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The Fat Cat
Posts: 8379
Joined: Tue Dec 18, 2001 12:01 am
Tag line: Do no harm
Location: Novato, CA


Post by heinzs » Fri Dec 28, 2007 12:56 pm

Some of Sam's writings:

The Nuthouse Journal Entries:

Stupid Terrorist Flies Hang-Glider Into Side Of Building – “He fluttered to earth like a dead butterfly!” Say Witnesses

New York City – Witnesses here stared in curiosity today as a man on a hang-glider smashed into the side of a New York City skyscraper, wounding one and killing one. Both of them him.

Bob Larsen, one of the witnesses to the act, stated that at about seven-thirty a.m. he looked up to see the stupid terrorist. “At first I thought it was a really big bird,” says Larson, “but then I heard a man’s voice yell, Death to the American Devils!”

Larsen says that he could hear the thump of the terrorist’s head as he struck the side of the ten-story building in downtown Manhattan. Then, the man fluttered to the earth, as Larsen says, “like a dead butterfly”.

“I know a man died,” says Cindy Weiser, another witnesses to the terrorist act, “but it was funny. I don’t even think he broke a window.”

Larsen and Weiser state that they both ran over to the terrorist in order to laugh at him. “I couldn’t help myself,” says Larsen, “it was the funniest damn thing I have ever seen.”

Officials were immediately on the scene, including the NYPD and FBI agents.

“We got a call of a possible terrorist attack,” said Victor Stein, an agent for the FBI. “When we got there, all we saw was a large group of people standing in a circle laughing and pointing at something on the ground.”

Stein says that as he approached the group of spectators he could see what looked to be a red and white bird on the sidewalk. After being filled in by witnesses as to what had occurred, Stein, along with other FBI and police Officials, stood around pointing and laughing too.

“He-he had this-this note on him,” Stein stated, trying to control his laughter. “It said – it said – hee, hee! It said: “You be all gonna’ go dead! In the name of Abba! Abba is God! Long, long life live Abba!” Then he, along with other Officials, fell to the ground, rolling with hysterical laughter.

The terrorist was later identified as Mybum Bin Ahsmellen, a known member of a smaller terrorist cell called the Lari Curli Anmo, a group that was banned by Osama Bin Laden himself for having “really dumb ideas” and “endangering the welfare of the freedom of Iraq with their stupid ways.”

Three other men wearing hang-gliders were found in a men’s restroom at Grand Central Station, trying to get out the door.

“From the sweat,” says Stein, “we could tell they had been trying for a while.”

The three men were later identified as, Al Spankma Salami, Ahneeda Boobbi Jobba and Oma Godin Hevin. All three men were taken to the local FBI office, laughed at, and released later to White House Officials to be made fun of. However, reports state that President Bush doesn’t get it.

Meanwhile, other written threats from this same group are being examined, "but the crayon is really hard to read", say Officials.

Department Of Education Bans The Words Jihad And Pigs From American Language -
"We Find These Words Offensive!" Whines Offended Father, Ben Louden

Salt Lake City, Ut - Officals here issued a statement that the words "Jihad" and "pigs" would no longer be allowed in the English language based on repeated complaints from a local father and his family.

"Because of recent events," says Al Caida, Administrator for the Department of Education, "we have decided that we will not provoke the anger of sensitive and paranoid people. If a word is offensive, the best thing to do is to pretend that it does not exist."

The complaint over the offensive words "Jihad" and "pigs" had come from a local father, Ben Louden. "I was shocked when my eight year-old daughter came home reciting the story of the three little...well - you-know-what's," says Louden, "I asked her where she had heard such filth, and she told me she heard it at school. I was very surprised."

Louden says that since pigs were seen as offensive to the religion of the terrorist, then to use the word would only provoke more attacks. As for the use of the word "Jihad", which is the name of one of his daughter's fellow students, Louden says that it should be changed to Bob, or Marvin.

"Whenever I hear it, I get scared," squealed Louden, peeing his pants, "I don't want to hear anything that may offend me in even the slightest measure. Heil, Hitler."

"We think that people should just stop talking altogether," says FBI Security Chief, Ivana Shuchu. "It's pretty simple, really. Say something that the masses disagree with, and you'll find yourself in prison. Long live Satan."

