Chat or conversation

Having a party?
Oh. It's just a soiree with some colleagues.
A very certain type...but yes
...under the umbrella of parties.
I suppose parties are for little ones.

World Tour Burnout

Chris Hansen is experiencing WTB.
World Tour Burnout.
Too many altruistic deeds in too many places.
Permaculture farming in Palma.
Passing out condoms to sex workers in Cuba.
Cycling for Cystic Fibrosis.
Gay Pride Marches in Israel.
Putting a roof on the Faerie Community in Tennessee.
Where to go next?
He's thinking of settling down.
How can he ever settle down
When there are so many emergencies in the world?
He's sent out a mass e-mail to all concerned
Asking those who know him best
To suggest a location.
A Virtual Vote.
There's an idea for a website....
Put your problem on the internet and then ask
Anonymous people to vote on a solution...cool.
I'll be a millionaire.
So he's thinking about it while he housesits
at his brother's in upstate New York
One of three VP's for Bayer Aspirin
And won't he be glad of his lifetime supply
With Christopher posing as gardener.

Obituary Olympics

We git a Chrustnas card frin The Oratts.
Actually, that's an interesting new language
Which comes from trying to smoke a cigarette while typing.
Don't smoke and type.
Unless ofcourse, you want a new language in your life.
That would be smoking.
I'll start again.

We got a Christmas card from the Pratts.
We knew it was from the Pratts as they sent a photo.
So we could identify them.
But they have changed their last name
As nobody, even if they are a Pratt,
Wants to be a Pratt.
To The Ozbournes....
Really dull.
And they spelled it wrong too
As Osbourne is usually with an "s".

Pratts at heart.

It was ailments every other line....
More ailments than family members.
Everything from heart attacks to corns on feet.
No body part was left untouched.
The first two ailments, we read and recoiled
Feeling a little sad for them
But as the list went into two pages
very large stationery
We were busting our guts by the end of it
As no one can take too much misery.
I think they won the hospital decathalon by miles.
Maybe next year, they can win the obituary olympics
But they, unknowlingly and most definetly
Cheered us up by sending us their own brand of Christmas Joy


We look forward to hearing from them
The Old Pratts, New Pratts, Ex-Pratts, OzPratts next Christmas.
Maybe they'll change their name again.
But there's five of them so that's a lot of paperwork.
Bank statements, school records, mortgage titles.
All of that to change.
Plus telling all your friends...
"Oh we are no longer Pratts."
I never thought of them as "pratts"
Until they changed their last name.
I wonder if they'll be out of hospital by next year.
Who knows
Maybe they'll all die.
Oh I can't end on such a dark note...
Maybe they'll all join a health club.
Hmm...not as entertaining.
Basically, of course...I/we wish them all well
And hope they don't have another year of hell,
But if they do, please tell.

And to think
They have all these accidents and illnesses
Without even leaving their own town.
Mavis hadn't recovered from her minor surgery
So she was feeling unable to look after her cat
Which is blind in one eye and has stiffness in her hind legs.
The stiffness is from being pinned under a shopping trolley
Many years ago....a freak accident which left her much less docile.
Dossy was her name as she really was so docile...from birth.
However, Mavis passed Dossy onto Matilda, her neighbour
who one day, fed dossy, the rat control pellets instead of Friskies.
And now....Mavis has dislocated her back
making a pilgrimage from her house
to the cemetary which is half a mile.
However, carrying a tombstone and a dead cat...(the cat coffin was ornate and must have weighed itself over 8 pounds), a half a mile is a long way.

I Believe in Facebook

I believe in Facebook.
I believe in having friends that you don't know
Who don't know you
They may or may not have real friends.
But real friends take so much time
And I'm so busy
with collecting pictures of people
who look cool
That I don't have time anymore
For my real friends.

Lila at Hootananny's

Hello.
I'm Lila The Ex-Pat Polish Princess.
You can also call me Princess Lila or just
My Princess.
However, as we are not that intimitate....
yet, Princess Lila is probably the more
Attractive option for now.
You...You are all drinking beer out of large glasses.
But where am I? Usually, I am surrounded
By long flutes of champagne or at least
goblets of wine.
A tip...
If you are so lucky to be invited to my
Impossibly beautiful and stately home,
Off Wood Green High Road
Peppoli 97... (Novanta sette) an Italian Chianti would be one of
a the many tokens of appreciation
I would appreciate from you for
my warm and most charming hospitality.
Also some trinkets.
This man...over there.
He has been fondling his packet of cigarettes all night.
You would think he could atleast do it under the table.
I suppose he does not have a girlfriend.
Or his girlfriend is so hot
That he has to fondle something when she is not there.
I must warn him, that is now public knowledge
That you can not smoke in a bar like this
Or a bar that is not like this...
Any bar in fact.
Quite similar to being married isn't it.
You can only smoke at home.
I risk the possibility of our future friendship
Being completely erased and destroyed
If he lights up.
As I will tell the management right away.

True as Fact

Mike: "My son lives in a church....land he's the mayor of the town. I live in a store, and my son, Andy, lives in a chicken coop. Joseph is the only one who owns a real house....and I'm a builder, so what went wrong?"

Andy: Hey. It's alright Dad. Who's complainin'? Out here, we use chickens for currency....which makes me ...the banker.

Mike: That's a good spin to put on it son. True as facts are. Now, I'll be tellin' people my son's a banker. If that ain't a step up, I don't have a ladder.

Andy: Rightly so... as you should. My nest is feathered. I'm even sellin' the eggs.

Mike: Well why don't we make it a family business and you can sell your eggs right here in the store?

Andy: Great idea Dad, but all my customers are local. That would confuse them. They buy the chickens and the eggs at the same time.

Mike: But wait a minute. I thought you said you got paid in chickens.

Andy: Oh no. That's chicken shit.

Mike: Never knew bankers to be honest.

wish number ten

I think it's wish 10 that I have to move up a few notches. Let's put it in position eight for now, as I can go a few more months with the strange knocking downstairs--maybe I will develop some cello and piano to go with it. But it is a classical beat or more rock? I think more rock.....70's. sometimes sounding like fake DIY and at other times, sounding like a woman in a one bed band....Let's see....I'll start in the kitchen, bang on the door and ceiling alternating between the two, then I'll go in the hallway, open the airing cupboard and bang a few lines on the water heater, in the bedroom...knock knock knock with the soft end of the broom so that it's a quiet sweepy noise-almost pleasant. And if she doesn't knock back, I'll just keep knocking until she calls the noise patrol. Perhaps I should ring her and give her their number.