the way life goes or some sort of karma surely brings about woes. So it seems today the dumb news facts will be bursting out in teams.

Two seals were rehabilitated to the cost of quite the sum. Then when they were released back into the wild, people cheered and drank rum. One minute later a killer whale ate them both. That surely stunted their growth.

It seems a terrorist didn't pay enough postage one day on some letter bomb he sent to some bay. So it came back return to sender. He forget what it was, opened it and I guess you can say he went through a blender.

Seems some guy committing a crime would be better off as a mime. For his getaway vehicle sealed the deal. It had his name and phone number in foot high letters on the side. I'm sure that made the coppers smile wide.

Also I hear when people see a glass wall, no matter how tall, they climb it to see what is on the other side of it. Hmmm isn't that redundant by at least a little bit?

Seems a french farmer shot himself in the foot one day because a ghost appeared at his bay. Maybe the ghost was short? Or just wasn't the type to consort.

It seems a man liked to throw bricks. Through jewelry store windows and not at hicks. He did so one night to take his criminal mastery to a new height. But the window was made of plexiglas and it bounced back knocking him out cold onto his ass. There he would stay until the cops came and took him away.

A lawyer was rather cunning. For as his mouth began running, he stated how his client could not be held responsible for stealing and kept at his appealing. As his arm was the only thing that reached through the door and stole so his body shouldn't pay the tole. The judge agreed and sentenced his arm to one year in prison for the deed. His body could tag along if it wanted, the judge taunted. The lawyer and the defendant both gave a grin, as the defendant placed his artificial limb on the table and walked out, considering it a win.

Two bandits went to rob a store. One shouted the usual bit of lore. "Nobody move!" he said. This just proves he was messed up in the head. For his partner moved and he shot him. Oh how robbers are so dim.

There were burglars once more this time trying to rob a safe at their shore. But I think they were a tad confused which can be seen from what they used. They tried to cut through the thing with a laser tag gun. Is it any wonder why they never won?

Another robber went up to a cashier one day and demanded all the money from their bay. He got the money and he ran away. But the mastermind left his wallet on the counter for display.

There are so many of these that is just gives the cat fleas. Damn! Some people are really dumb. Their brains must really be in their bum. Anyway, that is the news I found out and just had to give it a shout. Yes, sadly it is all true too. I never made it up for you. Maybe they are so dumb because they eat too much grass? Either way it was quite funny to my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Island of The Gawker Part Three. Will We Ever Get Back To Our Sea?

So we're back with the glowy eyed freaks causing us flack. The godly one sure could run fast, as he was keeping up with the rest of the cast. I had no idea who Pat thought he was now as he made some ancient sounding vow. Miss Priss and I just kept up with Blabber and her tarsier pet not liking the incoming threat. She disappeared from view and I knew she was short but really? Disappearing can't be true. Thankfully it was not as she popped up out of  the ground waving her arm around. Blabber held open the top to her secret base and waved us into her place. The godly one wasted little time jumping in and Pat just curled up his nose at the ground letting his OCD win. We did not have time for that. So he was pushed in by the cat. Miss Priss and I jumped in behind and we all slid down into a bunker setting hoping we escaped our bind.

The tarsier perked up his ears and after a few seconds relieved all our fears, as Miss Priss and I heard it too. The glowy eyed freaks did not have a clue. Drazin dusted himself off and continued to grunt, trying to act big and brave as he did not like being saved by a runt. Pat seemed normal once more, as the bunker sparkled and was so clean you could eat off the floor. Miss Priss was still delighted over Blabber saving us and I was glad that tarsier was not like Tarsier Man and on the short bus. Although the bug eyed thing ran around me and I chased it up its little fake tree. What did it expect a cat to do? Never fear, no eating came due I just gave him a mew and turned as Drazin's yap let his name once more ensue.

"Drazin could have held Drazin's own."

"Right, godly one. Just like how you did when they buried you in the big beach litter box."

"Drazin can still take you fleabag."

"Keep dreaming godly mook. So how did you get here?"

"Yeah, what's with the radio and the shampoo?"

"Better yet, flea on the knee, Drazin has to hear that one."

Blabber seemed a tad overwhelmed by their questioning of her and bent down brushing my fur. I guess she liked that I kept my mouth shut and I appreciated the safety of her underground hut. I suppose being here this long with only yourself to talk too might make one go loony tunes, it's sad but true. In this case I was not sure though and then Blabber caught me off guard as she began to blow. She grabbed a handful of what looked like dust and blew it on me with one quick gust. I sneezed and felt really weird and then in my brain the answers appeared. Magic dust, I guess it beats rust. That was not the end of it though for I started rhyming out the answers like I was at my rhyming show.

