Pluto is too a planet in spite of what Dracula says

 
 
 

Toilet, all I needed was one more "T"
to be swirling down in it...


This week, we played on a different day. Couch surfers assembled on Sunday instead of the usual day. That must have been the reason why I was a little more on top of my game. The day prior I took care of my—and this may to some sound bad—Catholic obligations: I went to Mass at Immaculate Conception; I touched that Hebrew part of me that feels the Saturday Sabbath deep in the bones; it was all-in-all a holy day down to the moving conversations I had with others like me—unrighteous (in the eyes of the rule makers), but that’s another story.

I almost won this game. The spread of words was tight on the board. I was so excited through my exhaustion. Again, I got to lay down the first word, oxen, for twenty-two points. The secret to high scoring plays is to form multiple words. In one such round, I formed three accompanying words from laying down piety. Art Eddie won, because he was able to lay down all his tiles to score fifty-four points with the word wienies & els. In my shoe I had a complete word too, but Dracula was a proper noun, which is forbidden to use according to the official rules. I was robbed of a fifty-plus point play.

Those dam proper nouns!!
This would have been a great word too

The final scores were Art Eddie: 315 & slow-me: 296. I lost by nineteen points.



What the hell am I going to do with these tiles?


The words as they were played: Oxen, dee / do / ex / ee, jag / dog, jail, beer, Aas / aa / dogs, nod / ro, aloud, dour, node / hero, be / dance, oi / in / un, cage, am / cum, qat, tin / qi, lice, liners, zone / el, wienies / els, ‘ey / it / we / piety, licer / orey, oh / hail, flame, kit, of / lo / if, vows / skit, ut / lot, bunt, cager, pe / po

My whatever

“Ey po, po ex-ut dee” Pluto asked?
“Aa oh qi pe po oi,” Aas answered.
Pluto was a dour dog
Aloud in the zone
Lice liners bunt orey hail
Aas fed oxen in the tin cage
A dour jag of beer wienies
“Dance the hero without a kit,” Aas vows
“Be like Lot in the flame.”

Pluto stated, “Cum ey bunt dee we; qi node am ex ut.”
In piety, be not the hero of the skit;
if aloud, drink dour beer in jail.




ART Eddie and Pluto's Dance

aas jag dance pluto
aas ut oi pe

aas aloud we hail pluto
cum be tin dance, sail
aas flame aloud and hail pluto

no dour skit no qat kit
no bunt piety no un tin
no ee no dee

dour zone your cage your orey-flame
aas lice dee dogs and dance
aas cage aloud your jail
hero, be am pe dee
hero, beer am qi
wienies, wienies bunt piety
aas pluto aas qi
aas nod cum cager zones
aas hail your flames
aa cum sail cum sail pluto

Do you see any cool adventures in these words? Give it a try. There are plenty of spaces for comments.

Tavern Drama

On Saturday, November 27, three couch surfers gathered at Café Racer for another competitive game of scrabble poetry. I was hung-over from the previous night’s drama playing darts with contra dancers at a Wallingford tavern. Somehow I managed to play well enough even though I lost the match.

The final Scores were: Bill – 176, Ahmed – 193, Dan – 205

As you can see, at one point in the game, the scores were really close. But in the end, I fell behind, as usualy. Someday I will be the superior player, but this day it wasn't me. This day that player was Dan...

Words as they were played: Poet (this was my word), tweed, ef / ef / we, drama, bap, gun / ag / mu / an, wet, mut, ultra, aw / won, spiel / won, rob, zoo / so, yips / zoos, rho / yo, as / ox, detour, fed / age / mud, neck, revile, year / fa / ager, rager, tavern, zig, qat, na, joe, qi / hi, he / cage, jostle, send, sin, lax, sine, ee, in, son

My poem: The Hangover was all the Rage

The drama at the tavern was a rager
ef, ef, ee mu an rho
Yo, the sine of o
A spiel of so, said Joe
the lax poet in tweed


It was the year of the gun
Rob said, the son of sin
and bap, that wet ef-ing id
carried a heater into a zig

Joe was reviled at the zoo
he detoured Rob into a qat
he jostled the id in the cage
Yips the yo fed the mutt
and the ox with the thick neck


Ahmed’s Poem: a tweed poet's rage

tweed poet
drama spiel
yips me me yo yo
neck id sends
a qat jostle

ultra poet
sine sin, aw wet
wet rho tavern son
gun hi, lax vile
lax neck--qat-fed--
jostles ids

tweed poet caged
drama year rage
sine of the age ef ee ee
detoured me qi

na, detours reviled
mutt ef zoo
jostles cage

ultra poet,
mud mutt son,
vile spiel.

rage joe. rage.

Dan's Short: Tweed Joe Turned to his Son

     "Here's the spiel, boy. You're still a runt with a scrawny little neck, but today get your gun and we're gonna rob the tavern. There's a real rager going on and security's ultra lax."

     "But daaaaddd, robbery is a sin!!!"

     "No buts.... Son, you're going with me or your name is mud!"

