Thursday, August 17, 2017

Odds Of Creation Get A Notation!

Isn't it fun to create? Can be anything that takes the bait. From words to cards to weird plants in yards. All can sure be done. Go for it as long as you find it fun. Don't go for it you are a mime. Fake things is just a crime.

Odds are slim.
Slim and prim.
Prim and proper?
Bah, call a grammar copper.

See? Created?
Is it dated?
That it may be.
Like cards to see.

Christmas ones.
She's got tons.
Birthday ones.
Even for nuns.

Up and up.
Fills her cup.
There is no stopping,
The card cropping.

Made and waiting.
Even after dating.
A new post to show.
Odds sure aren't low.

Movies of old.
There to take hold.
Movies of new.
There are a few.

High are the odds.
Dangling on fishing rods.
Not sinking in the lake.
No need for a double take.

Wait! A paper cut,
There at her hut.
Her finger can't linger.
She may lose the finger.

Ah, now it's the hand.
Odds sure aren't grand.
Wow, the arm too?
What a paper cut can do.

Hey diddle diddle.
Odds are a riddle.
Maybe stuck in the middle.
With no fingers to twiddle.

Odds = Flip Card Open To See
Two Flipping Arms Will Make Them Higher For Thee

Wow, she may need a card after that paper cut. A get well one would do at her hut. Must have been some bacteria filled paper. Maybe it was really an attempted murder caper? The paper cut serial killer. Could be the next thriller. Do you create at your sea? I'm sure some things come to be. Thankfully most paper cuts just get sass from my ever so sassy little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

An Odd List That Can't Be Missed!

Lists help here and there and they can be used everywhere. Some write them down each day. Pfffft to that I say. I'll keep them in my head. Saves time and doesn't cause trees dread.

Ten Odds For And Against Blabber. Like A Mime May Stab Her!

1. A deadly disease is caught in her mind. Fake diseases really put her in a bind.
So she runs far far away thinking blogger gave her a disease today.
 I hear they make pills for that. You can trust the cat.

2. A bird pecks her eyes out and she gives a hideous shout.
The shouting scares more birds and they eat her turning her to turds.
That would lower her odds of a new post display by the way.

3. She gets a job that requires more hours in some big NY towers.
Then she worries about the building fall over or tramping in the poop of rover.
Back to the birds she'd go and the crap thing, you know.

4. She goes on vacation and the plane goes boom. Oh the doom.
Fear of flying isn't bad. Saves money at ones pad.
Boom = lower odds as well as one rings their last bell.

5. A list pisses off some stalker fan. They throw her in the back of a van.
Wait, isn't her van still in another place? Oh that was another person's parking space.
Where are the higher odds? Not many to give nods.

6. She takes a "break" again there at her den.
May need to seek out the definition of break should she do a double take.
Probably thinks a robbery is about to occur. That won't make her purr.

7. She starts a new blog then goes back to the old time log.
But take her time in between before skipping back to her old scene.
The cat can recall. Odds are I remember all.

8. She hits it big. Runs away and dances a jig.
The odds go way down as she's from short town.
Yeah, she hit a big fat guy. Splat she goes on the first try.

9. She comes up short and files a short report.
Ideas are in short supply. On short notice away she did fly.
Notice my short retort? Sure didn't come up short.

10. She gets lost an in outhouse museum because to her it's like a coliseum. 
Hopefully not lost down a hole. That would be a nasty goal.
Odds are arriving in and it sure isn't a win.

Odds = Panic Attack
Still Stuck On The Disease Way Back

Ever have a fake disease? Did birds come after you like the breeze? Can a breeze come after you? Are you a blog "break" person at your zoo? Like break for a year. Does an outhouse museum cause you fear? Isn't that a great list? Sure one not to be missed. Now I'll watch the panic attack of that LMF...Jax...excuse me...Jaclyn lass. It is so amusing to my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Oddly Blue Shining Through!

The odds are blue today. I guess they change color at my bay. Beats red I suppose. He'd cut off your rump and your toes. That pointy stick is mean. Odds are I will now get on with it at my scene.

The odds are blue.
The odds are red.
Both are true,
As he snores in bed.

Whoops, on the couch.
That's just mean.
Must make him a grouch.
Snoring loud enough to rupture a spleen.

Odds go down low,
With a blown up spleen.
But that you know.
Basic anatomy at one's scene. 

Then there are humpers.
They may get payback.
Those crazy wall bumpers,
Like a rocking shack.

Blue fixed their wailing.
They want to keep rockin.
So the wall may be failing,
And they may get Blue if he goes a knockin.

Skinny jeans nuts,
May come a showing.
With their tight butts,
After his showing.

Skinny jean killers.
They hate his hate.
So forget the fillers,
The give him a skinny jean fate.

Bora Bora could come to be.
He may travel across the sea.
Tramp in the waste left by me,
And never come back to see.

School may be in.
Over worked and under paid.
That sure isn't a win,
So blogging may fade.

Whoops, there is a remake.
It's Jaws the reboot.
A post he'll have to bake,
As another movie goes in the trash chute.

Odds = Highly Blue
Remakes, Reboots and Redos In View

Blue shall still be around, unless killer snoring is found. Then he may go to jail for snoring spleen blasting. The movie is already casting. Been to Bora Bora at your sea? Have you tramped in cat pee? Ready for Jaws the remake? Wouldn't doubt it will get a triple take. Are you a skinny jean nut stuck in a skinny jean rut? The cat will now go roll in the green grass, adding another color today to my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Monday, August 14, 2017

WEP Times Two...Or Three At My Sea!

The cat is breaking the odds today. I guess I have too much to say. Odds are that will always come due as humans rarely ever get a clue. Plenty of ammo is at hand. Right. On with it at my land.

First we have a new release. Pat once again made the rhyming cease. How rude is that? But why are we showing it today at our mat? Because it was started by April's WEP post. And off it went at our coast. But I'll fix Pat. Hold on, we'll get to that.

