Featured: Richard T. Boehmcke
Photo: Megan ___ Grebitus
Monday, January 25, 2010
10 New Band Names
Cholesterol Is Off The Hook
A Bedtime Purchase
We Do Not Throw Corn
Kung Pao Disaster
Platter of Homosexuality
Spank the Genius
Get Up for Frocks
Soup Fight
Thoughts of Bar-B-Q
A Very Jewish Appendage
A Bedtime Purchase
We Do Not Throw Corn
Kung Pao Disaster
Platter of Homosexuality
Spank the Genius
Get Up for Frocks
Soup Fight
Thoughts of Bar-B-Q
A Very Jewish Appendage
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
My Thoughts on Wine
I like to drink wine out of a water glass. Not a wine glass. Who do you think you are, wine, that you must be elevated so high above the table in your receptacle? Are you better than me? Are you better than your other beverage friends? Beer has no problem standing on the table. Liqour either. Well, MOST liquor anyway. (I'm looking at you Martini and Cosmo) Why must you be so elitist? Come down to the table and hang out with your friends. I promise we will have a good time. I like a grounded wine, or one that doesn't mind having its feet on the ground. I promise I wil like you.
-RTB
-RTB
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The Sweater
"It's cold" she said. He turned to look at her and his eyes drifted to her goosebumpy arms.
He looked her in the eye, "Do you want my sweater?"
She barely turned to him before deadpanning, "But you don't have a sweater."
He turned away to look back at the bridge. "Yea... I think I was using sweater as a metaphor for love in that scenario."
She shifted her weight before tucking her hands into her pockets, keeping her elbows close to her body. She turned back toward the bridge. "That might be nice."
He pocketed his hands in the same way. "Yea?" he asked the bridge.
There was a pause.
"Yea." And she leaned ever so slightly closer to him.
-RTB
He looked her in the eye, "Do you want my sweater?"
She barely turned to him before deadpanning, "But you don't have a sweater."
He turned away to look back at the bridge. "Yea... I think I was using sweater as a metaphor for love in that scenario."
She shifted her weight before tucking her hands into her pockets, keeping her elbows close to her body. She turned back toward the bridge. "That might be nice."
He pocketed his hands in the same way. "Yea?" he asked the bridge.
There was a pause.
"Yea." And she leaned ever so slightly closer to him.
-RTB
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Crap
Climb out of your own poems
The Spanish conquerer said to me
Engulfed in flames and eating a green banana
He spoke in tongues
He must have
I understood him
Though I didn't comprehend him
I under listened
So I really did under-stand him
A tiny mandolin playing potato bug stopped walking across my living room and looked up at me
SHUT UP YOU NARCISSTIC BOOB
What?
A potato bug is yelling at me?
And just like that a polish fortune teller burst in through my apartment
This poem blows he said
And I went to bed
-RTB
The Spanish conquerer said to me
Engulfed in flames and eating a green banana
He spoke in tongues
He must have
I understood him
Though I didn't comprehend him
I under listened
So I really did under-stand him
A tiny mandolin playing potato bug stopped walking across my living room and looked up at me
SHUT UP YOU NARCISSTIC BOOB
What?
A potato bug is yelling at me?
And just like that a polish fortune teller burst in through my apartment
This poem blows he said
And I went to bed
-RTB
Friday, January 1, 2010
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