On a typical New York day,
Blabber went to her work bay.
It seems some evil Japanese,
Were tired of her collecting fees.

So they wished fleas on her knees.
Looking to do a bit more than tease.
It wasn't divine,
But she was still fine.

Until the shampoo
It turns out using shampoo times two
Coupled with a magic flea,
Brought her across the sea.

A flea on the knee,
A knee with a flea.
Took her across the sea,
At least it wasn't on me.

Blabber appeared before The Gawker,
Thinking he was another creepy stalker.
But that soon turned to concern,
As she felt his gawker burn.

"So a magic flea brought this Blabbermouth here? Drazin has heard some stories but that takes the cake."

"I'm sure Merlin jumped out of his Sword in the Stone Disney feature and had a hand in it."

"Pat's right. Besides oh godly one, you never told us how you got here."

"Drazin was eating french fries and then Drazin appeared on that beach."

"And magic french fries are better how?"

"At least Drazin can blame the french, Drazin bets they were Canadian too. Those damn french Canadians with their french "eh" can't be trusted. All the Blabbermouth runt here has is a flea. Drazin guesses she can blame a fleabag like you two. Great! The rhyming fleabag isn't done."

The Gawker's dome,
Was made of chrome.
With a shiny mohawk,
Increasing his gawk.

His Grammar Nazi chief,
Had crashed on the reef,
Heading to Bangkok,
Before getting gobbled up by the gawk.

The Dictionary Collector,
Was a knowledge protector.
Seeking a rare prized work,
Before he got gawked upon with a smirk.

The Penguin Man,
Was an obvious penguin fan.
He was on a secret mission,
And got gawked into submission.

These three lieutenants led the pack,
As they circled Blabber ready to attack.
She had nowhere to run,
Thinking she was done.

For The Gawker began to glare,
After seconds he parted his mohawk hair.
His head opened like a can,
Blabber found it gross and was not a fan.

Out popped a big eyeball,
The size of a basketball.
It was attached to a cord in his head,
And this is what he said.

The Gawker will have your soul,
This is the toll,
To live among The Gawker's land,
So give me your hand.

All your cares will go,
As you suffer my gawking glow.
Becoming one of my elite,
Won't you be a tasty treat.

He stepped closer,
Like a trained cat mouser.
Expecting Blabber to stay still,
But that ugly sight gave her OCD no thrill.

Thanks to her fit,
She still had her wit.
But being surrounded by each glowy eyed freak,
And stuck on Gawker Peak.

Left her with no course of action,
And she was slowly falling for his gawking attraction.
She kept worrying about her hair,
Almost succumbing to his stare.

When boom,
She swung her head around and her hair brought them doom.
It seemed to stretch for a mile,
And they found it quite vile.

The glowy eyed freaks charged her,
And the rest is a blur.
As Blabber stepped back,
And avoided their attack.

By accidentally falling from the peak,
Awaking to the tarsier near a creek.
And has since avoided another round with The Gawker coming due,
Still wishing for at least two kinds of shampoo.

"Fleabag, Drazin thinks that dust made you high. Magic hair? Falling from a cliff and living? Drazin knows this is all bull. Drazin is going to find this Gawker guy and make him eat that eyeball."

"It does seem like a bad day at Hogwarts or something."

"Even the godly mook makes more sense then this."

The three stood around confused and even though I felt a bit used, I somehow knew it was all true and could see everything in my mind's view. This dust was kind of cool and it did not make me drool. We all tried to process what we would have to do to stop The Gawker and his glowy eyed freakshow crew. We curled up and rested until dawn, hoping tomorrow we would be home and this place would be long gone.


The more and more this damn place get shoved in the cat's face, the more we end up finding out some freaky crap. Dust that can make the cat rap? Geez, as if I need that. Now I was almost as whacko as Pat. But at least we were safe under the grass and that ends part three of the tale concerning my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Some Are So dVerse They Lack Common Sense And Are Completely Dense!

The cat saw a stat once more as I was going around to each shore and figured what the hell, I'll ring the stat dVerse bell. Not sure where this crap comes from or who pulls them out of their bum. Either way I will use just to abuse. So to those lacking common sense don't get tense. I don't care if you're dense but I will still give my ten cents.

Just for fun
The stats will run
Even though they are a load of bull,
Let's give them a pull.

Touch a burner and it burns,
40% didn't know it gave such returns.
85% of traffic accidents are caused by speed.
Being stationary causes 15% too so take heed.

Apparently there are fools,
Using power tools.
As 14% have chopped off a limb,
Because they were dim.

