More from Rupert King. And by "Rupert King" I mean me, since I am also Rupert King.
Lettuce
by Rupert King - Aug 27, 2010
When she went to the store, we hoped Mom would get us
Bags and bags full of huge heads of lettuce
So leafy and green, not wilted and brown
From the produce store on the south side of town
Farmer Ted runs the place, and he plants the seeds
He gives my Mom just the thing that she needs
Ted's wholesale price, not the one on the tag
He gladly gives Mom when she opens her bag
It's lettuce we crave, and it's all that we eat
Covered in mayo, with a side of pig's feet
Or fried up in Crisco, made so lovingly crisp
Maybe made into wraps, rolled as thin as a wisp
Dessert not forgotten, it's a sight for sore eyes
Mixed with sugar and eggs, then baked into pies
Lettuce is a staple, makes our diets complete
Much more tasty than barley, or rice, or wheat
Leaves of the green stuff we keep in our lunch
We chew it, and chaw it, and greedily munch
And no Oreo cookies, like those of our ilk
It's lettuce we dunk and dip in our milk
Later at the table in our home so humble
In circular silence, with not even a mumble
Mom serves up our dinner in her usual fashion
A leafy green casserole of lettuce-filled passion
She says "Let's now be thankful for what we receive.
This feast made by God, and you'd better believe.
You have a wonderful meal at the end of each day.
So heads down, my children...and now lettuce pray."
Friday, August 27, 2010
Poetry Corner.
This is a poem I just wrote under my pen name Rupert King. It's for those who are interested in the arts.
"Entirely Coincidental Allegorical Poem No. 1"
by Rupert King - Aug. 27, 2010
On a November day, a few years ago
A stranger got off at our town's train depot
A fedora hat on his head, his suitcase in hand
He'd decided to make a stop in our land
Now, some folks said he was from a faraway place
Where all of the females wear veils on their face
"Nonsense", he said, "I'm from a tropical valley."
"Who wants to buy from Barney O'Malley?"
He was tall and thin and his smile shone bright
He was witty and charming and in his eye gleamed a light
That made everyone believe that this was the man
The one that would bring hope and change to our land
Now, times had been hard, the job front depressed
The stores were all closing and the people were stressed
But this man said he would fix all our woes
He'd bring back our jobs and we'd all have new clothes
The answer, he claimed, was simple enough:
"In this case I have the cure for all of that stuff."
It was a colorful case, and it seemed to be packed
With the missing things that all our lives lacked
But Barney was sly, and kept the case locked away
He'd give us the contents, if only we'd pay
Such a beautiful case, filled with ideas so bold,
Barney told us the contents were well worth our gold
"No price is too large, a case filled to the seams,
With bright hopes, and promises, and wonderful dreams."
So we believed what he said, he seemed so honest and frank
Soon we'd be out of our mess and we'd have him to thank
We sold all our treasures and gathered our sum
To buy the suitcase from our favorite new chum
And we met at the tracks at the noon bell chime
To give Barney O'Malley our very last dime
He gave us the case, without hesitation
And said, "So long suckers, I'm now on vacation!"
He jumped on the train as it pulled away
And we looked at the case in the dirt where it lay
The latches and switches we clicked without thought
We were desperate to see just what we had bought
The case lid was opened, its contents inspected
And we found a lot less than what we had expected
We gave Barney O'Malley the last cent in our bank
For a stack of old papers, and most pages were blank
There was nothing of value, and we all felt like dopes
But that's what blank pages are, a place to put hopes
He hadn't lied to us, he'd put it quite clearly
He offered us nothing, and for that we paid dearly
He painted a picture, his voice made our hearts stir
And we bought every word, like the suckers we were
So now we have nothing left, except this advice:
False hope costs nothing, and is well worth the price
"Entirely Coincidental Allegorical Poem No. 1"
by Rupert King - Aug. 27, 2010
On a November day, a few years ago
A stranger got off at our town's train depot
A fedora hat on his head, his suitcase in hand
He'd decided to make a stop in our land
Now, some folks said he was from a faraway place
Where all of the females wear veils on their face
"Nonsense", he said, "I'm from a tropical valley."
"Who wants to buy from Barney O'Malley?"
He was tall and thin and his smile shone bright
He was witty and charming and in his eye gleamed a light
That made everyone believe that this was the man
The one that would bring hope and change to our land
Now, times had been hard, the job front depressed
The stores were all closing and the people were stressed
But this man said he would fix all our woes
He'd bring back our jobs and we'd all have new clothes
The answer, he claimed, was simple enough:
"In this case I have the cure for all of that stuff."
It was a colorful case, and it seemed to be packed
With the missing things that all our lives lacked
But Barney was sly, and kept the case locked away
He'd give us the contents, if only we'd pay
Such a beautiful case, filled with ideas so bold,
Barney told us the contents were well worth our gold
"No price is too large, a case filled to the seams,
With bright hopes, and promises, and wonderful dreams."