Martin and Emma had survived much in life to get the family that they always wanted. But when a snowstorm delivers a young, abused boy into their life they realize further the gift bestowed upon them and begin the fight to give the same chance to him. Soon they discover a secret lurking in Hunts Bay that goes further than abuse and puts their entire family at risk.

Determined to keep the boy from harm, they now must unravel the secrets of his past before his past destroys their family. As threats close in, the pair quickly find themselves doing acts they would never have fathomed to keep him safe, their kids safe and escape the growing threat with their lives.


And now on with another show. Or should I say flow? Yeah, the cat is going to play too. Rhyming has to come due. Is doubling up cheating? Bah, we'll Yolanda and Denise deal with that at their next meeting.

Gods And Mods

Cassie and I were fast asleep. It is a way of life at our keep. That didn't last long though, mainly due to a familiar foe. I guess frienemy would be a better fit. Either way, once again we had to deal with his shit.

"Drazin wanted to go home, not end up with you fleabags."

"Thy demon better watch his trap." Pat threatened him with a spoon. Yeah, he was once again a loon.

"What do you want this time, godly mook?" Cassie yawned and tried to ignore. She found dealing with that bald headed buffoon a chore.

"Drazin didn't want this. Drazin wants to...Just great." Drazin rolled his eyes as we heard more cries.

The room then started to spin and it was time for another battle that we had to win.

"Bryan, what do you call an alphabet with no R?"

"Messed up?"

"Nope. Alphawrong."

"Is it just Drazin or were those two better when they had football heads?" Drazin curled his nose up at the beer guys while bloggers surrounded us like flies.

Did I mention a giant R floated above us too? R really needs to get a clue.

"Great meeting. Great post. Great reunion. Great post. Great death. Great post." R repeated that a lot as he floated in one spot.

Then all around us past foes started to appear. Zombie Betsy even cackled in my ear. The humans all strayed away from Silver Fox though. They remembered his snip snip the human show.

"Thy demon has really done it this time." Pat threw his spoon at R. That didn't get us very far.

"Don't look at Drazin. Drazin had nothing to do with this crap."

"It was me. Now give me my shoe while I wipe the land of repeats!" Blue Guy appeared above us all. I think someone stretched him and made him rather tall.

"So he tries to stop repeats by making everything come back and repeat themselves. Pffft what an idiot." Cassie swatted The Gawker away. Him and that eyeball sticking out of the top of his head was still a scary display.

"Damn it. My mod failed. Stupid Amazon seller sent me the wrong package." Blue Guy jumped up and down. He was like a child throwing a tantrum in crazy town.

"And there are those crazy nuts." Drazin eyed Truedessa and Blabber as they appeared. Actually, I think his red glowing eyes more like peered.

"I didn't get my shampoo!"

"Look at that sky." Truedessa twirled around, making an aww kinda sound.

"I think she got too much air on that mountain. Or maybe drank from a funky fountain." I couldn't help that one. It just slipped out before I began to run.

"All right, fleabags. Drazin is going to end this crap before Drazin gets stuck with that whiny one-eyed creep and that Irish nut again. Let's go."

"Thy demon is right. Let's take out the germ ridden blue man."

"I want my shoe, damn it." Blue Guy waved his arm and all wanted to cause us harm.

"Godly mook, handle them, we've got the shoe nut." Cassie nodded to me and off we did flee.

"What about your crazy human?"

"Use him as bait. At that he's first rate." I got a glare from Pat. He may have not liked that.

Blue Guy tried to run away while Drazin fought off any who got in his way. He used Pat as a shield a time or two. He may have even swung him around like a stick, too.

"Back, cats. Back I say!"

"Does he think we're dogs?" Cassie rolled her eyes at him while I slunk behind his shoe-less limb.

"See ya later, Blue. At least I didn't poo." I snickered as Blue Guy slipped on my puddle of pee and Cassie batted his machine free.

"See? I need my shoe. This is so eww for Blue."

"My turn." Pat grabbed a beer bottle from one of the beer guys and smashed it after three tries. He shoved the glass into Blue's machine and poof went the entire scene.

"Damn you, Amazon sellers," Blue Guy muttered while he backed away. He really wasn't having a very good day.

Drazin picked up his sparking machine while Blue Guy continued to make a scene. He then tossed it at Blue Guy and after a little hippy shake, Blue Guy vaporized like kids do to cake.

"Until next time Drazin has to deal with you and your crazy human, fleabags." Drazin went back to Plumtoad and we all soon returned to every day mode.

That means Pat went to cleaning our shit and we rested for more than a bit. I may have even relieved myself in Blue Guy's shoe. But he's not supposed to know I have it, so that's between me and you.

Word Count: 807

There we go. All done with today's flow. Wasn't that rather long? Bah, shorter than a trip to Hong Kong. Lots to take in today. There is even another story at Pat's other blogging bay. So I guess that would make three. Beats little old me. Odds are we'll be back to odds soon, so don't expect long arse posts from this loon. But so many questions still come due. Did Blue go to another planet at his zoo? Did Zombie Betsy really die once more? Did Truedessa get too much mountain air at her shore? Did the beer guys go lame? Does an R really want to maim? I even got a long question mass. Okay, after all that work, off I go to nap my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Odds Are Benched But Not Monkey Wrenched!

Why would a monkey have a wrench? Would it play with it on a bench? Would you call that monkeying around? Would it be dogging around if it were a wrench carrying hound? I guess you'll need to see that view from a bench at your zoo.

Betty's on the bench.
Not a stinky trench.
Unless a bench is by a trench.
Then she may be on that bench.

Wow, could get washed away.
Straight into a stinky bay.
That takes the odds down.
Who knew benches could make one drown?

She finds a new bench.
Here comes a psycho with a wrench.
She stole his bench spot.
Wowweee, odds go down a lot.

The bench may break.
Toppled over in a lake.
Maybe rolled down a hill.
Benches really can kill.

Then it could be worse.
What's worse than a psycho curse?
Could get a splinter in your ass.
Benches can have those in mass.

