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Showing posts from July, 2008

A sensual journey into a black heart...

Suckers! I said I would only write one poem, but I've decided to add a second. Go ahead, call me a liar. Go ahead. It will make us all feel better... Okay, now that you have, I decided to write a second one because the fan base asked for it (One guy kind of shrugged and said, "I kind of liked it.") This will be the last one, at least for awhile. I was going to write a blog about how useless I think Perez Hilton and Kathy Griffin are, but that would be a waste of breath. So, without further ado...

A PURE DELIGHT

A smoke filled bar
one of a dying breed
the bar, not me
I'm just a poor man looking...
for his next dollar.
Is it here or a far away place?
Who knows, but the booze is good.
The people around me all have something to say.
I do too, but am silent.
Am I afraid?
Maybe I'm too smart
their talk bores me.
I sit here to write
and can only stare at the beer.
The tunes are good,
my mind at ease
The pen is ready,
the paper clean...
Is that Summer Sanders on t…

Poetry? Say it ain't so...

Okay, this is a one time only event, but I wanted to post something today. I had no ideas (because last night was TOO long, at least on a level of beer drinking fun) and I really didn't want to do much thinking today. I'm all thought out... Does that make sense? Probably not, but it's my blog. Plus, the Red Sox are losing to the Yankees. I wrote this about a year ago, so forgive me if you please...

THE EIGHTH DAY

Rainy Day Mondays Don't Bring Me Down
It's Tuesdays thru Sundays that hurt.
Mondays bring the fresh start
then the down slide follows.
Maybe God should have created an eighth day.
You know, to relax
and drink some wine.
Not that there's not enough time already.
There's always time for that.
On the eighth day,
I could enjoy life.
Maybe.
Or it could just be another day.
To revel in,
and cherish
the plight of existence.
Or the fact it's been 30 minutes
and the bartender has forgotten
about the man writing in the corner.

JRH

The Dog Days of Summer....

As I stood in front of the mirror the other night, I noticed a few things. One, I am really white. Save for my left arm, which is really tan, I was one pale guy. Then, upon a closer look with a side view, I noticed my stomach was starting to get out there. Nothing drastic, mind you, but enough of a difference to notice. It dawned on me that after nearly 30 years I was in the beginning stages of growing the world renowned Haskins' gut. This is nothing to be ashamed of, mind you, but something exercise had kept me from getting all of these years. On top of that, my love handles had expanded and were more flabby than ever. What had I done!

"This had to stop," I furiously thought to myself. I took it upon myself to change this. Here are five things that I needed to do.

1.) Exercise more.
2.) Stop eating Jack in the Box at three or four in the morning.
3.) Cut back on the beer.
4.) Stop eating Tony's Pizzas all the time.
5.) Fake tanning

With those five th…

Life without television...

It's been a week without watching tv now. Now why, you may ask, have I not watched tv? It's simple, really. I came home last Sunday to find my T.V., PS2, and DVD player not working. I fiddled around with the outlet and that worked. Next was the power strip and there l found the problem. So, partially out of laziness, the television has not been on for the past week. (Sorry Denise Richards and Kathy Griffith, I will not have my brain cells killed by you anymore). Sure, I have a power strip less than ten feet away that DOES work, but why go go through all the trouble.

Why am I writing this, you may ask? Well, it's not to start a turn off the tv revolution. I could not do such a thing. I've learned a lot this week. In honor of David Letterman, I will list ten things I've learned by not watching television this week. (In no particular order.)

1.) The dreams about Denise Richards have stopped. No, not those kind of dreams. The dreams where I'm forced t…

Saved by the Bell: Anatomy of a relationship

Long before Dylan, Brenda, and Kelly fought at the Peach Pit, Dawson, Pacey, and Joey argued at the creek, and Buffy, Angel, and Spike knocked each other senseless, the teenage relationship anatomy began at a tiny little diner called The Max. That's right, it wasn't Kevin Williamson that started the bizarre, communal relationships that took place on tv. It was one man with a dream to make Saturday mornings wholesome again. High School was a scary place to begin with, but the people at NBC gave us something to root for again. That is, until you're older, and realize what a sex craved world these six teenagers lived in every Saturday morning.

Let's start with Zack Morris, lead singer of the Zack Attack and one of the coolest guys Saturday morning has ever seen. It started out simple, with a crush on Kelly. The boy could not get enough of these teen volleyball player. Sure, he dated off and on, experiencing the field, but when he finally won Kelly, it seemed things …

It really is complicated...

It's hot out.

I just got back from Montana. It was hot there, too, and there were plenty of mosquitoes.

That's not why I'm here today. Today, I want to talk about something that is dear to millions of American's hearts. That, my friends, is the hit new show on E! that goes by the name of It's Complicated. (Or something like that. I don't really watch the show, I've perused it a few times.) Let me tell you, this show is changing the lives of everyone who watches it.

The show "stars" Denise Richards. Each week (and numerous times throughout the week), the show follows the exploits of Richards and her family and friends. No, Charlie Sheen is not involved. Although maybe he can make a guest appearance in a special Courtroom Christmas episode. That may be thinking too far ahead, so let's concentrate on the present. In a way, this show is no different than any other reality tv show. Except one thing: It is not good. I'd rather watch T…