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A Daily Observer in Bad Poetry

Humor in Daily Life, Politics and Sports

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Humor

The Killing of Major League Baseball

We are here to bury baseball not to praise it, the end came hard and fast.
It was determined the pace of play caused the game to breathe it’s last.
But the efforts to accelerate play wound up slowing the contest down
“Live in the moment, “ the sports psychologist say. “Unsnap your gloves and fiddle around.”
“Think about the pitch, achieve proper launch angle, swing through your predetermined zone”
And as strike three sails past you can blame the ump for calls blown.
Oops, time to change the pitcher, the starter has worked five innings and thrown eighty nine times
Sure he has a three hitter in play, but working the sixth would rank high in heinous crimes
Now we get that hallowed righty/lefty match up, much to the advertisers delight.
Two more pitching changes, twelve more commercials and this game goes to midnight.
Six more strikeouts, one home run and a bunt attempt call at first needs a review
Cut to the drug ad, beer ad and new car trash talk, and the fans are starting to boo.
The camera focuses on the backsides of three fat umps standing in a group
One has a head set, one stares at the booth and one looks into space like a nincompoop
The days of Sparky Anderson in a rage and Earl Weaver nose to nose are a youthful recollection
That game could hinge on the ump’s eyeball call and the ensuing fracas might lead to ejection
But now the headset ump removes his earphones signals the call as ordained by New York
Sure he doesn’t have to wipe tobacco juice off his face, but now a conformist dork
The announcers as if on cue, are quick to point out this is for the benefit of all involved
No emotion, no dirt kicking, no offering of eye glasses, just a shrug by managers, situation resolved
The broadcasters can go back to killing their listeners with needless pointless stats
“This player hits better after two strikes against Latino pitchers with runners on base using black bats”
Whatever happened to swing at strikes, put the ball in play and hit it where it’s pitched.
Sadly that idea went the way of affordable tickets, two dollar hot dogs and was ditched
The game is now a stream of steroid enriched behemoths hitting two thirty swinging for the fences
Hit a couple of long balls by the fourth before the parade of arm weary relievers commences
The thrill of the teacher rolling in the TV and watching the World Series is gone
It’s a shame the playoffs are played in arctic chill till the wee hours of the dawn
Staying up late now means playing endless rounds of Doom on your Play Station
No father son talk of stolen bases, moving the runner, or pitching rotation
So Baseball go ahead, sell a colorless diluted product while giving players million dollar deals
When no one is buying into this lame excuse of the Grand Ole Pastime, see how that feels

The Last Can of Green Beans

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It was the day before Thanksgiving and everyone was to gather at Granny’s
The kin folk would be elbow to elbow and packed in all the crannies
The banquet is a traditional pot luck buffet spread on a long oak sideboard
The plates and silverware are next to the crystal pitchers of drinks to be poured
The room would be sweltering as Grandpa would have a fire going and the yule logs ablaze
Everyone would be hugging, head rubbing and shedding the festive sweaters worn for the holidays
The work day had been hard, half the staff waited till after lunch then ducked out early
The phone had rung constantly, and the wait time for clients left them surly
But the long weekend was here with just one task that needs completing
My famous green bean casserole always received rave reviews by all who were eating
The recipe is from a soup can and not highly thought of in the world of cuisines
The process is is simple, a can of soup, french fried onions, a little milk and a can of green beans
The dish can be assembled now, baked in the morning and served for dinner
Carried in an insulated bag, the fifty mile trip means the food arrives hot and me a winner
Snapping on the light, opening the pantry with the neatly stacked cans and grasping at air
The realization of no green beans produced a startling scare
Last weeks guests had been served the last green beans covered with crisp bacon
But knowing the corner grocer would have a can left me unshaken
Back in barely creeping bumper to bumper holiday traffic left me muttering to myself
The ten minute trip lasted forty five only to find no green beans on the shelf
Also none at the bigger market four blocks farther, or the drug store, or the big box food mart
The fact I hadn’t checked my meager grocery inventory hadn’t been smart
Panic was setting in, the thought of a hot dish casserole had begun to dim
When Friendly Tom’s Gas and Go glowed in the headlights, perhaps pickings might not be so slim
Entering the store and glancing at the can goods, there it sat
In all its giant green glory and me grinning like a Cheshire cat
Triumphantly dropping the can on the check out counter and feeling good to be alive
Friendly Tom cocked his eye and casually stated, “fourteen ninety five.”
Sensing shock and anger, Tom calmly stated. “Take it or leave it.”
Instead of Black Friday, Tom has Price Gouge Wednesday for items hard to get
The ten minute trip had turned into a three hour ordeal with me getting fleeced
But I had my prized can and my specialty will arrive in time for the feast
Thanksgiving morning went well, the dish looked great and traffic a breeze until the detour
An RV rear ended a farm wagon, jackknifed blocking lanes and covering all with manure
Adding twenty miles and forty five minutes the short trip had become a speed limit run
Dashing up the steps,I hoped my disheveled look would be forgiven as the prodigal son
The family was holding dinner nodding sympathetically hoping my distress to console
As I placed my now cooled dish next to one over baked turkey and thirteen other green bean casseroles