Jihad Rishad, the student under fire, says that he did not mean to be born with such an offensive name. "I never dreamed that my name could endanger the security of America," he said, "I love this country, and would never do anything to hurt my people here!"

Officials dissected seven year-old Jihad's last statement in order to find hidden messages meant for his terrorist network. "He obviously said, endanger the security of America," claims FBI code-breaker, Ima Trader, also known as, "The Bomb" by her friends. "Jihad also said, hurt my people here. If that isn't a threat to America, I don't know what is! Bow down to Mohammad."

The Department of Education is looking for other words to ban. "There are allot of words we'd like to see taken out," says Terah Rist, a Language professor and Secretary of Overly Sensitive Americans Making Accusations group, also know as, OSAMA. "We want to see an end to offensive words such as: art, rights, love, God and terms, such as: 'I disagree with that', 'I am special', and 'oh, God, please don't kill me'. All of these need to go!"

President Bush is expected to sign the new law that bans these words sometime in April.
"I can't fight these people. I'm licked." Says Bush.

U2 Memeber“The Edge” Changes Guitar Lick From “Plunka-plunka-plunka-plunka” To: “Plunka-plunka-strum-plunka”

Dublin – “The Edge,” guitar player for the mega-hit band “U2” announced today that he had finally found a new guitar lick.

“I’ve been playing the same sound since the eighties.” Says 45 year-old, “The Edge,” born, David Howell Evans. “In songs such as, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, Where the Streets Have No Name, and pretty much any other U2 song you can think of, I’ve always used my plunka-plunka-plunka guitar sound. But now, I accidentally discovered another chord and my work has broken through to new levels of music.”

Evans claims that he accidentally discovered the sound while trying to play and smoke a joint – he means cigarette – at the same time. “I was plunking along and moved my hand to grab my joint/cigarette. As my hand reached down to pick up the joint, da, cigarette, I accidentally strummed the strings. I thought, damn! I’ve never heard that sound before! I had broken ground in new territory.”

Evans says the new sound is totally different. “Instead of just the plunka-plunka-plunka-plunka sound, I’ve added that strum. So now, my sound is: plunka-plunka-plunka-STRUM-plunka. See. It’s totally different.”

Evans, who had received his nickname “The Edge” after falling off “the edge” of a curb in Dublin twenty years before, twisting his ankle and ruining his left shoe, says the rest of the band is just as excited about his new sound. “Bono is the most excited,” says, Evans. “He told me that the new strumming sound will help enhance his whining voice. People love it when Bono whines. And they’ll love it when he whines to my strum.”

“We’re very proud of me,” says Bono. “I mean him, The Edge. We’re very proud of him. His new strum will make me look even cooler. I mean – make the band sound even better. Of course, if it weren’t for me and my famous style and influence on American culture, The Edge would have never found the strength to explore a chord outside of his usual one. What would we do without me . . . him?”

Bono stated further that he had also found a new sound and that reporters should write an article about it – maybe in “Time Magazine.”

“Make sure you write down that stuff about my influence,” said Bono. “I am the leader of the band, after all." After which, Evans smashed his guitar down on Bono’s head, making an even cooler sound.

“I get credit for that,” said Bono. “It was my head that made it possible! My head and no one else’s!”

Weapons Of Mass Destruction Found Under Saddam’s Mattress

Baghdad- Excitement ruled the White House today after news that weapons of mass destruction had finally been discovered in Iraq.

Saddam’s mother, Subha, 77, discovered the weapons in Saddam’s childhood home under the mattress in his old room. Included were two nuclear warheads, instructions for making dirty bombs, a box of Pez candy dispensers and a “Hot Boys of the Sand” adult magazine.

“I have not been in my son’s room for many years,” says Subha. “Saddy – which is what I call my little Saddam – always told me to stay out of his room.”

Subha says her son had hung a sign on his bedroom door that read “Destruction Area! Do Not Enter!” Subha states that she always respected her son’s wishes. But the constant stench from the room finally forced her to go in.

“Saddy has not been in his room since 1958,” says Subha. “He’s also in prison now, so I doubt he will do anything to get me back.”

Subha went on to state that she had received an email from her son when he’d heard the news of her discovery. The email said: “Aw! Gee mom! Can’t a guy have some privacy? You’re always goin’ through my stuff! Can’t you read? No one ever listens to what I have to say! I never asked to be born! I’ll bet you were spyin’ on me when I showered, too! Man!”

