My eyes burn like mamas din din -- Brody the Writter

My eyes are burning like mamas dinner
ouch

Who will stop this madness, who will pee on the jellyfish sting
Who will pay the parking stall attendant so we can all go home
Who will scoot over on the couch so I can sit down

There's a Baby carriage rolling down the street
I would stop it, but my eyes are burning and I can't see very well

Lockerroom erotica

This is a section from my up and coming book "The sexy life of Ryan, with sex"

It was approaching 9pm, and Ryan was almost done work. He only needed to sweep the squash courts and cash out before returning to his house to watch House. It was going to be a good night indeed. After doing his clean up routine he was almost out the door when he realized he had not cleaned the locker rooms.
"Fuck" Ryan exclaimed, not realizing the literal foreshadowing of his word.
Hastily grabbing the window cleaner and paper towels, Ryan rushed to the locker room to finish the job. On his way to the women's locker room from the mens, Ryan thought he heard a sound, but he quickly dismissed it as something coming from the arena on the other side of the community center.
Ryan opened the door without thinking and was stunned to see a beautiful women stepping out of the shower, totally nude, naked, and without clothing.
Ryan was shocked. Having never seen a naked women before this was incredible, but a women of such beauty (9.8 on the ranking system) nearly made Ryan faint from the loss of blood from his head.
Something strange happened then. The women didnt scream, or run to drop kick Ryan in the head. She just slowly felt around for her towel.
Did she notice me?
Ryan thought as he stood staring at the beautiful curves of this Goddess. Moments past as Ryan stood with his tent pitched, watching this women dry off.
maybe she knows im here and she likes it? Ryan was in the process of thinking, but just as this was happening Ryan dropped his Spray bottle, and the women looked up.

- Got to get back to school work now but anyone (brody) is free to finish this story off

Calondromity

What if you could train ants to fight?

Eating a form of submission?

I walked past some squash members (I work at a squash court) today with some honey garlic wings. This is normal in every way except that i wanted to hide the fact that i had food. Is this because its impolite to eat food while working? because you might find yourself in the inopportune moment where you must attend a customer while succulent chicken drips from your mouth? IS IT JUST THIS? i think not. think about any time you eat food. friends/family doesent count. picture a first date. think about how much care is taken into every bite. picture a work lunch. when talked to with your mouth full, dont you feel embarrassed that you have food in your mouth... FOOD! well i say fuck social norms. fuck nurture. im going to eat where ever and when ever i want.

Would you Rather (2)

If you had an office job
Would you rather work on the main floor of the building of on the top floor, which happens to be floor 78?

Dear Poetry Gods -- Brody the Writter

In my organized community, there has entered a women. She is a poet and knows it. People pay her for her poetriess forming of words. I being the curious cat am interested. How hard is it to write a good poem. The answer: quite.

I am by no means a poet in any fathomable way. I am a writter of words; however, by this I feel I should at least attempt to construct a poem.


I leave for you "The Poem of Someone Telling Me About You, And Me Telling You What They Said":


Someone told me
That you lived your life on the edge of a knife
Like the cats screaming at the dogs between them
Not a concern or a cry
to give
to anyone
to ever live

Your a soul bleeder with his hat on the rack
A life taker taken the shirt off my back
A misinforming informant with your news come a storming
Wearing down your nails just trying to bore us

Bad news don't break you
But good news don't make you
It's a common misconception that feeds your infection
A common person searching for ressurection
And you've got it all,
and your all is their nothing at all
A warm blanket to soak up the water

pebbles and rocks to drag you down
to the bottom of the paragprah
the bottom of your head
to rest a little longer
to the bottom of your raspberry fruit stand

Plumes and plods to connect the dots
Of flying tree rabbits under swirling banana clouds
Filled with sweat ice creamy treats
Filled with hard hitting hammers and straight striking bows
And arrows to strike straight the apples among monkeys têtes
pillow lungs and ringy dungs, with bleeps and bloops among you
Wippy dipp do goes the marching sight of steel swords and knights

The Lonely Butterfly Hunter

As if the flowers weren't flickering between the flaps of butterfly wings. As if there wasn't time to document the colour pattern. The lonely butterfly hunter removed his rusted white butterfly net in twitching eagerness to catch some ignorant little butterflies. Butterflies.
(Swoosh!)
One swipe of the net and one disappointing miss.
Pathetic butterfly hunter.
(Swoosh!) Pathetic.
(Swoosh!)
Butterfly hunting is difficult and it doesn't help that the butterflies are ignorant.
(Swoosh!)
Yes. The Butterfly hunter all at once stoled three little butterflies from the freedom of their Butter Flight. Three Pathetic Butterflies.
ButterFly hunting is difficult and it helps to use a large lightweight butterfly net.

The butterfly hunter took his butterflies home. He put them in his mixing drum and stirred them into a pulp. It was only natural that he put two slices of bread in the toaster. Then he spread the fly butter on the toast and topped it off with raspberry freezer jam. The spoils of a successful lonely butterfly hunter.

Ok this is a little Bizarre -- Bizarro Brody

Zebras are forming industrialized communities without filling out the proper permits first. They've already started building factories on lands that aren't yet authorized for land development.

An investigation into the ongoing breach of bureaucratic mechanisms led to the discovery that zebras avoided filling out the permits, because they are not high functioning mammals, but rather primitive grazers. Also it appears the factories they are allegedly building consist of only a few small branches a young zebra pushed into a pile.

Whatever the cases be with the situation, the permit filling laws were broken and the consequences must be laid out. All zebras well have to be killed.

recruiting

This is a call out to all members and non-members that we are having a limited time recruiting offer for the fall! comment here if you are interested in sharing what you think is interesting with the rest of the world! so far tyler is political, jon is scientific, brody is fantasy/bizzare and i am all over the place (random). YOU could be the new part of this blog!

Do you feel alive? -- Brody the Writter

Do you feel alive?

When someone shouts your name, does it shake your skeletal girders?

Do you sit still and let the world pass through your eyes like the wind passes through your ears, or do you take stance in awkward attempts to humor its approach. Do you eat sandwiches only because you like the word sandwich, not because delicious chicken and tomato passionately greet it's breaded neighbors before dancing erotically on your nervous tongue; a tongue that lacks merit in its function, useless in the dark dungeon you restrict it to, like some sort of twisted speechless dictator.

12:04 eh em, cough.


whistle.