Want Ad Translator

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It was Sunday, the paper’s heavy and the Classified section thick

Bills  are due, employment was needed and not a lot of room to cherry pick

Some new employment want ads might be a possible opportunity

A new posting even shows a job hiring in a nearby community

Closer inspection reveals the job description might need translation

Years of experience helped peruse the ads to avoid future frustration

Certain phrases hoist the red flags and should be discussed during the interview

Notices always promises stability, excellent conditions and part of a progressive crew

However what is written and real life might be the difference of night and day

A  quick look at some of the phrases might eliminate frustration and paycheck dismay

Fast Paced Environment: Meaning you’re in over your head from day one

As we have no training program you’ll work slavishly until deciding cut and run

Must be Flexible: We are short staffed, our place is a mess, you’d better be good with a broom

Oh and three days a week, be early as you’ll be mopping and scrubbing the restroom

Must be accurate: Pay attention to every detail, have positive attitude, and be highly organized

Our manager is a nit picker, tattles to the boss for minor infractions, so you will be scrutinized

Huge Opportunity for Growth: We’re broke and have only twenty four dollars in our bank account

An immediate need for you to land three huge clients within the week would be paramount

Must be a Team Player and able to Multitask: We are undisciplined and have no faith in our current staff

You’ll fill in when a deadbeat doesn’t show up, you’ll do his job and yours, but first you need a polygraph

Salary Commensurate with Experience: This phrase means we’re not planning on paying the new employee squat

You better be willing to work long hours for the minimum,  if expecting more wear clothes that make you look hot.

Years of want ad followup has led me to these conclusions, the job just might not be as the ad appears

So I’ll tell the unemployment lady I’m still out looking and have myself a few more beers.

                                                                                                                                

 

The Christmas Bonus

 

Continue reading “The Christmas Bonus”

Reality TV: Election Edition

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Through the last 60 years America has embraced some form of Reality Television

The public has become so blasé this form of entertainment played into this year’s decision

Let’s take a look at this concept and see how it may have applied from shows over the years

Perhaps future campaigns might eliminate debates and turn to programming as electioneers

CANDID CAMERA: Have a person sitting with kids holding pictures of candidates and Peppa Pig

The kids would all vote for Peppa if given the choice because the man was wearing a “cheap wig”

And they said the lady looked like Sally’s mean old Aunt who had recently departed

Then they all rolled about the floor and giggled uncontrollably because little Johnny farted

QUEEN FOR A DAY: Four women have to tell their tales of woe to the studio crowd

The winner is the hopeful who’s eruption on the Applause-O-Meter was the most loud

Hillary, Carly, Jill and Lynn all had a shot at their own brand of commiseration

Each story was accompanied by pleading gestures and anguished tears for voter consideration

Hillary was the clear audience choice winning in an outright landslide

Shady land deals, failed foreign policies, missing e-mails and may be criminally tried

She definitely seemed to surge to the lead while the other participants cried

The remaining women had grievous stories of struggles and suffering on their way to the top

But the Applause-O-Meter needle pegged as Hillary’s story was cream of the crop

THE DATING GAME: A comely miss would ask gentlemen questions to determine her date

The answer would aid the lass in determining with whom she could best relate

“Bachelor #1, If on a date you grabbed my genitals how should I respond?”

“You should feel honored,” answers #1 “As I am a big fish in a small pond.”

