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BY Davey H

06/01 Direct Link
Here it is – the first of June,
Davey's in biz and whistlin' a tune.
We begin this post with a paean to his host
the Boss-man who frequently worries the most
about such things as being on time
and order,
key rings
and sound levels sublime.
But Davey, frequently slightly contrary
says, “hey, this isn't a freekin' library!”

So let's start out with a hearty shout to the Boss-man for laying such a handy 'daily planner' on me! As perhaps you can see, 'planning' and 'daily' are not Davey H's forte, and to that we can also add 'consistent'. Nay!
06/02 Direct Link
Think, if you will
that your life is on loan.
Thus time that you kill
would not be your own.

So you are killing time?
Oh, yes – take a look:
you sad pantomime:
Pasted onto Facebook!

Are you feeding your mind?
What is inside your head?
Can you be unconfined
with the Internet dead?

This Davey H life
is a low-interest loan;
as if he's a knife
with a dull edge to hone
and the longer he lives
the less he will know.
Misdeeds he forgives;
let's get on with the show!

His loan in arrears
he's bored to tears.
06/03 Direct Link
Today saw a bevy of heartily laboring farmboys doing green deeds on that notorious Norway maple job. Davey headed the pack intermittently, not proclaiming to be the brains of such an operation.

The blue Ford tractor was the power-head which was tasked with pulling that decrepit 16 foot trailer to the site, and 'Rosebud', the yellow Ford 3 cylinder 4 wheel drive Cadillac of a loader was the main workhorse for purposes of collecting approximately two and a half cords of firewood.

Pictures were taken of the often haphazard-looking scene for the purposes of entertainment, not for submission to OSHA.
06/04 Direct Link
That tree job needed to be interjected into this ongoing discourse for a variety of reasons, namely as an airing of irascibly audacious working-class self-puffery.

But getting back to that paper planner – the likes of which is decidedly demode foreign material to most “smart” phone users – said planner had languished in Davey's on-site tool bucket for a couple of years, awaiting demotion of other such scratchpad books before being unceremoniously ushered forth to collect dust at Don't Laugh It's Paid For Farm's messy excuse for an office.

The move was welcome; as this book handily proved its pre-post scratchpad worth.
06/05 Direct Link
I just happened to glance clock-ward at precisely 11:11. Of course 'precisely' is a term ascribed loosely; in actuality it could have been, say 11:11:39, then immediately 11:11:40, and so on, as semiprecious seconds elapsed.

But colons seem better adapted when interspersed with WORDS, not numbers.

Looking at the bright side, this apostrophe-dressed o'clock thing – and its colon/numerical indicator bedfellows – speak volumes for the versatility of punctuational characters.

As far as the actual clock-related numbers go – within the confines of such revenant occurrences as 11:11 – numerologist cohorts would have fun with such things in a quest to glean hidden meaning.
06/06 Direct Link
Another fray,
another holler,
looks like today
I got that dollar.

And we can say
well, after all her
sun-scorch would splay
upon my collar.

Those folks turned out to be alright, although initially, doubts arose in this farmboy's mind regarding ultimate compatibility with such semi city dwellers.
Small yards, staring spectator neighbors.
Hmm, this would be a challenge!

One, two, three days on the job and things were okay.
Then, once the tractors showed up, everybody let out the dog and loosened up as all hands pitched in and happy sweat flowed.

Needless to say it was a blast.
06/07 Direct Link
Hot sun parched the farmboy’s pink schnozz
as he watched a gaggle of dirt-smudged white geese rummage by a lake of questionable water quality.

“Must be 10 of ‘em,” he said.

Then off to gnash on hot cuisine,
Mexican, that’s what I mean.
This boy’s a fan of Mexican food,
so bring on the habañeros, dude!

And that motel behind which the geese in paragraph #1 were foraging?

‘Twas a place to crash,
a serious DIVE,
we saved some cash;
‘twould keep us alive.
It wasn’t our fave
when we did arrive,
but sleep we’d crave
that drew a high-five!
06/08 Direct Link
Memories of that toss through blueberry country still percolate here today, and quite fondly, I must say.

We tooled past the torrid fields with glee
past bushes with yields far as eye could see.