Of course you'd have to have no clothes.
Or sucky fabric that falls off when the wind blows.
Hmm, odds are low on that.
So that ups the odds from the cat.

But she's a peeper.
Not in the way of a creeper.
At least the cat hopes not.
That would drop the odds a lot.

Instead they drop a bit.
She thinks the neighbors are a hit.
Peeping as they come and go.
They may not like that though.

Psycho neighbors take revenge.
News at 11 from Stonehenge.
Or would that be from Arizona?
Heck, it's not from Daytona.

Neighbors have rallied.
The odds are tallied.
Can see them from a bench.
They are even translated to French.

Odds = Highly Benched
But No Splinters Leaving Butts Clenched

Ever get a splinter in your ass? Now how did that come to pass? The cat may not want to know. Any good benches at your show? Betty will be around still I bet. I'm usually a right pet. Posts may get benched though if her neighbors catch on to her peeping show. Hey, the cat won't tell and raise any hell. I can't say the same for that singing bass. He is more of a blabber mouth than my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Odds Are Rosey So Be Nosey!

Can something be rosey when it is not a rose? Or you know, named Rosey by friends or foes. Humans just have a weird way of describing things I guess. Anyway, will the odds be more or less?

These odds are easy.
May even smell cheesy.
She could have such a contest.
Isn't cheese the best?

Nah, we think not.
A mousey type plot.
That cat isn't a mouse.
Kick them from our house.

But Rosey contests all.
Meaning contests have a ball.
May even give you a ball.
Hell, she runs them all.

Except maybe R rated.
Family friendly is only slated.
That saves her from the creepy crew.
Odds go up at her zoo.

But those mommy bloggers may not win.
Now that is a real sin.
They may hold it against her.
Death threats may spur.

Hey, mommy bloggers can be mean.
Watch out when they lose at her scene.
Death by psycho mommy blogger.
Be a better ending than becoming a logger.

Get the reference there?
Odds are down at her lair.
Plus she travels and does reviews.
Now that could make the news.

Give a bad review.
Uh oh, psycho comes due.
The owner is at her door.
Bad reviews no more.

She went to the beach.
Giant litter box in reach.
Oops, there was a mark.
She got eaten by a shark.

Odds aren't looking good.
She may never post again in her hood.
Sharks and psychos galore.
Maybe a casket contest should be run at her shore?

Odds = 666
Too Many Crazies In The Mix

What was that? The odds were rigged by the cat? Rosey hates 666 coming due? Whoops, I was caught by you. Ever have a review nut come after you? Get eaten by a shark at your zoo? Piss off a mommy blogger yet? Got in your bet? So many questions have come to pass. I'm sure Rosey will still be around to curse my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Friday, August 11, 2017

Wanna Buy Odds From Cods?

What? Odds doesn't rhyme with ducks and it felt like cheating using hockey pucks. Aren't the ducks all sold out? Yep, that's why I switched to trout. Cods, trout, same thing. All fish swimming in a fish poo filled spring.

Wanna Buy A Duck?
Well you are crap outta luck.
That blog went poof.
No posts in over a year is proof.

So zero odds on that.
Sorry, but those odds are flat.
Moving on to Belva Block.
No ducks, what a shock.

Got chickens though.
They sure can grow.
They may peck her eyes out.
Odds are lower with them about.

That was such a Blabber thing to say.
I feel ashamed at my bay.
Not really though.
But I'm sure that you know.

Knows how to heal.
Doesn't reinvent the wheel.
But that could backfire.
She may not replace an old tire.

Pop it could go.
Then you never know.
Driving into a ditch,
Would sure be a bitch.

Odds are I spun that silly.
But it's all willy nilly.
You should know that too.
Taking odds on it at my zoo.

She came back twice.
Isn't that nice?
Ducks and Blocks.
New digs, same docks.

Daily rhyme every day for...forever.
The cat is too lazy to count the comment endeavor.
But she's been here a very long time.
Always ready to drop a dime.

Odds of a new post?
Hmmm, 2 months as of now at her coast.
Those odds are pretty slim.
Especially with killer chickens making things grim.

Odds = Falling, Falling
The Deadly Eyeball Eating Chickens Are Calling

Did you know chickens were that scary? No wonder they aren't hairy. They get blood in their fur. That wouldn't make anyone purr. Considering she'll make triple digits at her sea, I'm sure she'll still be around and rhyming free. But watch those chickens and their peck. Ducks may come after her for ditching their selling trek. Birds sure are up in arms against that lass. She better hide under the bed like my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Thursday, August 10, 2017

A Number One Is Oddly Spun!

Who will get number one today? Will Hank get it for his display? Maybe Betty will have insomnia and go for the win. Is insomnia ever a win at any bin? Blue may know as he gives copy and paste a go.

Odds of number one.
They must be done.
The rest is easy to guess.
More or less.

No odds on that.
Not need to be a broke cat.
So those bets are out.
Taking bets on #1 about.

Will Hank sneak in,
With a 7 am spin?
Will Blue copy and paste,
Getting in post haste?

Will Betsy get up early?
Nah, that would make her squirrely.
So odds go up there.
Saying What Off will make her glare.

Will blogger crash?
Back in a flash.
Will I even post?
Hmm, guess so at my coast.

Odds are in.
Hank may win.
Wait, there's a toad.
It's in the road.

Hank had to stop.
Could be a flop.
One the road with a toad.
Can't go #1 mode.

But there's the phone.
Can enter at the tone.
A win times two.
#1...#1..came due.

Nah, no double the wager.
Blame the pager.
Do they even use those anymore?
Odds are they don't at many a shore.

Hank's internet may die.
Oh me, oh my.
The odds are creeping down.
Who will have the #1 crown?

Odds = Topped Up
Likely To Fill Your Cup

Are your bets in? Who will get the win? Hmm, you probably already know as this is read as a comment has been put to bed. Was number one you? Ever get stuck on the road thanks to a toad at your zoo? Maybe the toad couldn't hop because it had bad gas? Just a thought from my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

A Halloween Nut In An Odd Rut!