“Told ya’ so!” Said President Bush in a statement to White House officials. “I told you Saddam had weapons of mass destruction! And they were under his mattress the whole time!” Then, he jumped up and down, pointed his finger at officials and sang, “Told ya’ so! Told ya’ so! I was right, and now you know!”

Bush stated that he would dispose of the weapons as soon as he was done using them. “Since I turned out to be right,” Bush said, “then I get to be the one to get rid of them. Eventually.”

Oddly, the pornographic magazine has mysteriously disappeared, along with the Pez candy and candy dispensers. Bush could not be reached for further comment since he has been spending large amounts of time in the bathroom, where only loud crunching and the crinkling of pages can be heard. “Be out in a gosh-darn minute!” said Bush. “Gee! Can’t a guy have any privacy around here!”

Generic Responses To Poetry May Become Felony Offense – Just As Soon As Poetrypages Member Becomes President – A member here announced today that he had every intention of making it a felony for anyone to respond to online poetry in a generic fashion. The member, Bags, which is all this reporter knows about him (we think he may be an Irishman, too, so watch your liquor cabinet if you have him over), stated that the push for the felony would be his first line of business, if he were ever president.

“If I were president,” said Bags, “I would change a lot of things. One of them is I would make everyone dance like they do in River Dance. You know, with the legs going a million miles per hour, but the upper body remaining stiff and unmoving. That way you can dance without spilling your drink. The other thing I would change is the pathetic practice of giving empty, generic feedback to online poetry. Bastards!”

Bags says he is sick of having his fellow poets respond with “the same old, bloody tripe!” “I’ve made up a list of over ten thousand generic answers,” says Bags. “Here are just a few thousand:”

Included in the list are responses such as: “Nice write!” “Great read!” “Loved the imagery!” “I loved the last line!” (Which Bags says means they really hated the poem and only loved the last line because it meant the poem was over.) And, “Well, done!”

“When I’m president,” says Bags, “all of these responses will be considered a felony. No more will generic, empty, hollow, void, redundant repeats of the same feedback stock responses be allowed. Anyone violating this rule will be convicted.”

Bags has even chosen a phrase for the soon-to-be crime. “I call it Superficial Hollow Utilization of Tenacious Unintelligent Proclamations, or SHUTUP! And if anyone breaks this law they will find themselves doing prison time, where they’ll have to tell their cell mate, Bubba, that they’ve been convicted of the wussiest felony of them all!” Then, scratching his head, he said, “That is, when I’m president.”

Other Poetry Page members were offended by Bag's harsh criticism. “I think he’s insane,” said one member, SamIAm, who asked to remain anonymous. “I mean, I knew the Lucky Charm freaks over there in leprechaun land were snooty, but this is ridiculous!”

SamIAm says he will not change his style of poetry responses simply because a “deranged, power-hungry U2 lover” says he should. “My responses are creative, original, and all my own,” Sam says. “And my response to Bags is this: I have not yet begun to fight! I’ll be back! So bring it on, Bags, if you feel lucky! Well. Do you, punk?”

SamIAm was later found, beaten and bloody, in a dumpster behind the O’ Riley’s Bar and Grill with a sticky note pasted to his forehead that read, “You’re lucky I’m not president!”

New Study Released By Surgeon General – “WE’RE ALL GONNA’ DIE!”

Gary, Indiana – The Surgeon General released a long-awaited report today on the future of American health, revealing his results to 500 elementary children.

“After extensive studies,” says Richard Carmona, Surgeon General, “we have come to the conclusion that . . . WE’RE ALL GONNA’ DIE!!! OH MY SWEET-ASSED GOD!! WE’RE ALL DOOOOOOOOOMED!”

Carmona stated that the Avian Flue, or Bird Flu, could single-handedly kill all life on earth, especially children, who can be snuffed out – Snap! – just like that. “This disease has already claimed seven people,” says Carmona. “Seven! That only leaves four billion, nine-hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine-hundred ninety-three people to go! DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID?!? WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE KILLED WITHIN THE NEXT TEN THOUSAND YEARS!!!”