The young lady shocked by the last answer advised, “My next question is for Bachelor #3.’

“If you were a married President and I was your VP’s daughter, would you sleep with me?”

“Yes I would,” said #3. “And any woman that looked at me twice.”

“Just be in my vicinity and I would consider that an attempt to entice.”

COPS: We’re riding With Sergeant Ellison of the DC white collar crime division on patrol

He states, “Trying to bust the real bad frauds and cheats is our main goal.”

On for years“Bad Boys Bad Boys” the catchy theme for the program goes

Unfortunately for DC there’s not enough investigators to decide who to depose

SURVIVOR: This game pits contestants against each other under inhumane situations

The camera angles have to be precise as to not show today’s catering truck presentations

This current edition pits Clinton against Trump in mudslinging warfare

As it turns out, after a year and a half neither seemed the worse for wear

AMERICAN IDOL: Judges get to pick the contender singing the sweetest guarantee

Regrettably the judges deadlocked as both challengers were continuously off key

THE AMAZING RACE: This show pits two entrants competing  shouting catch phrases

With photo ops and angry speeches trying to win the Nation’s peoples’ praises

Each nominee schemed and then decided on a different path to win the race

The winner went out and beat the bushes, the loser didn’t leave her metropolitan built in fan base

AMERICA’S GOT TALENT: A timed event to amaze judges with their talent in nothing flat

Both candidates were gang buzzed inside ten seconds and we’ll leave it at that

THE APPRENTICE: The President Elect interviews potential Cabinet hopefuls he wants hired

Only this time serious damage might be done before he gets to say “You’re Fired.”

THE BIGGEST LOSER: Hopefully this show won’t turn out to be the American voters

As betting on a long shot is usually only championed by carnival snake oil promoters

The Other Parade

img_0882The people crammed the sidewalks early in the morning

They had dressed warmly heeding the freeze warning

Every exhale was seen forming a misty cloud

Partially due to cold, partially due to chili dogs sold to the crowd

Anticipation built as distant sirens and drum beats sounded

The buildings on each side of the street created a chamber as the wail resounded

The first high school band carrying a banner strutted into view

From Cedar Rapids they were making their network debut

Behind them were six cowboys on horses twirling ropes and waving to the masses

And hoping the noises from the backside of their animals were just gasses

Then came the first balloon, an updated version of last year’s Underdog

Modified to look like Trump with giant loud speakers, small hands, inane tweets and dialogue

The sound was very loud so no one would understand what was said

But yell loud enough and no one would know the balloon was in over its head

The red hatted parade employees worked hard to keep the figure from sending tweets not clever

As most of it’s tweets were caustic replies to critiques from its latest endeavor

Passing the stand where the Bushs’ sat he saw they had dropped trou and were shooting him the moon

Causing one nun, a red cross bell ringer and three brownie scouts to swoon

Behind the floating gas bag was a Stones cover band playing “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.”

How true that is but the Trumploon didn’t listen to lyrics and seemed nonchalant.

A couple of hyperbole throwing, high profile media seekers followed close behind

The first convertible had Rudy Guiliani, he was New York’s best mayor, he was quick to remind

He was early to the staging area as he only had to walk from his cot at Fox and Friends

He’s always on the show to advance his agenda and comment on current trends

The next was another large blimp, no wait it is a flat bed pulling Chris Christie

He’s waving to the crowd wearing that scowl that makes him look both angry and prissy.

The next zeppelin was a weird female figure doing a shoulder shimmy with a forced scripted cackle

Looking regal in her sequined pantsuit she kept yelling to the millions of illegals she would unshackle

Hilloon liked flying above the crowd, she couldn’t relate to commoners but could still yell “Unite”

But she couldn’t stop for a second as the somewhat wimpy FBI balloon might indict

Hoping cutsie catch phrases might hide the crimes she couldn’t overcome

As the figure hurried away, the crowd couldn’t decide if it was running for or from

Strangely it seemed that more people waved to the Hillary balloon than the one of Trump

But the Trumploon appealed to more states causing the Hilloon to look like a chump

This was followed by another Stones cover band playing “You Got The Silver I Got The Gold”

The Hilloon made a lot of money over the years but its downfall were the emails it tried to withhold

In a convertible behind were a group of obnoxious celebrity personalities

All pretentiously puffed up espousing their own brand of ill informed banality

Finally just before Santa Claus came the Bernie Sanders balloon giving away lots of free things

Free college, free housing and income into the crowd he flings with no attached strings

And sadly the young were screaming for more free stuff in order for them to succeed

The last band playing “Gimme Shelter” in keeping with songs from the Stones album Let It Bleed

As the last gas bag passed it became apparent, they were slowly deflating

A year and a half barrage of insults and finger pointing had become more than irritating

Finally just before the crowd dispersed came Santa drinking heavily from a flask filled with booze

With enough liquor calming himself from the noise of politically correct boos.

