Is Becks the official "Ask the Mineshaft" Person? I ask, because I have a personal bleg. My question is Boston specific, but I think it speaks to a larger problem with big-box stores. When Home Depot doesn't have what you want, where can you go?
Where can you get help with paint or find more interesting mouldings/trim?
Ogged, I like it when you're so transparent.
There was a young man from Iraq
With a hairy great scar on his sack
When he swam on his front
It looked like a cunt
Or an arse, if he swam on his back.
ogged is going to be pissed to be called an Iraqi.
Your day job is secure, one hopes?
5/6: better this then:
there once was a mexican lad
with a gairy great scar on his 'nads
...
There was a young swimmer who pined
For the ladies at swimming, so fine
But when talking, he choked
Not e'en his breaststroke
Could induce the young lifeguard to dine
10: or
There once was a Persian named ogged
Who could float on his back like a log
But his efforts to woo
With a breaststroke or two
Left him pining, alone, with his blog.
What? No "fuck you, Clown" incorporated into a swimming poem?
There once was a lifeguard quite young
From whom ogged sought a lunchtime of fun
She said yes right away
But then to ogged's dismay
Upon meeting, replied, "oops, wrong one."
You people just can't let go of the past, can you?
15: not when it's fun like that. don't be ridiculous.
12 is correct.
What am I, when strangers sing back,
'Nice and long?' -- 'Fuck you, clowns.'
#11 is current. Do you want me to update mine?
Comments on these sorts of posts only encourage him to post more of them. Econ 101 isn't always wrong.
He swam by himself every day
Yearning for someone to say
Nice and long, I like that
Where have you been at?
Your breaststroke and you should come play.
Engineers write such wonderful poetry. Especially when they've been to law school.
what? you thought you wouldn't have to suffer for your art, ogged?
True enough, true enough. Let history be my judge.
Nobody understands him as well
As his mother who thinks he is swell
He just wants some romance
Without taking a chance
Now he wish Unfogged he did not tell
Ogged went on his blog and he whined:
Your limericks are cruel and unkind.
I'm so misunderstood.
Sure, I'm sporting big wood
But I want to be loved for my mind."
21: 'Your breaststroke and you should come play.' s/b 'And he never let on he was gay.'
Sestinas may break my bones, but limericks will never hurt me.
It isn't the limericks that hurt
It's the fact that the girls never flirt
When I swim at the pool
They just think I'm a tool
Or maybe some aged pervert.
Who knew Megan had so much poetry in her soul?
Though it can't possibly do any good
And he knew there's no chance that it would
Said our hero named ogged
In a post at unfogged
Oh why am I misunderstood?
like beauty that cloaks
What in those eyes it defines?
This makes no sense.
All bow down to Megan. 31 wins.
There isnt a Fuck you, Clown, but it is still excellent.
I don't really have poetry in my soul. But I have a deep and fervent need for trashtalking. It'll find any outlet, I guess.
26: I never knew "Unfogged" was accented on the third syllable.
The Ogged
swims
without fins.
Of the slim tanned lifeguard-girls, one stands
her golden hand
opening and shutting itself like
an
injured fan.
The loogies that float at the side
of the pool, cannot hide
there for the submerged filters in the
pool,
silent as
glass, pull the spit with spotlight swiftness
into their crevices--
in they go, chlorine protecting
the
swimmer's health
-y body. The water splits, a wedge
of iron through the glass surface
of the pool; whereupon the free
style
swimmer, the
breast-stroking frog, the dolphin-kicking
butterfly, even
backstrokers, slide past each other.
All
external
scars of mortality show on their
defiant carcasses--
all the physical features of
ac-
cident--lack
of kidney, surgeon's grooves, dimpled ass
or hairy backs, these things
mar them; the athlete has cheated
death.
Repeated
evidence has proved that he can live
though he can not revive
his youth. He grows old in the pool.
Holy shit, 31 is just perfect. She keeps showing new skills.
You chicks have a lot of latent hostility, don't you? This is because I won't sleep with you, isn't it? You're all going to try to sex me up at the meetup, aren't you?
These are all amazing. I like 27, and 40, particularly.
Rewriting Marianne Moore is *hostile*? Jesus, and people think I'm high-maintenance.
I
Among twenty floating swimmers,
The only moving thing
Was the kick of the breaststroke.
II
I was of slow times,
Like a set
In which there are three breaststrokes.
III
The breastroke swirled in the waterway.
It was a small part of the fantasy.
IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a breaststroke
Are one.