22% have stuck their finger in a socket,
Think they flew like a rocket?
19% have fallen from a tree,
And banged their pretty little knee.

Or maybe it was their head they hit,
Turning them into a nitwit.
As 42% have fallen from a roof,
I guess the tree wasn't their last goof.

A high percent have been bit by mutts,
Got fat off of Dunkin' donuts,
And other fast food,
Looking like Al's humongous dude.

Okay! That is more like one percent,
For that bed is surely bent.
78% get drunk and talk,
They then try to walk.

Neither task ends up well,
Usually landing them in a jail cell.
The other 22% play chicken with a car,
And don't get very far.

26% have an alien abduction story,
Some are rather gory.
As 11% say they were found in all their glory,
I delve no further, sorry!

Music and crime,
Seem to be sublime.
As 22% have done the deed,
To some music at their feed.

0% when dreaming deep,
Answer yes if asked are they asleep.
56% answer no,
The other 44% suck on their pillow.

And finally 90% of people under Earth's tent,
Aren't in the top ten percent.
That's probably the only one that is true,
Of all the stats I gave to you.

Weren't those stats grand? I hope you aren't part of any of those stats at your land. But if you are part of one or two I won't make too much fun of you. Maybe just a little bit but I'm sure you can take the hit. For the cat knows even poor dumb Pat has done stupid things at our mat. As always feel free to give some sass and that is all today from my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Tarsier Man Has His Own Brand As He Invades My Land!

Doesn't he think he is grand? I'd like to make him pound sand. So after he heard from all of you that you wanted his theme not only in your view, but to be sung as well. He went through hell to make it come to pass and once more I have to tell it with my little rhyming ass.

Tarsier Man had no dough,
For his theme to show,
To the masses of globland,
So he stuck his head in the sand.

No money there,
Just an old pear.
At least he figured it was that.
More than likely something buried by a cat.

So he set forth for a save,
And noticed a guy starting to shave.
That razor was so sharp and shiny,
And the guy was so tiny.

So he sprang into action,
Putting the poor guy in traction.
For he swiped the razor from him,
As he was trying to trim.

Of course that cut his face,
The size of a shoelace.
Tarsier Man knew he saved the day,
For it could have been worse the other way.

He confused the poor guy so bad,
That he did not even get mad.
He actually paid the bug eyed creep,
And so now you can find his theme song below at my keep.

It has some pretty visuals too.
That he threw in for all of you!

So there we go, doesn't it have such a fun flow? I still want the nut to go and it will never top the theme of my show. But it has it's moments I will say as I kick the bug eyed creep out of my bay. Now are you pleased it has come to pass? I sure am, so he will no longer bother my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

1999 Ways To Be Dull As Dirt With Some dVerse Rocks For Dessert!

If you want to be anything but dVerse besides the odd curse, go do half a dozen tax returns in one day. Warning! You may want to drown yourself in a bay. You'll get some serious brain drain but it will lead to this thought train. Plus your words and anything remotely involving intensity will die which will please those guys pointed out by that Bly guy. Too lazy to think back to 1999 plus at a whole 14 can't recall much too divine. So I'll play with the quote as the stupid tax thoughts continue to float.

They send you a paper, summed up from short to long.
Unwise to their caper you think what ease, wrong!
With 1999 sections and dull as dirt descriptions,
Along with 5000 more directions leaving you needing drug subscriptions.

Gobbly goop runs high,
Shifting the bullseye.
Jumping through another hoop,
Forging more gobbly goop,

Add to the file and get a case if indigestion.
Forget the style and creative suggestion,
Rub out the point to the next decimal,
Lather up and anoint for the medical.

Here comes more gobbly goop,
Why not have a double scoop?
With a free butt plug,
The gobbly goop slithers like a slug.

1999 rules go upside down and time for a recount,
For 1666 take the crown and rearrange the amount.
Percentages become a draw looking to screw.
Lower you get the claw, higher a hand comes due.

No ease in gobbly goop,
You now have a troop.
Forging the mind to none,
Save another gobbly goop run.

Great new additions arise giving a little hope,
Oops! Just a disguise screwing over the dope.
For true correlation brings about a measly sum,
Leading to more taxation to your bleeding gum.

Gobbly goop has control,
Suffer and sell your soul.
Living on the stoop,
Succumbing to the gobbly goop.

For there in the lines lies the truth,
More profitable than diamond minds or great aunt Ruth.
Interest gained while you gobbly goop gawk,
Easily rained in your state of shock.

Gobbly goop strikes again,
Draining men and women,
Gobbly gooping pockets of those,
Who can't count without their toes.