And urging on the tractor to speed up a bit while mushing his fake reindeer

He didn’t want the children to see the glistening tracks on his cheeks made by his tears

Gobbler Strike Force

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It was the Tuesday evening before Thanksgiving and the store lights went dark

“Time to move out if you’re with us,” said 24-6 the clans’ patriarch

“Our army has dwindled but our giblets still have heart.”

“We’ll fight till our red buttons pop. We can get her back if we do our part.”

“Sir,” little 10-4 piped up, “18-4 and 16-2 have both been taken.”

“Casualties of war sonny,” said 24-6. His nerves unshaken

Their plans drawn up, their objective for the raid was 19-6

The exquisite hen with large rounded breasts and to die for drumsticks

The information 10-4 had obtained late at night after the store had closed

Showed the address on the store rewards card could be approached unexposed

So the small band of raiders checked their gear and set about their mission

They had sliced off their plastic wrap and were ready to battle their opposition

Quietly they scuttled across the floor and through the receiving doors

Dashing past the parked trailers and rendezvoused by the grove of sycamores

The band of raiders raced on under the cover of lost and found camouflage

Dragging behind them meager supplies,  they took cover in the shrubs behind the garage

They had brought the store’s hand truck, a chain of plastic bags, and a box of dog bones

Standing on 24-6’s shoulders, 10-4 quickly cut the lines to the house telephones

“Quiet! Someone’s coming,” hissed 17-3. Covered with the camo the group fell silent

The family of the house passed. No invader moved as a clash to get violent

The people piled into the car and left for a Thanksgiving parade

The band thought the house empty and hadn’t figured on the live-in maid

The first bird crashed through the window holding dog treats and the plastic chain

Using the hand truck as a catapult, 24-6 was firing his squad inside, only he would remain

The chain uncoiling down the side of the house showed all were inside

“We’re trying to get her now,” whispered 17-3 prying the cooler doors not to be denied

The doors popped open and there she was in all her enticing beauty

“Come on, no time to explain,” as two others grabbed the bewildered cutie

Suddenly a high pitched growl and a burst of light illuminated the area

“What’s going on in here?” screeched the maid her voice tinged with hysteria

A dinky teacup Yorkie barked frantically at the nearest pale white invader

The maid fearing the worst, grabbed the nearest weapon, a rotary cheese grater.

Bitch slapping the yappy dog 17-3 hustled 19-6 back down the chain

To get her out now and leave no one behind was their goal to obtain

10-4 threw a large bowl of jellied cranberry sauce at the maid

Another raider slammed the box of bones over the dog’s head to stop the noisy tirade

With no casualties the band of of marauders slid down the chain and into the night

Stopping briefly to catch their breath before heading to the appointed spot to reunite

Ain’t never seen seen nothing like this, thought the overweight detective

It seems to steal a turkey was their only objective

The sauce spatter pattern indicates the sauce was thrown from this spot

And the berry stained catatonic maid couldn’t tell us squat

Still holding the grater she kept mumbling about little white ghosts

With the dog stuffed with bones this crime scene is difficult to diagnose

Shaking his head looking at the mutt lying in a pool of slippery red sauce

He eyed the chalk outline of where the maid had slipped, logic at a loss

Looking at the store receipt for a large 19 pound plus turkey

His thought process as to motive proved more than a little murky

Later with 19-6 standing wing in wing under the tall tree called Old Hickory

24-6 was heard to say, “ I love the smell of cranberries in the morning. It smells like victory.”

