Tag Archives: Travel

The Placelandian National Anthem

Placelandia! We celebrate

The nation that is not a state,

The place where politicians come to die!

Where residents have common sense

And our plan for national defense

Is not to be a dick to folks nearby.

Placelandia! We celebrate

Our lack (so far) of Watergate

Or other nasty scandals of that kind.

Where citizens think differently

And something backs our currency;

A country built with happiness in mind.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

A nation that can safely be ignored.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

Where drama-seeking tourists will be bored.

Placelandia! We celebrate

That here nice guys can get a date

And nobody is told they must comply.

Where everybody owns a Glock

And Fox exec Rupert Murdoch

Would not have had to cancel Firefly.

Placelandia! We celebrate

A place mostly devoid of hate,

Where legs just shave themselves if given time.

We hope you have enjoyed this song

And pop stars didn’t sing too long

Before the very easy ending rhyme.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

It’s a pretty snazzy kinda joint.

Placelandia! Placelandia!

Okay, okay, okay! We get the point!

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Filed under Lyrics, Poems, Songs

When You’re Flying In 16A

Like the great beluga whale

It weighs a couple tons,

Is pale as homemade yogurt,

And very seldom runs,

It makes a high-pitched squealing

When it means to share its views.

It mentions it’s in 16B

And apparently that’s good news?

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The Lord Of The Rings

A while ago

There was a guy

Who dreamed of being

A fiery eye.

We don’t know why

He felt the need,

But we know that

He did succeed.

The problem with

Old fire-eye’s plot

Is that what he wanted

Others did not,

And so he hid

His power away

So after his death

He’d still be okay.

He put that power

In a magical ring

That got stolen by

A greedy king,

And that repeated

Several times

Through fire and snow

And temperate climes.

Then one day

Some fishing midgets

Found that ring

And asked “what ij it?”

One said “mine!”

The other said “no!”

And so the midgets

Came to blows.

The winning midget

Became a beast

Who hid in a cave

Eating Fancy Feast

Until more midgets

Came along,

Stole the ring,

And sang a song.

A few years later

There was peace

And the ring’s new owner’s

Male niece

Got the ring

As a birthday gift,

Met some elves,

And got a lift

To Rivendell

Where it was decided

Fire-eye’s ego

Had the land divided

And that the only

Thing to do

Was to break the ring

Of you-know-who.

The elves said that

The ring must be laid

In the Mordorian lava

In which it was made.

The dwarf said

“That’s a lot of work,”

Hit the ring with his axe

And looked like a jerk.

So midgets and co.

Went on a quest,

They got betrayed

And left the rest,

Wandered alone

To the volcano of doom

Where the trolls and orcs

Drummed “boom, boom, boom.”

While they did

The men, dwarves, and elves

Fought three hours of orc wars

All by themselves,

Had a romantic subplot

With the long-lost human heir

And the elven princess

With the CGI hair.

By now midgets passed fire-eye’s

Most fiery gazes

Then the ring-bearing midget

Had just one of his dazes,

Turned to his friend,

Said “No Sam! The ring’s mine,”

Then dumbass lost his finger

And it all turned out fine.

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An Only-Somewhat-Exaggerated Tale Of Today (Dedicated To Seth)

Today I drove a thousand miles

From WA to San Jose,

With a bunch of flaming morons

Tailgating me the whole way,

Weaving through the traffic

Like quilters yearning for death

All behind a mini cooper

Going 20 (License Plate: IMSETH).

As I recline, safe somehow,

On my Californian bed

A realization formed inside

My woeful weary head.

I-5 South, the freeway

A thousand miles through crazyville

Should better be renamed

The route of all evil.

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True Story Guest Post: The Epic of Hwy 99

Such a travesty is BC Hwy 99I think the guys who built it were blind

Or perhaps were very drunk

This road doesn’t make sense to a duck. 
The road was built for Mario Cart

Level one is 340 degree turns

Level two is curves that lead to un-marked one-lane bridges

Level three add turning trucks

And if that isn’t more than enough 

Level four the deer are suicidal. 

Level five we take away the road signs

Level six adds falling rocks

Level seven adds the rain

Level eight is and 15% grade

Level nine is 10 km/hr on that grade
I don’t want to reach level ten —

Not even the Buddha has that level zen. 
JOFFRE LAKES!

Now it all makes sense!
And at the village intersection 

As the clock strikes midnight, 

We pass the bloody Grim. 

And across a bridge we go 

To be warned of washout conditions. 
I have 99 problems 

And this road is all of them. 

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Time Management

I’ve got a flight

Tomorrow at noon.

It boards at 11:00,

An hour too soon.

I need to be

At the gate by 10:00 an’

That means to be safe

I’ll shoot for 9:07.

To get there by 9:00

I should leave around 8:00

So we’ll say 7:30

In case I run late.

I should set my alarm

To give myself time

To fully prepare

So let’s say 6:09.

When you figure in traffic,

Potential assaults,

The phase of the moon,

And seismological faults

I left yesterday

At 11:08

All the while disappointed 

That I’ll probably be late.

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Zero

Zero is the number

Of hours I slept

Before a 2:00 AM shuttle

To the airport today.

 

Zero is the number

Of friendly cute girls

In the security line

That I met on the way.

 

Zero is the number

Of lightning storms I missed

Flying into Houston

A half hour late

 

Zero is the number

Of minutes I had

To get from my landing

To my connecting flight’s gate.

 

Zero is the number

Of on-time flights departing

In the 40-plane lineup

That the airport had grown.

 

Zero is the number

That shows up in red

In the battery section

Of my cellular phone.

 

Zero’s the number

In military time

That my plane finally landed

At my final city.

 

Zero is the number

Out of one checked bag

That was at the airport

Waiting for me.

 

Zero is the number

Of poems technically written

By me on Tuesday

June 28.

 

Zero is the number

Of f**ks I give

That this hard-fought travel poem’s

Published 12 minutes late.

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