V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of swim coaches
Or the beuaty of lifeguards,
The breaststroke kicking
Or just after.
VI
Kickboards filled the long course pool
With synthetic foam.
The wave form of the breaststroke
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the wave form
An indecipherable flirt.
VII
O thin man of Iran,
Why do you imagine online dates?
Do you not see how the breaststroke
Wraps around the minds
Of the women about you?
VIII
I know noble freestyle
And backstroke, and the butterfly rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the breaststroke is involved
In what I know.
IX
When the breaststroke swam out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many pools.
X
At the sight of breaststroke
Swum with a crawl kick
Even the fans of Kitajima
Would cry out sharply.
XI
He swam over the Pacific
Near a glass boat.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his butterfly
For breaststroke.
XII
The river is flooding.
The breaststroke must be tiring.
XIII
I was swimming all afternoon.
I was flirting
And I was going to flirt.
The breaststroke showed
Off my body's limbs.
The comma in the second sentence of 44 is unnecessary.
Ogged went to the meetup afraid
That this was the day he'd get laid
By Bitch P h. D
And little old me
And Unfogged would not come to his aid.
Unfogged threads swim
Late spring and oggeds lament
Oh fuck you, Clown
Complacencies of the clear CT, and late
Chlorine and snot in a sunny pool
And the blonde freedom of a lifeguard
Upon a high chair mingle to dissipate
The holy hush of an ancient sacrifice.
He dreams a little, and he feels the dark
Encroachment of that old catastrophe
As a calm darkens among water-lights.
The shapely breasts and bright, blue balls
Seem things in some procession of the dead,
Winding across wide water, without sound.
The blog is like wide water, without sound.
Stilled for the passing of his hopes of love
Over the seas, to silent Persia
Dominion of the maternal matchmaker.
You people suck. I read Moore and then 40 to PK, and he said "that's kind of like copying the other poem, only funny. and about a pool."
Maybe we should take a collection and hire Ogged a high-quality, blonde, voluntary, untrafficked sex object for the meetup. Working her way through law school, for example.
Your scansion's more than a little shaky, ogged.
I didn't try to make it scan, my hidebound young friend.
54: The sucking is unrelated. B just has to periodically insult us, otherwise she just doesn't feel right.
Nonsense. A six-year old appreciates literary wit more than all you brainiacs.
On the other hand, you all probably DON'T YELL IF SOMEONE TRIES TO HELP YOU WASH YOUR HAIR.
You're probably gouging his scalp with your bitch fingernails. My sainted mom did that too. It took decades for me to heal.
I am not. I'm just trying to make sure he washes the top of his fucking head and rinses all the damn shampoo out.
Most of us don't have hair on our fucking head, especially at 6. Maybe that's the problem?
You don't really expect sympathy for the hassle of dealing with your gay hippie child's butt-length hair, do you?
Don't lie, B. Now he'll never trust you again. You might as well just get him his own personal full-time therapist right now. Shouldn't cost you more than fifty thou a year if you shop around.
60. Wait, I thought it was fun. You're saying you needed a cookie?
And I'm bringing PK to the meetup and sic him on Ogged.
67: They don't have hair on their fucking heads either. A lot of them don't even have hair on the heads on top of their necks.
Maybe I never healed. maybe that's why I'm the way I am. I bet McManu's Mom was a gouger too.
Most problems are caused by bad moms.
My mom was a good mom, but you know, she gouged my scalp.
Ogged the Persian, a year single,
Forgot the appeal of lifeguards, and Swedes
And neglected to floss.
A well-publicised tumor
Ravaged his discarded kidney. As he rose and fell
He passes the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
Gentile or Jew
O you who turn the wheel and hit "Refresh",
Consider Ogged, who was once handsome and tall as you.
Or maybe some aged pervert.
Ogged really ought to bear Megan's child.
I was going to mention how much I liked 40, but this made it just about impossible.
Ogged dreams of Swedish girls who teach breaststrokes,
Whatever those are,
As a tutor teaches them how to execute
Sixteen swimming positions in the pool;
This makes him join the swim club,
Jive at the Mineshaft, flirt, and
On Thursdays comment about girly triceps
At 6am.
Such uncorrected visions end in jokes,
Or stories,
Told on blogs by old-timers to recent
N00bs; his distant mum; having to scheme
With money; email; age. So ultimate
Fruit baskets are bestowed, when old Ogged sits and dreams
Of naked Swedish girls who teach breaststrokes,
Whatever those are.