     The cops jostled passerbys as they ran down a wet street that rainy night. "Tonight we catch Tweed Joe, the most reviled mutt in town. Better yet, the bounty will keep us fed for a year. Tonight, the battle against his criminal ways will be won!" They zigged and zagged through streets and ignored detour signs. Finally their flashlight beams shone upon the two masked me.

     Joe stared down the cops as his son cowered like a caged animal in a zoo. Joe yelled at his son, "dammit boy, why did you panic and get the yips!"

     "Aw, ef, dad. I can't take this drama. I want to be a poet!"

So the question is, what can you do with the words played in this game? Can you write something more clever? If so, put a clock on it. Fifteen minutes. See what you can pen, I dare you...

Thanksgiving with my super friends was great, but the after film was disturbing....

 
 

I went to see the movie Skyline after I returned home from a very good pot luck supper at Caroline's (my fellow co-coordinator of the Red Pen writers critique group). The thanksgiving chicken was cooked by her boyfriend Mathew ( a photographer). Aaron, author of SUPER, brought tofurky and I contributed a cornbread that I constructed out of organic whole wheat & fine-grind cornmeal. The tofurkey was very yummy topped with a chutney and a carrot based Mediterranean hot sauce called, Harissa. It was hard to believe that a simulated meat product could taste so good.



Hairy Potter and the Rose incident...



I suppose I should have gone to see the new Hairy Palmer film, but it had the same appeal as did Spice Girls. In McMinnville, I displayed a framed Spice Girls poster on a wall. Furthermore, I did see the movie, once, at the MACK Theater for a buck (it was not at all what I expected). I loved to crack my sleep crusted eyes open in the morning to those nicely shaped spicy girls bodies. It was reminiscent of my Junior-Senior year in high school when I had the Playboy Madonna photo opp (infinity superior to the Penthouse spread)  tapped to the inside door of my locker. Madonna as young woman had great body, but her music sounded (then again so did any genre that wasn't metal) like how vomit smells on a hot school bus an hour after you were sprayed by a car sick kid. Harry Palmer on the other hand, is not a "hand" I wish to gaze at. The series was one that I could have either taken or left. I think I'll seek out "Lost Boys: the Thirst" and/or 127 Hours first.

Skyline had two nice alabaster tuckuses in it and that may have been the only bright star to this entire disaster of fiction. Kind of like the girl in the Fifth Element. I watched it more than a dozen times just to see Leelo in her super athletic tape action suit run and jump. Usually, I give a film three viewings before I decide if I like it or not. But I have no intention of ever giving Skyline a second viewing. It was that bad.

Skyline reminded  me of an eerie British alien invasion mini-series I watched a few times about a decade ago on the Sci-Fi channel. Unfortunately, I don't recall it's title. However, it was in the same genre as the Body Snatchers, but there were no replacements per-say. People were controlled through genetic manipulation and/or harvested by the aliens. The most disturbing factor of Skyline was that there was no chance of redemption. Independence Day, also a shitty film, was at least partially redeeming because the characters ultimately prevailed against the aliens invaders. This was not so for Skyline. Skyline was the Kobayashi Maru that Kirk couldn't reprogram for a win.

The film is rated PG13, but I think it deserved an R rating for disturbing irredeemable violence. And the point of the movie, as far as I could tell, was that we never have as much time live as we think we should posses.

Is this for real?





I noticed today on my hike to Queen Anne where I spent Thanksgiving with Red Pen friends in a Bell Town window a poster for a movie. It seems, after 23 years, that Hollywood decided to create a sequel to the 1987 vampire thriller, Lost Boys. Granted, I like that movie. And I'd always wondered what had happened to Cory Feldman. I thought he'd disappeared and lived a quiet life as a car washer in middle America. But here he is again, appearing on the silver screen saying the same dumb things.



The Frog Brothers



I haven't seen the film yet. I think it may have skipped theaters altogether, but it is now out on video for all to see the reunion of the frogbrothers---humanities last defense. They stand between the us and the army of vampire warriors intent to drink the blood of America. In the Lost Boys, they used stake bow and arrows, squirt guns filled with holy water, and shirts of garlic, but in the frogbrothers revenge they are using more sophisticated weapons of vampire destruction.

I wonder if I'll feel ripped off if I rent it?

Adventure of a 42 year old

 
 

Denny Way & Bellevue Ave

I started my journey with trying to locate something at home that I could utilize as a sled. All I had was a aluminum baking pan, paper and plastic shopping bags. So, I packed it up and headed for Denny Way, which supposedly was closed. At least that is what the sign said at both the top and the bottom of the hill. 
I should have gone the day before when much of Capitol Hillians were out in mass shooting down this slop. But no, I had to be a creature of habit and go to my regular writers group at Pilot Books. I missed everything on the 11/22 including the cars & buses that got into it as well like that one on John Street.

staring down the barrel of Denny Way on a counter top



At first, I thought I was going to be the only person out trying my hind out at a controlled slip down the hill, but, luckily, I wasn't the only person. Joining me this evening were two dunk indigenous peoples and a few girls.







Sledding Materials from Home



The sled found along the way that almost killed me



My worthless sled destroyed




The abuse of the ground



Another slug found along the way