That title could be taken all wrong. But so can Donkey Kong. No butt crack or things to mate. Candy Kong must not find him much of a date. Wow, went off there. Back to the odds at my lair.

Halloween Nazi is here.
Odds are something to fear.
Since the cat outed her,
She's scared people right out of their fur.

Hey, some people are furry.
So hairy they make eyes blurry.
She scared them out of that.
Maybe they'll thank her where she's at.

But not everyone else out there.
They now know to beware.
The Halloween Nazi will scare.
She may pull out their hair.

She has spells.
Much like wishing wells.
Hey, let's pretend they work.
To her ego it's a perk.

The town wants her on a stake.
Don't worry, the fire is fake.
But that could still be had.
Odds are lower at her pad.

She has mutts too.
She may slip in poo.
Landmines galore.
Odds are now something of lore.

Was that a dirty look to the cat?
Did you just see that she did that?
Odds go lower just for the look.
Yeah, I control the odds at my nook.

Or at least I pretend.
Them I won't amend.
So get your bets in.
Is she still giving posts a spin?

Oh, and don't forget the honey.
She thinks it is sunny.
She may cause bees to attack.
They may attack by the pack.

Offed by psycho bees.
Worse than fleas on knees?
Both are pretty pad.
The odds are in for her pad.

Odds = Highly Low
Better Than Lowly Low You Know

Don't fear her voodoo. You can make it through. Are you Halloween crazy too? A few months and it shall come due. Ever get attacked by killer bees? I may be wrong on her blog freeze. I think I am wrong on a lot. But the odds are come up with by some statistics robot. The cat can't help how they amass. Now get your bets in to my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Odd We Go With A Little Snow!

I know, such a yucky word. Well unless you are Betsy and a bit absurd. Piles of snow is sure not for me. But that you knew at my sea. Now on with it. The odds have to be lit.

This looks grim.
Better go out on a limb.
Place your bets.
Don't put up assets.

For she's on a bike.
Or maybe out for a hike.
Both near the woods.
Got her goods.

As in camera and bike.
No gutter to strike.
Oh, there's a thief.
Photos gone, good grief.

Wait, the thief was high.
A very stupid guy.
Colorado living at its best.
He was nothing but a pest.

But look and stare.
She's not aware.
It's a big grizzly bear.
Take a pic if you dare.

She sure dared.
The grizzly bear cared.
Cared a tad too much.
He reached out to touch.

Out hiking away.
Found a mountain display.
Whoops, found a crazy mountain hermit too.
Odds go lower just from his view.

Taking pics near and far.
Maybe catch the license plate of car.
It's an America's Most Wanted guy.
Down the odds sure fly.

But wait, there is hope.
No need to mope.
Rocks and yarn abound.
They litter the ground.

Patterns will still show.
Odds aren't as low.
May still be wise to bet a little.
Like only the cost of a skittle.

Odds = That Of Snow In Summer.
Damn, That Is Just A Bummer.

What was that? She's still where she is at? Was the cat wrong? Were the odds not as long? Hey, a crazy mountain hermit makes odds go way down. I can't help she may have them in her town. Ever face a grizzly bear? I hope you didn't stop and stare. That is not a wise move to let come to pass. On that you can trust my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Monday, August 7, 2017

A Vanishing Act Kinda Pact!

The ninja wannabe is here. Is that not clear? The wannabe part gives him away. For he is seen at many a bay on many a day. What more can I say? It turns out a lot. But that is a lesson you need not be taught.

A ninja attack.
It may kinda lack.
Can see him coming.
May even start humming.

Hey, he can sing.
So a weird ninja ring?
Mini Alex isn't so great.
That's why he became a litter box mate.

He hurt the cat's ears.
But he shed no tears.
At least he could never wet the bed.
Then he popped off his head.

What were the odds?
Care for some fishing rods?
I'm beating around the bush?
Maybe the bush with the tush?

That I may be.
Easy for me.
Told you I can talk.
At least I don't squawk.

Why you may ask?
Odds are an easy task.
Still movies that are showing?
Yep, even if in remakes are blowing.

Still music at play?
Yep, any old day.
IWSG still running?
Wasn't my last week's post stunning?

Are TV shows still on?
Yep, from dusk to dawn.
And dawn to dusk.
May even see an elephant tusk.

The Gawker likes animal mating.
His discovery channel gets no hating.
So that tells you it there.
Plenty of TV to spare.

So with all of that,
Plenty at his blog mat.
Only odds you have to find,
Is that of the vacation kind.

Odds = 99.99%
Unless On Vacation He Went

Well he could decide to go full ninja too and just disappear from view. But the mini one would give him away. He probably still stinks from his litter foray. Seen the ninja wannabe around? Do you think animal mating shows astound? Maybe you and The Gawker can have a thrill. Discovery channel fits the bill. I even got an agreement from the singing bass. This one has near perfect odds according to my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Sunday, August 6, 2017

A Rawkn Time With This Chime!

The cat would like to write this post, but I'm out on a date at my coast. Whoops, that isn't me. Damn, I shouldn't try and channel Robyn's sea. That is creepy. One may also get sleepy.

The odds are in.
They are slim.
Whoops, there goes the sin.
I guess they aren't so dim.

Robyn likes large.
Slim won't work.
Neither will quick discharge.
Large and long is a perk.

Wow, went there.
Odds are I would.
We've got verses to spare.
Were those odds understood?

That could be the why.
Why no new posts fly.
She's off under the sky,
With some new guy.

But that works both ways.
Are you lost in a daze?
I'll get you out of this maze
Don't want to light up and cause a haze.

Odds are she'd write it.
Give all the George flow.
Especially if one's a twit.
So odds may not be low.

But she may go into hiding.
Those erotic readings abound.
Could have the crowd dividing.
Peepers may surround.

Odds fall once more.
Sure not a perfect ten.
Especially if she gives an encore.
Damn, dirty men.