That is the end of numbers for me they can take those forms and shove them with glee. Even the stench of such crap rubbed off on the cat from that Pat chap. I think I have to go shower the stench of that tax crap off me now or at least get some chow. Maybe the cat will eat a bass. I hope it will stop this tax crap from coming out my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Make Your Pity Looks Halt Because It's Your Own Damn Fault!

So Poor Pitiful Me walks around when she is sick, like all should declare she did some neat trick. She wants to lap up the attention of all because Poor Pitiful Me is once more giving the sick call. Well I know half is placebo or Poor Pitiful Me's cry to be seen. I think she wishes she would even turn green. That way all would ask and she wouldn't have to ooo and ahhh like she drank something interesting from some flask.

One little sniffle and off she goes but the nut seems to like the woes. Of course her sometimes germiness curls my toes. Especially when for the fiftieth time she blows her nose. But it as an easy fix, yet she likes her tricks, thinking it gets her attention or some sort of mention.

So you look at me and whine,
Pretending you aren't fine.
When really you are,
Completely on par.

Even when you are not,
I don't care if you whine a whole lot.
For you are the dumb one,
As you let your whines run.

Touch a door knob,
Shake hands with Bob.
Oh look he whipped his nose,
With his hand before his pose.

Open some mail,
Scratch your ass like you got a tail.
Yeah, it happens for real,
Really a scary ordeal.

Then oh golly gee,
It's snack time for thee.
Yank it out of your purse,
As you pretend to feel worse.

And you chow down,
With your fake half frown.
Then you have the nerve to wonder,
Why germs begin to plunder,

Your ever so itchy rear,
More like a nervous twitch I fear.
The sink is ten seconds away,
But oh no another ooo and ahhh has to have their say.

Can't take ten seconds to wash your hands,
That might help clear your germy glands.
We can't have that,
Then you might squash those germs flat.

Oh no!
You could forget how to fake sick on the go.
You need those germs to ooo and ahhh about.
So people look at you when you shout.

So glad when you turn away,
Just maybe a finger goes on display.
But if you truly want attention,
And an ongoing mention.

I promise there is an easier way,
Just get up and pretend you have something to say.
But forget your fake sick sass,
And just scratch your ass.

I guarantee people will talk then,
You still won't turn on men or women.
But you'll be the talk of the town.
The compulsive ass scratcher with a fake sick frown.

Hmmm maybe Poor Pitiful Me should get the nickname Ass Scratcher at my sea. Which one do you think would work well for my rink? Now wasn't that some fun facts on her stupid acts? The cat may pass gas but at least I don't scratch away, night and day, at my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Island of The Gawker Part Two For All To View!

I had no want to climb up to that peak or go through the jungle and cross a creek. But it seemed we would have to do such acts, so we continued to make tracks. The voices in Pat's head had come back and now he thought he was Zeus pretending to throw lightning bolts at any branches that decided to attack. Drazin stayed out in front giving off the odd grunt, while Miss Priss and I stayed in between the two hoping Petsy's tale of an army of glowy eyed freaks was not true. We all slunk down in the grass as a huge sound started to amass.

We peered through the bushes to find, let's call her Irish Air, out in the middle of nowhere. She was sucking back the liquor and beating her drums quicker and quicker. The mountain of empty bottles piled high would be enough to make any normal person die. I guess she could suck it back well and we sat and watched for a spell. Drazin had enough and Pat, still thinking he was Zeus, also wanted to get rough. They were going to make her talk assuming she was somehow part of The Gawker's freaky flock. The pair leaped into the clearing while Miss Priss and I remained peering.

"Drazin wants to know how Drazin gets out of this hell hole. Tell Drazin now!"

"I will smite thee with the power of thunder if you don't talk wench."

She looked over the pair and seemed not to care, taking another swig of her liquor and I think I heard her snicker.

"Bugger off you eejits."

Drazin and Pat did not seem to like that. They circled to either side and Irish Air just smiled wide. She flicked the end off her drum sticks and stopped playing her music mix. They were like mini swords, making Pat and Drazin stop moving towards. Her eyes grew big as she once more too a swig, calling the pair names I care not to repeat. For it seems we stopped her beat and it was the only thing keeping the glowy eyed freaks away. They howled and circled above us having their say.

"Mess with an Angry Lurker and you'll become a Gawker worker."
"The Gawker's right hand Waffle will do things to you that are awful."
"Go near bathtubs and you'll be drowned by Shockgrubz."

"With all this rhyming Drazin is sure you feel right at home fleabag, but Drazin thinks it's time Drazin got out of here."

"What? A god afraid of a few freaks?"