But yet it prompted queasy queries as to what exactly happens in a mono-cropping situation like this when puerile pestiferous predilections prevail.
Not a soul in sight to ask tonight.

“¡Cuidado!”, “¡Peligro!”, of course the ubiquitous “Pesticidos” and maybe “No entre” signs might pepper any given place of azure agricultural purveyance, yielding self-explanatory sternly instructive text as to how catastrophes are, at least temporarily, staved off.
06/09 Direct Link
Better get busy
better yet green,
lapse into a work tizzy,
boy, you have windows to clean!
Those aforesaid windows of blown glass
are, shall we say, a big bite in the ass.

So it is work that can’t be faked,
nor should it be fudged;
with spider droppings
glass is caked
with birdie poop it’s smudged.

Davey cleaned those windows anyway
with squeegee, scrubby and vac;
not able to work by the light of day
nor able to put them back.

To Davey’s stunned surprise
‘twas good that he tried
for to the Boss-man’s wicked-keen eyes
he was satisfied.
06/10 Direct Link
COUNTRY HICKS

they’ll show you some quick and simple fixes
in this life so unforgiving;
then maybe you’ll see
being out in the sticks is
a life that is well worth living!

So blow past those tires and junk in the yard
for they’re only a few of these factors;
to pardon a blustery old canard:
this life is a CHALLENGE
but is not all that hard;
what good is a yard
without tractors?

Sometimes those feisty out-backers
will generate a whole bunch o’ racket;
whilst screeching their tires,
setting off firecrackers;
don’t complain if you just can’t hack it.
06/11 Direct Link

Alas, when the 3-day vacay we’d allotted
had inevitably gone bust
we returned slightly spurned
but not least besotted
and filled with a work-money-lust.

We pretended to be well-positioned
for a piece of the financial pie
lurking in the general populace
and ripe for plucking,
should we conjure the requisite wherewithal
to go after,
garner,
and hoard such spoils.

But this verse the chickens were clucking:

“the key to success should be,
well, I guess,
another one clasped on your ring;
so if you don’t believe it
and somewhere you leave it,
you may as well give it a fling.

06/12 Direct Link
A not-so-young couple from Jacksonville, Florida
and several other southern locales
decided to sign on for a stint
in a chilly northern location, guys and gals.

This would be an employment opportunity for both, though she got the plum job out of the deal with rent paid as part of the compensation package.

They rarely, if ever bitched or complained,
yet in a philosophically inclined
moment of true genuflection,
the gal might well have penned or orated the following stanzas:

“These winters so far
have been harsh and severe;
but they told us back then
long before we moved here.”
06/13 Direct Link
A lot of boxes by the door
don’t know what’s in them anymore.
We had this Boxer
then he left
of clutter he’d mutter
to be bereft.
So what did he do
as he sat on buttocks?
He stuffed our goo into a box.
And one more box
and then another
to outfox
our Nature mother.
And so it goes
when he was gone
boxes of clothes did linger on
to get in the way
and make us sick
but that’s okay
he was a NEATNIK.

Meanwhile, a large computer manufacturer has disingenuously offered “25 GB of free online storage”.
06/14 Direct Link
How DISTRACTED we are!
By boat, plane or car
whilst our elders by far
in nursing homes sit
with their doors so ajar
and the odor of sh**.

We prefer not to watch
hope for good ventilation
in our minds a splotch
where is our veneration?

Oh, wait – catch the news!
Hey, great – what’s the latest?
Not watching them snooze
their Generation the Greatest.

With spoon in left hand
then dentures in cup
we will soon understand
their time is near used up.

As surely time passes
we’ve rarely a clue
wake up, oh asses:
this will happen to you!
06/15 Direct Link
Shave, Gus – save all the fuss.
With electric you would rather;
and if whiskers pull, you’ll piss and cuss
but it’s too hectic to lather.

That of course was an imaginary admonition
given with force of good volition;
after all, Saul,
pullin’ whiskers is a bit like fishin’.
When you pull tight and get a bite,
for less pain you will be wishin’

Of Albert Einstein it was said
that how he liked to shave
now nearly six decades he’s been dead
his method still the rave:
razor and soap, so wicked simple;
watch it, dope, that’s a firkin’ pimple!
06/16 Direct Link

Happy Father’s Day –  and a sincere shout-out to all those Dads who have taken serious hits.
To them, we all should send sincere condolences!
As a glaring example: recall the fellow who accidentally backed the lawn tractor over his 4-year old son. Words could never describe the sorrow that must have resulted from that incident. The little guy had innocently toddled out to help Dad with the mowin’.