Then there is the chocolate trying.
So much of that at her shore.
Every type you can be spying.
She even gives the score.

But chocolate gum may come.
That would cause her to choke.
Get stuck and all goes numb.
Odds then go up in smoke.

Odds = Moderately Low
Peepers and Bad Chocolate May Show

Hmmm, the cat thinks she will still be posting and the dating nuts shall get a roasting. Always a dating tale to tell. Most not so swell. Wouldn't choking on chocolate gum be a bad way to go? My, her odds are rather low. Slim just won't cut it at her sea. Neither will snip snipped like me. She better avoid choking and the crazy nuts in mass. If so, odds are she'll still be seen by my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Saturday, August 5, 2017

A Neko Day With Odds At Play!

The cats knows the odds exactly today. I have to go all fact at my bay. The facts are in. So we better give it a spin. Fact is I must. In facts I trust.

Just the odds?
No time for gods.
Like Zeus was a king.
That is a fact ring.

Like Zeus wasn't real.
Quite the ordeal.
There is a fear of fun.
Cherophobia must be undone.

Just the odds?
Don't send odd squads.
I'm giving them to you.
Hold your goats at your zoo.

Speaking of which,
This may make you twitch.
Bill goats pee on their own heads.
Brings females to their beds.

Don't hiss and spit.
But if you must do it,
Aim for a pool.
You'll fill two in your lifetime with all your drool.

Good thing it's not Monday.
Cherophobia nuts get joined at play.
Or would that be none play?
Either way, more heart attacks on that day.

What was that?
The odds from the cat?
You'll get that fact.
Wait for the final act.

Robert Zimmerman can carry a tune.
Don't know him at your sand dune?
Right Bob Dylan is his fake name.
A bit more tame.

I may be a low percent.
May not even make a dent.
But penguin urine make up glaciers too.
I bet that you never knew.

And here is a tale.
A small child can join a whale.
A blue one that is.
And swim through its veins like nobody's biz.

Odds = Highly Sure
Unless He Gets A Jeopardy Brochure.

There will always be facts out there. Could do a billion posts at his lair. So the cat thinks he'll still be around. No dangerous things like killer clowns or disco abound. Maybe he'll get rich on Jeopardy though. So the odds aren't a sure thing thanks to that show. Know all those facts that came to pass? I'm just a fact finding little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Friday, August 4, 2017

A Musing For Your Perusing!

The burbs are scary. Things can get hairy. Just ask Tom Hanks. You may need tanks. Hey, if Gremlins come you just may. So don't go rolling your eyes at your bay.

A little musing,
For your perusing.
That I've said.
Let's put it to bed.

A little musing,
For your perusing.
Damn, the burbs are in my head.
Stuck there and bring dread.

Bijoux lives there.
Must be a tough lair.
All those houses looking the same.
Odds are not all is tame.

Odds are she may get bored,.
Odds are she may stick up a billboard.
Look, my house is different from yours.
Odds are it may start wars.

The neighborhood watch,
Will treat her like a sasquatch.
They can't allow change.
That in the burbs is strange.

Keep change inside.
Mayberry needs it's pride.
No changing of the tide.
Or in comes the death ride.

A dog may crap in her yard.
To them it isn't hard.
She may slip and fall.
Whoops, damn it all.

Her odds are sure sinking.
The neighborhood is linking.
Linking up against her change.
No way can she rearrange.

Oh, and she takes trips too.
Odds have went down the loo.
The neighbors will get rid of the change when's she's gone.
They'll "accidentally" set fire to her lawn.

No more computer at her sea.
This is one weird odd spree.
The burbs is such a scary place.
Everyone wears a smiley face.

Odds = Rather Low
Should She Become The Neighborhood Foe

Do you live in the burbs too? Is it as scary as her zoo? Did I embellish a bit? Hey, at least there is no hillbillies with it. That would be twice as bad. Think she'll survive at her Bytes from the Burbs pad? Odds aren't in her favor if change comes to pass. Or I may just be a crazy little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Thursday, August 3, 2017

Odds On The Redneck Come On Deck!

Hmmm, this one may be tough. Figuring out such odds could be rough. Maybe Vegas can help me out. They know what odds may be about.

The redneck is on deck.
May have to crane your neck.
Yeah, the odds are that low.
I'm sure there is no death though.

Whoops, I was wrong.
Look at her play along.
She's poking fun at super glued sex nuts.
They may get her after out of their glued ruts.

Along come more.
Enemies galore.
They are everywhere.
Odds are they'll only give an evil glare.

But what is this?
She has Facebook page bliss?
The blog is going down?
Uh oh, odds dip in her town.

Wait, she got in the liquor.
The words come quicker.
She needs another outlet.
Blogging is a safe bet.

Hmm, filled her cup.
That makes the odds go up.
Maybe just a little.
The liquor could just produce spittle.

She needs home repairs.
Like some new stairs.
Haven't we been there before?
Is this some rebooted encore?

She stated she'd never be back.
Whoops, lied at her shack.
That makes odds of a new post high.
But will one in August 2017 fly?

I don't know.
She may get sucked into a pimple popping show.
Or have much laundry to do.
Maybe dance disco like without a clue.

So the odds are in.
She may give one a spin.
But you got a 50/50 chance.
All hinges on that disco dance. 

Odds = In Between
Facebook may be her new disco scene.

What was your bet? What? You didn't bet yet? That is just rude. Is the redneck still around giving attitude? The cat shall see if it is true when this post comes due. She could have got sucked into some laundry craze or lost in a Facebook maze. The odds sure pile high against her in mass. Of course she could come back just to curse my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Hit The Trails Of Fails!

What if abounds.
Hit those grounds.
But stuck to one,
With what if spun.

Spun on in.
For the win.
A win that's a lose?
Not even a coin toss.

What if sinks.
Get some winks.
Some missing links.
Humans thinks.

Would that be thunk?
Go ask a skunk.
They don't rhyme.
They may not smell sublime.