The Surgeon General listed other threats to human life. “Don’t drink the water, little kids, ‘cause it’ll kill you! How many times do you think we can remove crap and urine from drinking water before all that’s left is the crap and urine? Not long. Ever notice how salty the water taste anymore? And you brats are going to die sooner because you insist on putting your mouth on the water fountain spouts! That kid ahead of you in line could be your doom! And did you know that eating paste cuts your life expectancy in half? Why do you think artistic people always die so young? And in our day and age artistic children are the first to get snuffed. YOU HEAR ME?!! GODDAMN SNUFFED!!!”

Carmona mentioned other things that will kill everyone, “especially innocent children like you.” The list included: pollution, ultra violet rays, viruses, cancer, mutated cockroaches, anything with fat in it, anything with sugar in it, anything that taste good, anything that makes you feel good, tumors that develop from too much smiling, heart attacks and strokes from not smiling enough, diseases from being too fat, diseases from being too skinny, heart problems from dieting, heart attacks from exercising, heart disease and diabetes from not exercising, smoking, being around smokers, knowing of someone who smokes, not smoking, any breathing of oxygen, and little kids with runny noses, among others.

How can we protect ourselves? “You can’t,” says Carmona. “Even if you lock yourself in a plastic bubble and bury yourself a mile under the earth with oxygen, food and water, you’ll still die because plastic causes cancer! Don’t you see? There’s nothing you can do! PREPARE TO DIE!!”

After that, Carmona excused the children for recess. “And stop your crying,” he yelled. “polluted tears can cause brain damage! DID YOU HEAR ME?!! BRAAAAAIN DAAAAAMAAAAGE!”

Oil Companies Claim Good Reason For Raising Gas Prices - “We’re greedy bastards!”

Donald Barlowe, 38, President of Texaco Oil, addressed a group of protesters today, citing good reason for raising the price of gas to such an alarming height.

“I am here to set your minds at ease,” said Barlowe, smiling gently to the crowd. “We have good reason for raising the price of gas, a reason I believe you’ll understand. The reason is - we’re a bunch of money-hungry, greedy bastards.”

Barlowe continued to tell the crowd that he and others like him were selfish assholes that possessed no fellow-feeling for anyone, “not even our own families.”

“I love money,” said Barlowe, “and I’ll get it by any means necessary. I’m a satanic jerk. I think only of myself and the things I want, and I’m willing to pay off, crush, or kill anyone who gets in my way. Why, just yesterday I sold my three-year-old son on the black market for five million dollars. I really needed those pillow cases.”

Barlowe continued. “I’m a damn, money-hungry pig of a man. The world revolves around me. And, oh – I also love the overwhelming sense of absolute power I receive. I need that feeling because I’m an empty-hearted, whipped mama’s boy who wears women’s panties and still gets beat up by sixth graders.”

“I’m glad Mr. Barlowe told us his side of the story,” said Peter Wilson, 43, a steel fabricator. “All this time I thought they were raising gas prices because of Hurricane Katrina and the war, stuff like that. But I never stopped to think that there could be a different reason.” Then, wiping a tear from his eye, he said, “Bless those selfish sons of bitches! Bless them all!”

“It must be hard on the oil companies to know they’re such pricks,” said protester Sarah Olam, a twenty-nine year-old waitress. “It took a lot of guts for mister Barlowe to stand in front of us and tell us the truth. I had no idea what the real reason was for the high gas prices. I always assumed they needed the money to donate to charities. I never dreamed the real reason was they wanted to bend over the already struggling citizen and ram it up our tailpipes.” Then, giggling, she said, “Oh my goodness. I said ‘tailpipe’. Like on a car and stuff. Thank you, Mister Barlowe, thank you for giving me a reason to make up puns!”

“The people had no idea,” said Barlowe. They’ve been blinded by the media into believing other so-called politically correct reasons. Now they know the truth – a truth that had not entered their minds, ever! We don’t really care about you. We want your money. We want it all. We will take your money to Hell with us.”

To celebrate the new revelation, Barlowe and other oil executives sold hotdogs for $50.00, Dixie cups filled with water for $29.00 and free balloons for $23.00. The price of all three items increased every hour throughout the day.

“It’s just our way of saying thank you to all the good people we screw over.” said Barlowe. “And, boy, did they fall for it!”

