This post was originally published on 20 December 2011 on the Miskatonic University Netherworld Annex blog, which is currently in use as one of my private cataloging blogs. I am updating the post to include reactions to this lovely Xmahanukwanzyule tree, which is currently set up in President Cthulhu's office at the Miskatonic University Netherworld Annex main branch in Nightmare Heights, Netherworld.
Beavis: Hey, Butthead, that tree touched my butt!
Butthead: Beavis, that tree would kick your butt, you bumhug.
Ghost Town Grover: When Cactus Clem says this here tree speaks to him, I'm purty sure he means that literal-like. It ain't said nary a word to me, but I kinda feel like it's watching me.
Sketch of Cthulhu by H.P. Lovecraft
So, why are we making this a Fat Friday post?
Because EVERY BODY deserves to have a Happy Xmahanukwanzyule free of body-shaming bullshit. That includes everyone from the mighty Cthulhu to YOU!
"Say, Ornery, you know that sun tea you was brewin' on the front porch? Well, I was kinda thirsty after my stroll on the Lone Prairie, and I done drank it all down. I don't think it had no bird poop in it, though, 'cause it had a cover on it and everything.
Just keep blathering on and making the reader want to
Kill them in order to shut them up, finding themselves a
Lead pipe to bludgeon to death the overly verbose poet and their
Meandering lines of word after word after meaningless word, does this person truly
Not know when to shut the hell up, can they truly not see how
Obnoxious their run-on lines are, do they not know that they are an embarrassment to
Poets everywhere, have they no pride in themselves and the craft of poetry, had they a
Quill, I would break it and stab it through their heart so they couldn't write one more
Run-on line in the self-aggrandizing mess they believe to be a poem, they must really love the grating
Sound of their own voice, or at least the sight of their own words, I really hope they don't
Talk the way they write because listening to them would be like nails on a chalkboard, a completely, absolutely, and
Utterly intolerable, never-ending flow of verbal vomit, which would cause anyone in earshot to flee, in order to escape the ceaseless
Vocal violence of endless words being spouted for the sake of spouting them as if the speaker had no regard for the
Weary listener, or for the craft of poetry or prose, or knowledge that the reader would rather throw themselves into a nest of
Xenomorph eggs and become host to an alien monster that would soon rupture from their innards and leave them in a foul mess of
Yellow bile and red blood, but even this this terrible fate is preferable to reading line after line of dreadful verse brewed up by a
Zany poet who really and truly simply does not understand the concept that less is more and they should have wrapped this thing up ages ago
~Cie~
Note:
The prompt asked for participants to stretch their comfort zone with line breaks, not realizing that I am very prone to hyperbole and that I would be likely to make everyone else suffer along with me.
Judge Dustbinn Knaprous has created a most pyfmont warning for his fellow VILE Awards judges regarding the worst Splunge-negating offenders among Netherworld musicians
The Most Spluvid of Splunge-Negators:
A Warning both Timely and Bropp
by
Judge Dustbinn Knaprous
Yokon, VILE Awards Council
Fellow Ovlon Diglin:
By far the worst of the worst
Of bands going above and beyond the muvip call of duty
To negate the spevid quality known as Splunge
Is the Young-led legion of the Splungeless
That figcrop of a band known as
The Quick and the Undead
They plunge the Splunge to -666
Never should Vogon-kind see the day
When they are allowed to play
For a more wudlus day you will never see
Yours in Splunge and Vogonosity,
Dustbinn Knaprous
Yokon Honourable
VILE Awards Council
Note:
This was supposed to be a list, but Vogons are notoriously lazy and unpleasant, so I didn't want to push Judge Knaprous for more.
And now for our prompt (optional, as always)! It’s the weekend, so I’d thought we might go with something short and just a bit (or a lot) silly – the Clerihew. These are rhymed, humorous quatrains involving a specific person’s name. You can write about celebrities, famous people from history, even your mom (hopefully she’s got a good name for rhyming with).
Hi! I'm Oxy Moron, famous Netherworld jester. Today's prompt inspired 2014 VILE Award Winners Jennifer Lopez and Iggy Azalea to ask me to help them write this ode to Axe Man for the good time he showed them in honor of their win.
I was so proud of our work that I decided to ask some of the Netherworld's most respected musicians what they thought. Here are their reactions.
Ugh! I should know better than to ask that crabby curmudgeon anything. Let's see what his band mate thinks.
I'm not quite sure how to interpret that. Did he like it, or is he plotting my demise? Let's see what Malcolm's brother thinks.
Well, um...he kind of got back to the spirit of the original song. I guess that was his intent. Or something. You never know with these guys.