Back on task.
What if I ask?
What if I don't?
What if goes won't.

Won't is it.
No what or if bit.
Just a clear won't.
Do you don't.

So don't you do.
Headache for you?
Haven't caught on?
It will sure dawn.

A what if.
There's your tiff.
What if is a fail,
Before you even hit the trail.

Better to do.
Ditch the what if crew.
Do and fail.
Make a new trail.

Failure teaches.
What if beaches.
As it leaves you stuck.
So on what if, back up the truck.

But wait there is more. IWSG is going to compete, not really, with Rosey's giveaway shore.
 Click here for a peer!

Don't need any of that. Yes, one may fall flat. One may fall flat 50 times over and over. May fail worse than a butt sniffing rover. But if you never do, nothing new can shine on through. So damn the what if. Forget that stupid tiff. Do and learn and then return. What if can choke on the gas of my little rhyming ass.
Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Odds To The Dogs And Brown Logs!

The cat sees mutts every day, at least for now at our bay. One we like, the other can take a hike. Or just get a smack upside the head. Don't go sticking your nose in the cat's bed. Just saying. Now on with the odd playing.

Scary they are.
Like hit by a car.
Dogs have to walk.
Maybe they'll squawk.

Or just yap,
At some passerby chap.
She won't see the car.
Bam, needs to go to a bar.

Nature could win.
She goes for a spin.
A leaf falls on her head.
She becomes a bird's bed.

Hmm that would be weird.
Could her head get cleared?
Bet the dogs would help.
The bird would then yelp.

She could go for a slip.
A slip on the backyard drip.
The drip from the dogs.
You know, brown logs.

They could eat her computer up.
Just like a frisky pup.
No more posting at all.
At least until a new one comes to her hall.

My, the odds are sinking.
The dogs must be drinking.
They stopped making them tumble.
Do I hear a rumble?

They ate everything in the house.
Nothing left even for a mouse.
She's got nothing to eat.
The internet connection gets chucked for a treat.

She goes away.
She does that at her bay.
Traveling near and far.
Whoops, plane instead of car.

Or the dogs have a fit.
They do all of it.
Odds are rather low.
All because she gave a vacation a go.

Odds = To The Dogs
Hopefully They Don't Lead Her Into Bogs

Who knew dogs made odds go so low? I've seen some give computer chewing a go. We just chew the cord at our sea. Hey, a cheaper replacement fee. Ever have a bird make a nest on your head? Bet that bird wound up dead. Dogs sure can eat homework and so much more. Maybe they'll eat her shoes and she can't leave her shore. The could up the odds to a new class. But we'll stick with those already given by my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Monday, July 31, 2017

A What If Blue Sure Comes Due!

The cat is nearly a year ahead. Yep, I have put that many posts to bed. A lot can change in a year. Every day rhymes can at any time be kicked into gear. But rhymes about bloggers can change as they go away. So for August, and last day of July, the what if odds game will come to play.

Today it's Fundy Blue.
Taking bets at my zoo.
Better get them in,
Before this post hits its final spin.

Odds of still posting.
Odds of the cat roasting.
One is greater than the other.
If you don't know, ask your mother.

She travels here and there.
Not sure I've seen her swear.
That means odds of getting shot are down,
As she drives about town.

You Americans carry guns.
Gun totting nuns.
That would give me the runs.
Be scary by tons.

She researches a lot.
Could stumble onto a dastardly plot.
Could be that of a killer northern clown.
That takes the odds down.

She travels near and far.
Not much by car.
Those planes are big.
They can dance a jig.

And when they dance,
One can only glance.
As boom they go.
My, her odds are low.

She goes to Hawaii's coast.
There she could roast.
The sun may get to her.
A sunburn that could spur.

Or she could drown in the water.
Maybe she can swim like an otter?
Even odds could be got there.
Still not looking good for her lair.

The odds are in.
A post she will still spin.
Whether or not it's scheduled though,
I just don't know.

Odds = Kinda Low
With All That Travel and Killer Clowns You Never Know

Geez, Fundy Blue does dangerous stuff. A northern killer clown plot would be rough. Is she still posting come August 2017? I guess we shall see at her scene. Lots of what ifs that could lead to her demise. Odds are though she won't feed flies. What? The cat is just having fun with odds at his sea. I may get to thee. Maybe she just quit the blogging pass. I guess we shall see if she's still around and I'm a right little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Challenging It Is With This Quiz!

The cat will quiz you today. Yep, such a challenge it will be on display. I am going to make you work. Isn't that a perk? Using your mind. Damn, I may break mankind.

2 plus 2.
What comes due?
Take your time,
With my challenging chime.

2 minus 2.
No rushing from you.
Make sure to think it over.
It is okay to ask rover.

2 times 2.
Really getting hard for you.
Work it out on paper.
Even us a calculator for this caper.

2 divided by 2.
Are you turning blue?
I know, such hard work.
Isn't such a challenge a perk?

Now we get rough.
This next section is tough.
Challenging it will be.
But I, kinda, believe in thee.

1 plus 1.
Give it a run.
I know it is tricky.
Aren't challenges icky?

1 minus 1.
Damn, this isn't fun.
It is soooo hard.
Forever you'll be scarred.

1 times 1.
You're under the gun.
We are almost done.
Hint: the answer isn't none.

1 divided by 1.
What could be spun?
This is so hard on the head.
This challenge may leave you dead.

Now add all the answers together.
This challenge you can weather.
Hint: Look on the back of this post.
There the answer you can toast.

Weren't you challenged today? My, what a challenge at my bay. Can you tell I'm being a sarcastic cat? Pfffft to any of that. Have people become so dumb and brain umm numb that such meager challenges about are actually a challenge to more than trout? I'm talking average every day people too. Not learning disabilities at any zoo. Although you'd think many have one. They are so dumb by a ton. The definition of challenge may need to be changed. Or at least rearranged. If it is challenging when you are all but given the answer to it, then I'm a rhyming dog that can roll over and sit. That is all for my oh so challenging challenge pass. I challenge you to prove wrong my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Saturday, July 29, 2017

The Right Takes A Flight!

