Once more we repeat: This a work of FICTION. Well, mostley.
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Yes, Haikus. Those irresistably easy and fun to write Japanese poems you studied in elementery school consisting of 17 syllables broken up into three lines of five, then seven and then five syllables. Where there is no punctuation. And it allways has to be five-seven-five. Kind of like this:
And also:cutting edge for
the 21st century
cyberblop dot come-com experts rule
the info-superhighway
cyberblop dot com
Those are 2 of the entries that won. One of the rules is you have to use:
'cyberblop-dot-com' as either the first line or the last line.
Haikus for Godsake. Can you beleive it? Dumbass Mr. Bouvard never even heard of haikus before he read abbout them a few weeks ago in the in-flight airline magazine. Sureley this Haiku contest will dramattically improve morale.
By the time Bouvard zipped up the wator in the sink was already running for him. I bet if he woud of asked Peaches to "tap" him after whizzing he woud of done it too.
Other cruel names for my job, (that people call us behind our back), is "Drone" and "Droid" and even "Oompah Loompah." In any case, it is the lowest levol in the whole danm place.
The guy calling is a wiseass high paid Washington D.C. lawyor. He was calling me from his cellphone.
"I am in my car going down Connetticut Avenue," he says, like I am suposed to be so impressed by this I shoud blow smoke up his ass in admiration, "And I just want you to know, Mr. Miller that I expect your cooporation in this upcoming lawsuit."
The lawyor also wanted to officially warn us that Uncle Zeke and Uncle William were both on their way to Texas and shoud be there in a day or two to pick up some of the items they feel that Granfather owes them.
The lawyor says he expects ME to comply with everything, to aid my two uncles's claim agianst Granfather, and not to hide any of the old basterd's colectible stuff, othorwise he will see that I get sued by my Uncles as well. And also charged with Obstruction of Justice. And have my ass throwed in jail so fast, (in his words), that I wont have time to even fart for Godsake as the big steel doors of Justice slam shut on my sad face. Plus he will make sure for a cellmate I have some big mean burly drug dealor with a life sentence who dosent speak English who is very often overly freindly in the wrong way and makes me wash his socks and undorwear and call him "Mommie."
This is why i do not like lawyors.
Actualy, she was only half right. I was just tryin to avoid the relatonship.
On the way home from work I stop in the Mini Mart to buy some gas. Who do i see there but the County Clerk. Oh, crap. The county Clerk as you know is Granfathers sworned enemy. In my last update Granfather had caused extreme enbarassment to the poor man by publicly announcing that both he and the County Clerk were once rommantically involved.
None of this was ever true. Granps said it only to houmiliate the County Clerk in front of his new ladyfriend. It is a small town and this sort of thing gets around.
The county Clerk always flies off the handle, and I am sort of used to it. But this time he was extra pissed. I went inside the Mini Mart to buy some gum. My friend Cathyann was in there.
As you know Cathyann is a freind of mine. It was a hot day and she was quite sweaty. She usualy wears a fabric tube top in the heat and she was glistenly all over. To put it in a politically corect way she is a Womon of Size and she came ovor and embraced me and gave me a big wet sweaty salty kiss and said, "Howya doin, Walt?"
Cathyann has this loud, raspy deep sort of barky seal voice. Whenevor she is in a room shes the centor of atention cause she talks loud and laughs allot.
Today she was very loud. Also very flushed and red. I think she had a coupel of beers. When she gave me the kiss she leaned ovor and pinched my ass. Me and her dated once or twice but now we are only freinds: She is NOT my girlfriend. Okay, I admit it. Somtimes we hang out and end up making out in her car or mine. It is because she is pushy and I am weak and lonesome. I admit it. Its disgousting.
So we talked for a few minuts and finaly she said, "So Walt, are they hiring down thar whar you work?"
I told her no. Cathyann told me she was out of work. This I alredy knew. She and her mother both worked as checkout ladies in a supermarkat in the next county. One scandolous morning, Cathyann got sick on the checkout conveyor. Partly on the conveyor itself, and the rest on some poor lady's grocries. She was asked to leave and not come back.
Lator on guy who cleaned the conveyor acidentaly turned it on before it was totaly cleaned off and the parts that didnt hit the poor lady's groceries after Cathyann got initially sick slopped ovor into the conveyor machinery and the manager came out and fired him too. It was big news in both counties when it hapened and so I hear, that aisle still smells a little.
"It werent from drinkin, it were heat stroke," Cathyann said in a husky, strident tone.
"And Momma resigned in protest. You wanna know whut we both thought next? We're both thinking of gittin on the Internet gravy train....BWUH-HUH-HUUH!", she barked in her loud hoarse laugh.
In fact Cathyann is not computor savvy at all and recently got only upgraded to a 486.
"Ain't no one kin tell me I cain't DO this crap, Walt," she said, swaggoring a little on one hip, "I done BEEN on AOL a golldang whole TWO MONTHS already."