For the Daring:
Here are the original lyrics
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you
(Ain't that a freak)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (My baby, uh)
You're gorgeous
I mean you're fine
You're sexy
But most of all
You are just absolutely booty-full
Have you seen her
On the dance floor
She got the boom, shake the room
That's the lightning and the thunder
You wanna meet her
You wanna touch her
See the light in her eyes
And it starts to make you wonder
All the sexy girls in the party
Go and grab a man, bring him to the dance floor
Go on let them jeans touch you while you're dancing
It's his birthday, give him what he ask for
(Let me show you how to do it)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (work)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (shake that)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (go work)
Big, big booty, what you
The way she moves
I know you want her
She light the fire, get you right
That's the lightning and the thunder
You wanna meet her
You gotta touch her
Hold on tight for the ride
'Cause you know you wanna love her
All the sexy girls in the party
Go and grab a man, bring him to the dance floor
Go on let them jeans touch you while you're dancing
It's his birthday, give him what he ask for
(Let me show you how to do it)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (work)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (shake that)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (go work)
Big, big booty, what you a big booty
Booty, booty, booty, booty, booty everywhere
Look at her booty, stop, stare
They love that booty, hell yeah
The way she twerk it, not fair
She got a booty, that'll swallow a thong
And if you do it better do it dirty all night long
Booty, toot it, boot it, you know the plan
So much booty, she could supply the demand
I wanna take that big 'ol booty shopping at the mall
I wanna pick it up and put that booty in my car
Baby your booty is a movie star
Oscar award winner of them all, now give me that
Mesmerized by the size of it
You can fight it if you like take your time
I can guarantee you'll have the time of your life
Throw up your hands if you love a big booty
Big big big big big big booty, what you
Big big big big big big booty, what you
Big big big big big big, big big big
(Let me show you how to do it)
(Work)
(Shake that)
(Go to work)
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty
Big, big booty, what you got a big booty (shake that)
For the truly daring or otherwise masochistic:
Here is the video
The Prompt:
Our prompt today (optional, as always), will hopefully provide you with a bit of Friday fun. Today, I challenge you to write a parody or satire based on a famous poem. It can be long or short, rhymed or not. But take a favorite (or unfavorite) poem of the past, and see if you can’t re-write it on humorous, mocking, or sharp-witted lines. You can use your poem to make fun of the original (in the vein of a parody), or turn the form and manner of the original into a vehicle for making points about something else (more of a satire – though the dividing lines get rather confused and thin at times).
There's a picture in the post of some guy's weiner
We also have kind of an adolescent sense of humor
So I guess that's about it for old Adam's online presence
It's kind of weak sauce
But I have a little fun when I stop by
I guess I'm like that guy who hangs out by the dip at parties
Nursing a beer
And then slips out with no-one really noticing
~Adam~
The Prompt:
Today, I want you to try to write a “social media”-style poem. Namecheck all of your friends. Quote from their texts, tweets, FB status updates, twitter accounts, and blogposts, and the back of the cereal box on your breakfast table. The poem is about you and you are about what you say, think, talk, eat. You might end up with a poem that seems bizarrely solipsistic (like the internet itself, maybe?), but there might also be a spark there of something live and fun and present (like the verbal equivalent of a really great animated cat .gif).
"Circuspeanut" by Dictouray at English Wikipedia - Own work. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Circuspeanut.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Circuspeanut.jpg
This was the most challenging of these images to date. I wasn't satisfied with the color of the text, I wasn't satisfied with the arc, I struggled with it for quite some time. I am not a professional artist. I hope it does Adam's Haiku justice.
It seems no matter what I do, Axe Man just won't get a clue!
Axe Man Is A Clueless Chump
Axe Man does not see
He is not the one
He keeps asking me
To see his big tool
Seriously why?
Why is he a fool?
I've got my own man
Cupid is cruel
Axe gets lots of chicks
Groupies by the gross
Still he just can't see
That he makes me sick
He wants me alone
He thinks he's so slick
He's slick as gruel
That fell in the pool
~Brittney~
Brittney is one of the most famous and best-loved DJ's at KHEL 666 Radio Netherworld and a journalist for FOGNL/UNDEAD Media Services. In this report, she and Detective Olivia Benson discuss the demerits of this year's VILE Awards winners, and Axe Man's unwanted advances.
Brittney has been trying to thwart Axe Man's advances since 2006.
Octameter, created by Shelley A. Cephas, is a poem made up of 16 lines divided into two stanzas of 8 lines each. Each line has a syllable count of 5. The set rhyme scheme is: a/b/c/d/e/d/f/d g/h/c/g/i/g/d/d.
Example #1:
Angel Delight
Sweet little angel
fill my heart with joy;
let me feel the love
you will give today.
In your shining eyes,
bright as sunshine’s ray
you bring me delight
each and every day.
Filled with loving grace,
you enrich my soul;
God’s gift from above,
I’ll always embrace.
Your smile warms my heart
when I see your face;
as I watch you play
from me do not stray.
The Decuain (pronounced deck•won), created by Shelley A. Cephas, is a short poem made up of 10 lines, which can be written on any subject. There are 10 syllables per line and the poem is written in iambic pentameter.
There are 3 set choices of rhyme scheme:
ababbcbcaa, ababbcbcbb, or ababbcbccc
For a longer Decuain poem, add more stanzas for a double, triple, quatruple, etc. Decuain.
Example #1:
Dear Heart…
Our dearest Susan has a tender heart,
a mother who’s devoted to her son,
her love and wisdom to him she’ll impart,
so when they are together they have fun;
I know their love shall never come undone.
She’s special to her friends and family,
a gift from God, who’s loved by everyone
for truly she is blessed with dignity,
in this I’m sure that we would all agree
because I know she has been good to me.
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