The cat is right. Right at my site. Right about what? Who cares at my hut. I'm just right. Pffft to any of that taking flight. Having a wrong can be fun to play along. But that we've done. So right on with the fun.

I'm right.
Right in my plight.
Right in my life.
Right about strife.

I'm right about it all.
Writing is on the wall.
Can't you see?
I'm right in front of thee.

Don't walk away.
Get back here, I say.
I'm right in everything.
Answer when I ring.

I'm sooo right.
Right day and night.
Don't talk to him.
He is just dim.

Talk to me.
I'm right, you see.
So talk to me alone.
Don't throw them a bone.

They aren't right.
They'll never see the light.
Their brain is dark.
They can't hit the mark.

I am right.
Right on sight.
So stand and hear.
Lend me your ear.

Don't go there.
Don't just glare.
Don't run away.
Don't say, hey.

Just listen to me.
Shut up at your sea.
Listen to what I have to say.
Damn everything else on display.

You don't agree?
Pffft who are thee?
You are just dumb.
I'm always right, chum.

Such idiots need to go take a hike. Or maybe get run over by a bike. Because while you may be right, saying it in a dumbass way won't make anyone bite. Some dogs may bite you for being an sob at your zoo. But that's the only bite you will receive as the rest leave. All depends on how you say it and if you aren't full of shit. The latter sure helps too. Can you get your point across with ease at your zoo? Can you do it without one wanting to give you sass? If not, you may get ignored by my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Friday, July 28, 2017

Crane Your Neck To The Rigged Deck!

Now gambling we've done, as a rhyme or two has surely been spun. But that happens right away. Did you know you could still be doing it at your bay? Rigged in every way. As there you stay.

Got a credit card.
Paid for the bigger yard.
Got a new loan.
Paid for a fancy drone.

Got another credit card.
Paid for an even bigger yard.
Got a new loan.
Paid for an even bigger drone.

Boy, this rhyme is lame.
Can make the same claim.
Which is more lame though?
The rhyme or the idiot spending the dough?

Guess what? It's a bet.
No legs broken, so don't fret.
Unless you go to a loan shark.
They may leave a mark.

You're betting you can pay it down
You're betting you won't frown.
You're betting the payments will be fine.
You're betting everything will align.

Whoops, lost job.
Whoops, you owe Bob.
Whoops, new expense came due.
Lost that bet, did you?

Now you're behind.
The goal of mankind.
Stay stuck in debt.
Play the rigged bet.

For you can get another loan.
A loan to cover the loan of your drone.
Yeah, that will help you out.
No more will you scream and shout.

Whoops, another expense is had.
Whoops, you need that latest fad.
Whoops, you bought more shoes.
Whoops, you act like it is new when you lose.

Not your fault at all.
Nope, not at your hall.
Society says you must.
In a new loan you can trust.

Pfffffffffffffft to such brain dead people any day. It is a bet at your bay. I suppose at least you get something for it. But doesn't mean you still won't throw a poor pitiful me fit. Well poor pitiful you did it to your poor pitiful self. Wasn't a merry little elf. It's a rigged deck any day and yet you still play. Just long term gambling. Know anyone who fits my rambling? Bet you know many in mass. They'll get no sympathy from my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Not There By A Hair!

The cat has had it done and then I have a little fun. Some are just so lazy, but that isn't something any find hazy. Except maybe for the brain dead and the lazy crew. So I guess there may be quite a few.

It's not there.
Nope, not at all.
I checked at my lair.
I followed the bouncing ball.

It lead me nowhere.
I could not find it.
I had time to spare,
But it never showed a bit.

A site, information or even a pic.
Nothing was there as I went, click!
Is there some trick?
You can do it slick.

Why don't you do it?
I'll settle for that.
You make it a hit.
Come on, rhyming cat.

Do it for me.
I can't find it.
You'll cause me glee,
As here I sit.

I searched and searched.
I tried and tried.
As here I'm perched.
Oops, I lied.

I wanted easy.
I wanted you to do it.
I won't get cheesy.
But you're a hit.

Do it for me.
I declare it now.
You'll love such a spree,
It will just wow.

Then send me the link.
Send me what you know.
I'll read as I drink.
I've also got a lawn to mow.

Feel free to do that too.
You are just the best.
I haven't a clue.
But you pass the test.

Pfffft such idiots put more work into not doing it themselves than the collective work of Santa's elves. Some can't use a search engine worth a damn. Others have a brain of spam. Ever get asked to do it for someone instead of them giving what they needed a run? The cat will screw with them and then give sass. That is the best the lazy sobs will get from my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Look What I Own At The Tone!

Now we all know about the Jones's type nuts. That has been said at many huts. Been there, done that. But there are more Looky Lous that chew the fat. They want you to be so impressed. Frankly, I'm surprised they can even get dressed.

Look at me.
Share my glee.
I've got stuff.
Can't get enough.

Not a hoarder.
All is in order.
You've been there?
Hoard to spare.

What we want,
Sure does taunt.
It allows a touch,
Or fame and such.

I've got Will Smith's trash.
Stole it in a flash.
Isn't that great?
Won't you be my mate?

I've got so dead celebrities hair.
Her name I can't share.
I don't want you to steal it.
But she had many a hit.

I've got her toe nail clippings too.
Want to see a few?
They are in pristine condition.
But it's paid only admission.

I've got Elvis's mowed grass.
I have it in mass.
It's all frozen in the freezer.
Sure to be a people pleaser.

I even got...shh don't tell.
This one is really swell.
It's Harrison Ford's used condom.
I used the force to bond them.

But that's not all.
I've got a whole wall.
Such things are totally rare. from down there.

Other stuff I've sold.
These things are pure gold.
Don't you want to view?
Maybe even make an offer on one or two?

