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Monthly Archives: August 2011


Back in my day, we had this place called the library. Now, I’m not talking about the bar or the strip joint, I’m talking about the place where you go to read books. What’s with the stupified look? You don’t know what books are? What, they don’t teach you about books in your history class? Well, I suppose that’s less important than memorizing the list of Presidents’ names. How many is it now anyway? 250? Why is that so important? By this time next year, you’ll forget all but about 10 of them. So let’s get back to BOOKS. A book is made out of paper and has lots of pages with typed words on them for you to read. Some of them tell a story and…do you kids have any idea what I’m talking about? No, you can’t play a game! I’m trying to teach you about something important! I don’t care if it’s boring! What’s paper?!?! What are my taxes paying for? It seems like all they’re teaching you kids is how to play games and be bored about shit!

– Written by Mr. T on August 12, 2011



Lightning, written by Miss A on August 23, 2011


They say lightning never strikes the same place twice, but obviously, they never met my cousin Bill. He got struck twice in the head two summers in a row under the same tree!

The way he tells the story, you’s say he was an unlucky fellow, but I say he’s lucky because he’s alive to tell the tale!

“All I was doin’ was takin’ a nap,” he’ll explain, stretching his hands behind his head as he leans back in his chair. “And all of a sudden, a wicked storm flew overhead – the darkest, angriest clouds you ever did see. So angry, I was frozen in fear – but just for a split second. Then I felt at home when the buckets of rain came pouring down like a cool shower after a hot day of workin’ in them fields. I had nowhere to be, so I sat under that tree and watched that sky scream and shout some devilish things. Stomping all loud as it threw its fit. And just when I thought it might be tirin’ out, all of a sudden, there was an electric streak flying from those black clouds toward my wet head. Imagine my shock wakin’ up in a hospital bed with a big ol’ white bandage wrapped around my noggin and them doctors tellin’ me I was struck by lightning! They reckon I must have a hard head, and I’m inclined to agree because don’t ya know the very next year, I was nappin’ under that same tree and another bolt of lightning knocked me dead for two seconds flat?”

“You reckon someone up above is tryin’ to tell ya somethin’?” I asked my cousin Bill.

“Nah,” Bill replied, shaking his head. “I reckon I just need to find me a different tree for taking naps under.”

-Written by Miss A on August 23, 2011 (she’s been on a drawing spree for the past week)


Peace, Written by Miss A on August 22, 2011


Can’t we all give Peace a chance? She’s really sad because no one seems to like her anymore. All of her friends are in a big fight over who’s right and who’s wrong. And poor Peace has become an outsider. She just wants us all to get along and help one another out. Why must that be so hard to do? It’s so sad to see Peace cry. If we all would stop shouting and fighting and killing, then maybe Peace would smile again. She has a beautiful smile when all is right with the world. So let’s pause for one second and all take a breath. Let’s put aside our grievances and forgive. Let’s work together instead of against each other. We can make all the difference in Peace’s happiness. Just by being nice to each other. A smile never hurt anybody, but money and guns do every day. Maybe all of the politicians and dictators could smile and give each other a hug instead of raising their fists and shouting hateful accusations. Maybe we all could smile and hug our friends along with our enemies. For Peace’s sake, I’m willing to smile and give everyone in the world a giant hug. Are you willing, too?

-Written by Miss A on August 22, 2011

Grocery store

You’re gonna get more at the grocery store

at the grocery store

at the grocery store

You’re gonna get more at the grocery store

When you want something to eat

You could go to the fridge at your rich friend’s house

You could go to the corner store

You could go pretty much anywhere in town

But nothing can beat that grocery store

grocery store

What’s that in Spanish?


Oh, you’re gonna get more at the grocery store

at the grocery store

at the grocery store

Yeah, you’re gonna get more at the grocery store

When you want something to eat

They have pickles and meat and pickled pigs’ feet

Cheese and crackers and cream of wheat

Apples and oranges and bananas and peppers and banana

peppers and pluots and grapples and whoahhhhh…..!

Freak out! Freak out! Everybody freak out! Aaaaaahhh!!!

You’re gonna get more at the grocery store

at the grocery store

at the grocery store

Oh, you’re gonna get more at the grocery store

When you want something to eat

Yeah, you’re gonna get more at the grocery store…..

When you want something to eat!

– Written by Mr. T on August 17, 2011

Raindrops (v2)

Thanks to Mr. T reading his “Raindrops” entry to me on Tuesday morning, I’ve had “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” in my head for the past three days! So, it seemed fitting to address these raindrops with my own entry about the subject, which also happens to be the first one where I’ve sketched an illustration onto the page:

Raindrops, Written by Miss A on August 19, 2011


“Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head. But that doesn’t mean my eyes will soon be turning red. Crying’s not for me…” I was five years old and this was my favorite song to play on the jukebox at the Thirsty Bear Pub outside of Rhinelander, WI. The bar was dark with the smell of old wood and sour beer dominating the air.

I was having a great time! I loved the statue of the bear that welcomed customers into the bar, the fact that I got to sit up at the bar with my dad, that the bar tender poured me my favorite bar drink (a kiddy cocktail), and that I was allowed to pick a song on the jukebox. And there I was. Five years old, sitting at the bar with my dad, cocktail in hand, singing along to “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head,” and beaming from ear to ear.

– Written by Mr. T on August 7, 2011

an Engine

Engine engine number 5

Will I make it out alive

Time is twisting turning softly

Doing all it can to save me.

Every atom on my side

Space tears open, open wide

Takes me in through great steel doors

As they flutter to the floor.

Hold on gently, fragile bones

Grinding, screeching, screams and cries

Bellowing from somewhere nearby

Far away through confused eyes.

Lay me down onto the stones

Blinding sun and searing knives

Bright red ribbons sin compassión

I am only one of many

This is only mine.

– Written by Mr. T on August 7, 2011