Chicago Sanitation: Only The Beautiful Need Apply

img_0827The casting call was on page eight of the entertainment section

Please submit a head shot and resume for inspection

An upstart company was trying to compete with television success

Another city based drama should be what the audience requests

So the casting would be done based on the customary blueprint

Get semi known people with varied levels of acting skills and make a mint

The script calls for team interactions while trying to keep out of each others’ way

But all the on camera regulars must be beautiful stated the interoffice communique

Local sanitation Teamsters 893 wouldn’t have anyone working not svelte and chiseled

People with substance abuse, relationship issues, poorly dressed may be old and grizzled

The cattle call was placed and went to all the unemployed actors

Current resumes, photos, and previous gigs were to be determining factors

The cast was to be assembled with a black candidate as the local team leader

Her job was to be tough yet empathetic and a bit of a mind reader

The powers that be are now happy as the cast will appear diversified

And that should keep the people that watch for those things mollified

You won’t see another black person unless in the background and barely on screen

The rest of the cast will be eight white guys, one Asian and one Hispanic ex marine.

Two women will also be included, one a blond and one of mixed descent

The personalities will evolve with one turning out to be a murderous malcontent

However each and everyone will be dazzling right down to their pearly whites

The men must look exceptional with their shirts off and the women in shorts and tights

One never knows when tossing a garbage container they would need to strike a pose

As many a lonely housewife or husband dreams of a sanitation worker with no clothes

The show is cast, many of the regulars straight from underwear ads

Mannequins that speak, in keeping with the network drama fads

Disasters, interoffice turmoil, and job setbacks will be thrust upon the crew

All will be resolved in 52 minutes unless there is to be a part two

The weekly dramas will continue in story lines continuously retold

A kidnapped asthmatic child locked in a dumpster and left in the cold

The drug deal drop point was a can emptied into the hero’s truck

The phone threats stating the drugs will be returned or a fan favorite is a dead duck

Of course the romantically involved regulars hilarious attempt at hiding their lust

When and where the first hookup took place is a bet by the team often discussed

Run the show as a summer replacement and notify the advertisers to buy commercial time

If it doesn’t hit right away throw in some nudity and watch the ratings climb

The crime, grime and raging libidos continue like clock work for sixteen weeks

Regardless of writing, subject matter and overall critiques

Television executives possess no imagination as shows aping shows continue forever

Copy the one show displaying some initiative, a new twist or something clever

Variety shows, westerns, detectives have all ruled the airwaves at one time or another

Flip the channel in any decade for six of one and a half dozen of the other

Currently good looking actors man every professional job under the sun

No one considered plain can ever carry a stethoscope or badge and gun

Someday the burned out public will have had enough and tune in NPR

Now that would be something unheard of and truly bizarre

Deplorables 1 Media 0

img_0860The polls opened at seven but the line had already formed

They were there to vote even though the press had called them uninformed

They came from the back woods, small neighborhoods and farms

They were the once proud working class, called deplorables now up in arms

They stood in the cold speaking in low voices

Probably wouldn’t have voted at all given the choices

These were the silent people ignored by the government

By the powerful elite claiming  behind closed doors they were transparent

They had been called racist, sexist, homophobic among other things

But to be looked down on by some soft pious ex first lady really stings

They were broken and bent from years of hard labor and military service

And the fact this person might step on their rights made them nervous

Some didn’t choose to join the military they went as they were drafted

Once discharged they went back to their jobs but VA healthcare left them shafted

They endured the hardships and the cold treatment they received

It seemed like a fixable problem but the wait time for doctoring went unrelieved

The military and home life had taught them with all people to coexist

But now they were called racist and that had them pissed

But they didn’t riot, interrupt traffic, or wear causes on their sleeves

People have a right to their opinion if in the Constitution one believes

This wasn’t a vote of a woman against a man

It was against four more years of a failed national plan

This was against a photo op person in a Cubs hat trying to look cool

When all knew she’d be hard pressed to explain the infield fly rule

She seemed ill at ease in any location surrounded by citizens

As some might not actually share her far left visions

Because these deplorables knew for sure there was no free lunch

So they came out on the cold morning to throw a desperate counter punch

They stood on crutches, in wheelchairs, and leaning on canes

To sign the forms or make their mark in spite of their pains

They couldn’t win, said the press. They didn’t have a chance.

We’ve got it in a walk, lets all prepare for our victory dance.

Somewhere birds are singing, somewhere children shout

But there is no joy in Washington as the mighty Media has struck out

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