Pfffft and pfffft some more a sadly such things are considered "collectible" at many a human shore. Really? Hair and trash and many many other weird things in a stash? That just scares the cat. Less impressive than my scat. Do you have any such "collectible" items like bottled Luke Skywalker gas? Best not to tell my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

A Little Age Change Wage!

The cat hears humans say they don't change even if life were to rearrange. For some that may be true, as they whine in mommy's basement all the day through. But for others we shall see. Change sure comes, for better or worse, to thee.

Add a day.
Add a year.
Much will play.
Cheer or fear.

Each an add.
Each a loss.
Change is had,
Comes like moss.

Grows more cold.
Grows more happy.
Truth be told,
May get more yappy.

Less is more.
More is less.
Damn the chore,
Leave the mess.

More days behind.
Less days ahead.
Some mean, some kind,
Time has sped.

The less you care.
The more you do.
Either way you're aware,
What others think of you.

More grumpy, more bitter.
Less selfish, less about me.
Can sure take to Twitter,
Or just let it be.

A decision here.
A decision there.
Change is near,
Whether or not aware.

A little more of this.
A little less of that.
Could be bliss or hiss,
Or some extra fat.

Change shall grow.
Change shall come.
Unless, you know,
You just sit on your bum.

I suppose it will come then as well. For you may get wide as Hell. That is some sort of change, right? Change sure happens whether or not we want it to take flight. Age brings it along and we may sing a new song. May not always be a good one and could hurt the ears a ton. But I'll leave that to the singing bass. Now I have to get Pat to change the litter of my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Monday, July 24, 2017

A How Dare Sympathy Stare!

So the other day the cat listened to a human have their say. More like rolled my eyes in dismay. Then they caught on to it. Ranting and having another fit. So came the rub along with a "see ya later, bub."

Were you listening to me?
I was talking to thee.
Don't roll your eyes.
Hear my whiny cries.

I'm in such bad shape.
May need duct tape.
It can keep anything together,
Even in the worst weather.

I'm in need of this.
It would sure give me bliss.
Why is it amiss?
Hear me hiss.

What am I to do?
Nothing will come through.
What was that?
Shut up, cat!

You know nothing at all.
That was a mean call.
Stay away from me.
I can't believe that came from thee.

Why would you say that?
You are such a mean cat.
That isn't how people act.
That is a simple fact.

You should be ashamed.
Your upbringing must be blamed.
That human is worse.
I hope you fall under a curse.

You have no clue.
Can't believe that came due.
I am now going away.
I am in such dismay.

I can't believe it was said.
I'll go cry in bed.
Are you happy now?
Don't you raise that eyebrow.

All right, I'm going.
My tears are growing.
You are so mean.
I'll go elsewhere and make a scene.

Any guess what the cat said to the whiny one as they went on their oh so whiny run? It was as simple as can be. You'd think I swore at them at my sea. All that was said was what popped in my head. "I have no sympathy for you because you do nothing to fix things at your zoo." Now I may not have rhymed it but you get what caused the fit. Ahhh the whiner class. They'll get no sympathy from my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Sunday, July 23, 2017

A Rated Time With This Chime!

The cat did the whelmed bit. That was sure a hit. Good and whelmed some can be. Who needs the over and under at their sea? Here is another that never gets love. Not even when push comes to shove.

The path is gated.
Poor old rated.
Add at the tone.
Can't be alone.

Overrated it is.
Damn that biz.
Gets my hate.
Overrated out of the gate.

Underrated it is.
Here is a pop quiz.
For you need to get to know,
This underrated show.

What if neither is true?
Can rated come due?
You never hear it said.
Is rated better off dead?

X-rated gets play.
PG rated comes your way.
R rated joins in.
14+ is given a spin.

G even lends a hand.
NSFW joins the band.
But plain old rated?
Must really be hated.

The truth is true.
99% believe it at their zoo.
Never will all agree,
That's known by you and me.

But most from coast to coast,
Neither under or over they boast.
They just love what has come due.
Wouldn't that mean rated is in cue?

Was that a no?
Is rated your foe?
Why all the hate?
Can't rated ditch the over under mate?

It wants to be whelmed.
Not over or under helmed.
Just whelmed and rated,
With no need to be inflated.

The cat just made a case for rated. Ever think rated is ill fated? Rated sure gets the hate. It's never used without a mate. Unless asking what something is rated and then a new rated is gated.That must get on its nerves. Can a word have such swerves? Can't even get on nerves at one's sea. Even if one has them come to be. Rated just threw me into a whole other sass. I'll just stay a whelmed little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Pick A Name Not So Tame!

The cat makes fun of humans as a whole. That is such an easy stroll. You make it far too easy for me. But I never meanly going after one person at my sea. That sure isn't the way of the whole. Many humans need a bash to the head with a lump of coal.

Her I don't like
Him I rather hate.
A fine way to strike,
But then you take the bait.

She's just a bitch.
I don't know her for real.
But oh what a witch.
I say it with zeal.

He's just an ass.
I'd hate his ugly face.
I just know he's crass.
I put him in his place.

Let's up the ante.
Can be so easy.
Go down the umm slanty?
Get even more breezy.

She's a bleep bleep bleep.
I know it to be true.
I read it at my keep.
The internet gave me a clue.

He's a bleeping bleep bleeper.
I heard it from a friend of a friend of a friend.
I never dug any deeper,
But him I'll still offend.

Oh, I'm not done.
Did you see that bleeping bleep?
I hate them a ton.
They are such a useless heap.

I don't agree with that.
I think it is wrong.
I hope you go splat.
I'm right all along.

Because I'm right I have the will,
The will to call you names.
Here, have your fill.
Bleep you, you bleeping bleep and your bleeping claims.

Can't be civil.
Can't sound wise.
Let brain cells shrivel,
As the mud slinging flies.

Pfffft all humans can do as they hide away at their zoo. Okay to dislike something and not agree. But yeah, let's just shout hate at every one of those bleeps from behind a computer screen at our sea. Don't you love haters? Toss them all in moon craters. That will suck the hot air out of them in mass. Such a thing sure wouldn't get any hate from my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.