Our Dad bore the tragedy of his youngest son’s suicide 25 years hence.
Rather than dwell on our brother's sad decision, we continue to salute Dad AND Mom for all they did!

06/17 Direct Link

In a cup we may gather
rub-a-dub, give a squeeze,
but don't flub as you slather
those shaving suds, please!
Then, Bub, you can lather
with the best of these.

Just wondering what is so fascinating about this shaving thing. One fact pops resolutely into mind on the coattails of watching 10 year old 9/11 documentary trailers.

I be so bold: a close, clean shave is of UTMOST importance to this farmboy.
Watching footage of a bearded Osama Bin Laden makes me cringe. Look at that filthy RAT'S NEST on his chin! Don't wanna grow up to be like him!

06/18 Direct Link

This shall be the last whisker-based installment in Davey H's chronicled rantings. Says he:
“If I get so much as a hint of that itchy, dirt-catching, food-slopping, detestable fuzz,
I chop it off post haste, good taste
and that is just because.”
No such thing as 'whisker-lickin' good', hood.

Humphrey Bogart got away with wearing a '5 o'clock shadow.

Now  to other nonsense:

Okay, so I culled
3+ pages of silly-assed purple prose.
So what? Who reads?
Well, that's how it goes.
Now for more misdeeds
with words in neat rows
and it brings these screeds
to a memorable close!

06/19 Direct Link

THROWAY* TOUGH®

Throway TOUGH!
That badly needed to be said,
for those dumpster®-happy mavens stuff
us with a sense of dread.

Yes, we always need to worry 'oer
what those folks throw out
slovenly slackened slurry sore
they make me want to shout!

Yet they're being AMERICAN
as one can surely see;
That's what they are about, my friend:
Throway® society!

A salient point of reference:
over morning tea,
Davey H explains the intentional misspelling
of this post's title:

“It's a trademark characteristic
of that bunch over yonder;
like pig with lipstick,
it is a point to ponder.”

The Bend

06/20 Direct Link

“I'm 'Con-SWERVE-ative”,
the affable but quirky fellow declared
with his preoperative fangs bared.
Opining and whining,
on and on he thus blared
with interest declining,
his purview was shared.

In political matters
he claims he's well tutored,
yet with knowledge in tatters
in effect he'd been neutered,
and much more likely ensnared.

It conjured a vision, a good one, by far
of our deep rescission:
what a mixed bag we are!

The con-swerve-ative lurked
with his op-door ajar
as I sheepishly smirked
heading back to my car.
At him we'll scoff
feel like pissin' him off
grandiloquent mischief by far!

06/21 Direct Link


“Dogs make great alligator food”.
Thus said a sign
unseen by me
but seen by someone assuredly.

What sick mind made THAT one up?
It carries not a whit of humor.

Elsewhere – and an 'elsewhere' should ALWAYS exist when one's sensibilities are catapulted into the realms of piss-ful ignorance wrought by the violent and vulgar – good things happen and love reigns supreme.

Seashells, crushed to perfection, make great footpaths.
The shells protected creatures' soft inner workings for a short time, until their entrails were crushed between teeth already laden with gristle.

Oh, those folks were 'going Paleo', thus ostensibly healthy.

06/22 Direct Link

“Dayum!” That was about all Davey H could rasp after a serious bust-ass day of woodsplitting. Hells bells – if Nature apportions over 12 hours of serviceable daylight in any given 24 hours, you wisely partake, making maximum use of it. Thus, he was able to get a sh**-load of work completed before gnats set in just past dusk.

The portly acer saccharum log had been sitting for just over 3 years at this point, and was definitely punky at the ends where weather had penetrated.
But deep inside, as the culling progressed, dense hardwood, pink and viable, was in evidence.

06/23 Direct Link

Good morning, little chickadee;
we welcome your joyous call!
And it's nice to see
the likes of thee
flit in that tree so tall!
That song sounds to me like “victory”;
well, it seems that way, is all;
at least the “V” in Morse code, see?
So we’re glad you are having a ball!