Irish Air sighed and Miss Priss tossed her another bottle as she smiled wide. She then sucked the liquor back and went back on the drumming attack. The poor glowy eyed freaks flew off out of sight. Add another weakness that causes them a fright. Pat still tried to hurl imaginary lightning bolts their way, it was quite the nutty display.

Irish Air screamed as she played not wanting the drumming to fade. It turns out she and her drums had been sucked into this place by some nosey neighbor not liking the drumming coming from her space. She found this huge supply of liquor and heard the glowy eyed freaks bicker. So she played away and has been doing so night and day. Irish Air was not going to let those buggers win as long as she had some gin. She thought we were crazy eejits for going to face The Gawker, that was no shocker. Irish air offered to help should we find a way to stop The Gawker from causing dismay. But she was not about to leave her liquor stash until we had a plan that would not get her turned to ash.

I whacked Pat and he stopped his imaginary fight and off we went as day became night. Drazin let his red eyes glow and he does make a pretty good flashlight just so you know. We followed a path hoping not to suffer any glowy eyed freak wrath, looking back we may have been better off for we heard something that sounded like whooping cough. Pat immediately snapped back to normal wishing for the paranormal, as his OCD took control and he did not want those germs to take a stroll.

It came from all directions as out popped this Besercules nut saying how he had connections. We could join him and his army of apes or be squashed like grapes. Pat gave a sigh of relief no longer having his OCD cause him grief. Drazin smacked Bersercules upside the head and shaked his hand as it turned red.

"That's right. The ape king has powers too. Join or die!"

"Listen you George of the Jungle wannabe. Take your Dr. Fate helmet and shove it up your gazoo because we aren't joining a bunch of damn dirty apes."

Of course normal Pat had to go and antagonize the self proclaimed king of the apes. Why couldn't he have thought he was the inventor of grapes? This was not good, as the apes came out holding sticks of wood. They swung them like a bat and I can tell they wanted to squash us flat. Stupid Merlin was going to pay for this as the apes started to swing, and thankfully, miss.

"These guys must have taken baseball lessons from Michael Jordon."

"Good one fleabag but Drazin is tired of all this monkeying around."

Drazin gave a smirk as he grabbed their stick and threw one to Pat, he grabbed another and the pair beat the apes back, to the delight of the cat. Of course Besercules could not keep his big trap shut and howled out into the night like some nut. Apes twice the size of those we just fought off came out and then Besercules started to cough. Pat curled up his nose and it even curled Drazin's toes. Besercules looked to have been bombarded by, well, poo and a small tarsier quickly came into view. Thankfully it was not that superhero nut or we all would have kicked his butt. He twirled up on the tree branch, making fun of Besercules and his ape ranch.

We had no idea what that tarsier was trying to prove. But before Miss Priss and I could move, we were snatched up by some jungle creature who swung down on a vine grabbing us like it was out of some Tarzan feature. It even got us across the creek and sent a vine to Pat and one to Drazin as he continued with his third person speak.

"Have fun with your apes. Drazin thinks you fit right it."

"Shut up, demon. We need to continue our quest."

Pat, once more thinking he was King Arthur, pushed Drazin across the creek and then he swung behind the third person talking freak. Which one was more of the nut was beyond my little rhyming butt. The tarsier was already on our side and we all smiled wide, as Besercules shook his fist while the apes behind him looked over their wrist.

The tarsier jumped on the shoulder of the jungle creature and it turned out not to be a Tarzan feature. Drazin let his eyes glow and we got a good look. It turns out a woman got us across the nook. Miss Priss seemed proud as she was always surrounded by a male crowd and found this just grand. I just wanted out of this land.

"Well if you guys aren't kept around for your abilities and it surely it isn't for your looks, why do I keep putting up with you."

"Shut up, fleabag."

"I believe because thou art fed."

All hope that wild jungle girl knew the way out quickly ended as she gave us a shout. She did seem delighted to have some company at last but after hearing Drazin I think that faded fast.

"Did you bring the shampoo?"

"It's flea on the knee girl."

"I will smite the flea, point thee out."

"Just what Drazin needs a crazy jungle blabbermouth runt."

Before we could get into anything the tarsier's ears gave a ring. Blabber dashed off into the jungle as we heard some glowy eyed freaks shouting out some weird rumble.With another Drazin mumble we wasted little time following her through the jungle and trying not to stumble. Pat muttered something about the Holy Grail, as the glowy eyed freaks were hot on our trail.


For an island in the middle of nowhere is sure does seem more like a carnival fair. I suppose that is what one gets from so much isolation. Part three will come some cat time same cat station. So until then we'll follow that Blabber lass and I'll keep on rhyming away with my little rhyming ass.

Enjoy your winter, smash a printer.