So we believed what he said, he seemed so honest and frank
Soon we'd be out of our mess and we'd have him to thank
We sold all our treasures and gathered our sum
To buy the suitcase from our favorite new chum
And we met at the tracks at the noon bell chime
To give Barney O'Malley our very last dime
He gave us the case, without hesitation
And said, "So long suckers, I'm now on vacation!"
He jumped on the train as it pulled away
And we looked at the case in the dirt where it lay
The latches and switches we clicked without thought
We were desperate to see just what we had bought
The case lid was opened, its contents inspected
And we found a lot less than what we had expected
We gave Barney O'Malley the last cent in our bank
For a stack of old papers, and most pages were blank
There was nothing of value, and we all felt like dopes
But that's what blank pages are, a place to put hopes
He hadn't lied to us, he'd put it quite clearly
He offered us nothing, and for that we paid dearly
He painted a picture, his voice made our hearts stir
And we bought every word, like the suckers we were
So now we have nothing left, except this advice:
False hope costs nothing, and is well worth the price
Friday, February 22, 2008
Nit-Picking the Zombie Apocalypse
So, there was this movie, Night of the Comet, in 1984 or so.
Decent flick about a couple of teen sisters who appear to be the only survivors after a comet turns most of the population of planet Earth to dust. I liked the film. In fact, I probably watched it 30 times...but I haven't seen it again for a long time, to be honest. Years later, I have my misgivings about the whole thing.
I'm willing to accept that somehow both sisters lived...that Sam (the ultra-hot Kelli Maroney) spending the night in the utility shed kept her alive, and she didn't turn into a zombie from the radiation. Fair enough, I'm willing to go there. But the mystery "DMK", the person who frustrated Sam by making the high scores on the video game, also survives, and is a hunky teen boy Sam's age? And he has "DMK" vanity plates on the Mercedes he acquires after the zombie apocalypse? Hope I didn't ruin the surprise ending for you, but that was pretty much it.
I think it made me bitter that Sam was doomed to spend the rest of her life with what was essentially the last single guy on Earth, and she'd spend forever trying to beat this jerk at stupid video games instead of with me, since I was presumably also killed by the comet. It's not fair, dammit.
For me, the most illogical part of the film is what doesn't happen after everyone on Earth dies. The power stays on. The street lights still work. Radio stations still operate (though completely voice-tracked, making the film more relevant than ever).
But what about fast-food restaurants? In Los Angeles, even in 1984, there were 24-hour fast food joints. Stick with me on this. You'd assume that doomed restaurant employees were, at the very moment the comet turned everyone to dust, cooking and preparing food using grills, ovens, and deep fryers. These people vanished. The food did not. And with the power left on this food would burn, these fryers would overheat, and fires would start. With all firemen and police officers dead, these small fires would quickly get out of control. By the end of this film the entire city of Los Angeles should be in flames. It is not. There is nothing on fire, anywhere.
Except my burning lust for Kelli Maroney.
Look. I know it's just a movie. Maybe all these years later I'm just bitter about Sam's ultimately unsatisfying stripping sequence in the middle of the film. In an R-rated cut, it could have been so much better. Luckily (for me) she replicated the scene and got topless about a decade later in Scream Queens Hot Tub Party.
What? You think it wasn't all about the boobs for me? Haven't you been reading this blog?
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Not Quite Dead Yet
It's been a while since I updated the ol' website, so here's what's up. Since the last post (October 30?!?), I've moved my base of operations from frozen Minneapolis, Minnesota to much more reasonable Las Vegas, Nevada. I've also started a couple of other blogs that I update on a semi-frequent basis, and those are Dead Person of the Day and An Idiot's Adventures in Vegas. But don't get me wrong. This blog will continue as well as the seldom-updated video review blog Big Ass Movies. It's all a matter of finding a little more time to make it happen.
This blog will be re-branded (as they say) and the new (or rather, back to the old) focus will be my sad obsession and personal struggle with porn and boobs. It don't make me a bad person. Anyway, expect new material in the next few days.
This blog will be re-branded (as they say) and the new (or rather, back to the old) focus will be my sad obsession and personal struggle with porn and boobs. It don't make me a bad person. Anyway, expect new material in the next few days.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Crazy 'bout Tits
Seriously. You know when the last time was I saw this, or heard it, and how this song has been running through my head? Like, 23 years.
John Paragon (his real name) is best known as Jambi the Genie on Pee-Wee's Playhouse, but he is also a frequent collaborator with Cassandra "Elvira" Peterson, having written the films Elvira: Mistress of the Dark and Elvira's Haunted Hills. He's also an accomplished director, having helmed two films by the "Barbarian Brothers" (Peter and David Paul), Double Trouble and Twin Sitters. But mostly he likes tits. I'm right there with ya, brother.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)