Metal fabricator, Wilson said, “It’s all so symbolic. We stick a pump up our vehicle’s yen-yang then the oil companies stick it up our yen-yang. It’s poetry.”

Satan the Devil, former son of God, said he was also proud of the oil companies. "I love it when people suffer." Hissed Satan. "I love it when humans have to use their food money to pay for gas in order to go to the store to buy food. There's a magical irony to it. Besides, where the here do you think I get fule to keep this place burning? We have a Hellco a few body mounds from here. It's only two-hundred thousand dollars a drop. This is Hell after all. They got great Slurpees, too."

Then, turning to one of his demons he said, "Holy this place it's colder than this place in here! Turn up the goddamn heat before I beat the me out of you!"


I am darker than my shadow,
I am blacker than the night,
You take, take, take,
All I do is give,
I am rawhide tight

You are the digger,
I am the hole
You are the grave-keeper
I am the hole
You are the rusty shovel
I am the hole
The more you take away from me
The bigger I get

I am as untouchable as a nightmare,
As unremembered as a dream
You close your eyes
You see only ink
Bursting your eyelids at the seams

You are the clawing hands
I am the hole
You are driller
I am the hole
You are the bloody pick
I am the hole
The more you take away from me
The bigger I get

I am not the one who made you
Who you were or who you are
I did not build you
Nor tear you down
Not to blame for every scar

You are the digger,
I am the hole
You are the grave-keeper
I am the hole
You are the rusty shovel
I am the hole
The more you take away from me
The bigger I get

You have no idea how tough this was to wite! I need help with the winks to my poems. I awso give cwedit to Woburt Burns for da wine, "My wuv is wike a wed, wed wose".

The Wust of Elmer Fudd

Oh my wove, my heart gwows wustful
When I see your pwetty face.
I pursue you wike a wabbit,
And enjoy de wovewy chase!
My wuv is wike a wed, wed wose,
My heart wike a beating dwum-
Pwease take off your cwodes
So I may bwast you wif my gun!

I’m your pwomiscuous superman
Wif skin of yelwow-gween,
Dis is such a pwecious moment,
So wet my wifle in between!
Me, you and wuv,
We can be a manage twa.
I want to dwive your wed-hot Gwand Pwix
So wet’s wemove dat pwetty bwa!

Evewy wustful man knows dis:
A bird in hand should be in a bush!
I would give my own weft foot
Just to sqweeze your wovewy tush.
Ew, you wascalwy woman!
You wealwy dwive me wild!
You bwing me begging to my knees,
Just wike a widdow child

Bon appetit, my wovewy wady!
And my wuv don’t thwow away!
Cos your wuv is what I cherish
Until my dying day.
I can hold you, scwew you,
Make you scweam,
Cwy out for God above-
So cwave just me,
I'm your wuv machine,

Mister Elmer Fudd

Google Truth

I met you on the bus
I liked you right away-
Your feminine smile
Your challenging wit,
Missed my stop for yours that day

I had to learn more about you
So I did what I always do-
I got you to tell me what your name was,
Then went home and “Googled” you
Such a great tool, this Google
And I can tell you’ve been around
I typed in your name
Then I hit “search”
And this is what I found:

You died in 1860
At the age of twenty-two
You appeared again in 1910
Then died from Spanish Flu
According to “My Space” you’re twelve years old,
And you live somewhere in Spain,
So you lied since you told me you’re thirty-one
And lived your whole life in Maine

You run a porno web site,
Kind of weird, but also cool-
But I’m kind of bothered by this hobby of yours
Since you’re also a nun and teach pre-school
You own a church in Salt Lake City
Run a bar in Paris France-
You’re the leader of the Ku Klux Klan,
But teach black kids how to dance

You’ve climbed Mount Everest,
Lost your legs in Nam,
Was shot dead in World War Two-
You’re a lawyer, a doctor
A Mexican maid
You have a job feeding seals at the Compton Zoo
You have your own band
But you’re deaf and blind,
You’re currently alive
But you’re dead-
You’re five, you’re fifty,
You’re one hundred years-old
You died in Iraq when they cut of your head

Now I know the facts about you,
So I’ll keep our relationship frugal-
I’m so glad for the accurate information,
Thank you! Thank you, Google!
An' it harm none, do what ye will. Blessed Be.
My Poet's Page Archive | Topics I've started

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