Actually, you know that's
a paean to the fluttering bats
and catbirds, butterflies and bees
to them we tip our hats!

After scooping chicken turds
it's nice to see the hummingbirds
who swoop and zip from tree to shed
and siphon each blossom of bright red.

06/24 Direct Link

Quit Cheese?

Go on a dairy fast for three weeks.
Your taste buds will change. Of course you will still have a yen for creamy, greasy foods during that time, but plenty of plant-based alternatives are available.

This, to a near perennially cheese-addicted Davey H, sounded like his undoing in the works. What about that veggie lasagne served up piping hot down at that pasta joint? Oh, yeah, the food is fresh and perfect – just-a-like-a Mama used to make.

And then what about hot melted butter slathered on that stack 'o buckwheat hotcakes similarly drenched with grade B maple syrup?

06/25 Direct Link

The “Thrive” documentary looks VERY good, and incidentally is out on the Web as an mp4 download. It comes HIGHLY recommended.
Of course Davey H doesn't remember where he heard of it, but it could have been on the coattails of the new exposé entitled “BOUGHT”.

Filmmaker Jeff Hays has taken on such hot topics in the past, being unabashedly unafraid to do so.
So did he assist the Thrive Project?

Hays also oversaw the right-wing rebuttal to Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 451, dubiously dubbed “Fahrenhype 451”.

But I'll bet theatergoers weren't lined up around the block for that hate flick.

06/26 Direct Link

Those 'new' hens have been six weeks in a separate pen and coop from the eager rooster. This will soon change, along with the landscape.

Can anyone explain why hens make such good rototillers? Dad used to think hens destroyed any given patch of grass due to excess nitrogen in their droppings. It figures a chemist would think of sh** like that.
But the theory is indeed plausible, citing the fact that birds don't have separate urine and excrement; both join together when emitted.

As to the expunging of turf-grass, watch 'em sometime. They'll scratch the piss out of it.

06/27 Direct Link

In that economically depressed town we shall not name, a sign on one dilapidated building's door shilled for a “Family Fair!
Immediately, Sly's song came to the fore:

“It's A Family Affair”.
So what makes the difference?
In the former they dare;
in the latter, dissension or incest may blare.

Back to the downtown of this down-in-the-dumps town: What's better than a frivolity injection?

The sign continued: “Bouncy House & Dunk Tank! Live Music! Chinese Raffle! Kid's Games! Handmade Crafts, Old Cars and Motorcycles! 50/50 Raffle and over 50 Independent Vendors!”

Davey H waxed befuddled:
WTF is a 'Dunk Tank'?

06/28 Direct Link

Throw some peanuts to the squirrels.
Feed four cats: one male, three girls.
On both doors, some simple locks;
how we abhor that litter box!

In an old bathtub, five goldfish
rub-a-dub-dub, throw coins, make wish.
Those fish are the best of these
yet we puzzle 'oer how
back then, as now,
those fishies braved the freeze.

Whoops! As Davey writes these words
he still needs to feed the birds
and wants them well because he cares
oh, what the hell – never mind the bears!

This is a job that he won't shirk;
ahhh, yes, 'tis in a day's work!

06/29 Direct Link

Feeling punchy and slightly stove up from yesterday, the oft-slovenly Davey H managed to muster creative energies which were then put to practical utilitarian purposefulness in hanging the chickens' water 'tower' in a way that would enable stability.
Crafting text in preparation for purposeless posting would have to come later; his literary non-efforts seemed to take back-burner status on a very regular basis, as WAY too many other time occupiers were juxtaposed on the front burners of the proverbial mind-stove.

But no matter; as any boob fool could surmise, the old adage “in 100 Words, who's gonna care?” aptly applies.

06/30 Direct Link

It would seem to take so little time, this would-be daily task of culling, collating, and creating text at the requisite rate, posting it on the equally requisite date.

But is not to be.

Time evaporates in all instances for the largely disorganized farmboy.
So where does his time go?
Let's take a peek:

Wake up 6 am,
heart beating nearly at tachycardia rate.
No fear, you hear?
He'll rarely sleep late.

Piss, burp, fart, splash water to start
on face, that place above the heart.
Shuffle in past the living room wall.
Got telly messages? Check 'em, that's all.