On Father's Day

Why is it so often assumed we outdoorsmen are totally lacking in sophistication and good taste? Every Christmas, Father's Day, and birthday we become the recipients of such gifts as ties decorated with leaping bass, gigantic belt buckles engraved with moose heads, table-lamp bases in the form of huge shotgun shells, toilet seats of clear resin embedded with assorted game sign, and so on. Sure, we get plenty of neat gifts like these, but also a lot of tasteless stuff, too. (From "Mean Gifts" in the book "The Good Samaritan Strikes Again" by Patrick F. McManus)

The hardest, and greatest, thing about buying gifts for dad is that the things they want, and the things they need, are completely unrelated to each other. If we need it, then we obviously don't want it, because it will probably create more work for us. If we want it, then we are clearly racking our brains to come up with some logical use for the thing. That's why they're called gadgets, and that's why we love them.
For me, you can rest assured that after this Father's Day both my lawn and my nose hairs will be expertly trimmed (not by the same gadget).

Natural Instincts

Wild animals seem to be attracted to my house lately. While traveling a female duck found my flower beds near the front walk to be an irresistible locale for her brood. A shallow nest with eight eggs in now sits tucked away behind my twisted cherry tree. Recipes for 100 year old duck eggs keep popping up on my internet browser at the same rate as the amount of duck poo accumulates on my sidewalk. I'm forced to debate within myself which will create the larger mess, a mother duck and her eight babies walking around and pooping in my grass, or the mess of feathers that tend to get everywhere when skinning water fowl.
There are also at least two frogs taking up residence among the flowers. One of them seems to hop at an angle, possibly the result of being in the wrong place (my garden) at the wrong time (while I was digging) or a naturally occurring genetic defect. Unfortunately their legs are not big enough to be worth looking up recipes, the kids have taken a liking to the frogs, and my dog won't eat them.
I have also found snakes, turtles, and rabbits in my yard, as well as seen the occasional coyote strolling along the gutters late at night or early in the morning. Granted, with urban sprawl and the encroachment of man on wildlife habitats there is expected to be some interaction between animal and man. However, there is no standing water in or near my hard to attract the usually wet loving animals. There are no large trees or natural sources of protection that would appeal to an animal as a place to make a home. The only thing I can think of is that they must be attracted to my natural aura. I developed this natural aura as a survival technique to lure animals to my location in order to murder and eat them.
Watch out little bunny rabbit, if you get into my vegetables I'll turn them into a side dish and you into the main course. I really do prefer the taste of rabbit to duck.

Not A Red Headed Child

Check out Red Headed Children for pictures of the latest Little Morty to enter this crazy world.

The Land of the Freaks

Having recently spent upwards of fifty non-consecutive hours traveling America's highways I am amazed at how non-visually stimulating some parts of this country are. I've heard that it was scientifically proven that Kansas is, in fact, flatter than a pancake. I now believe that to be true. I've heard of the long lonely strips of highway passing through the Utah desert. Now, I can say that I've been there myself.
What astounds me are the number of solitary homes one encounters hundreds of miles from the last signs of civilization. A beautiful mansion tucked up neatly into a high mountain canyon. A sweeping ranch house with a 360 degree view of perfectly flat horizon. What's with these people? Did they find some loophole in the "love thy neighbor" commandment? What jobs do they work, and what's the commute like?
These are not your average red-necked American, who given the opportunity will join with several of his siblings and cousins to buy some real estate and place on it their assortment of slightly used mobile homes. It's obvious that these people share a sense of adventure. Why else would you name your community "Tornado Bait" or "100 Year Flood Acres?" These are the remnants of the brave pioneers who forged the settlement of the west. Their mark is still visible in the form of trailer courts on the outskirts of towns like Vail and Aspen. These hardy individuals who resist the offers of their rich neighbors to buy out their land just to get rid of all those rusted out cars and lawn furniture that used to be living room furniture.
Let us all stand up and salute those brave individuals who give country music fans something to make fun of. Let us thank those whose example has led to many a housing community ordinance. Finally, let us honor those who exercise their right to bear arms, possibly the last line of defense against foreign invaders or the land buying tactics of those freaks with money who want to live where only the rednecks can.

Multiple Guesses

With "No Dumb Kids Left Behind" policies being enforced in schools we see more and more evidence that kids are being fully prepared for life. Learning for the test is the way life lessons present themselves, and it's good that our educational system is beginning to match.
How often have we seen one of our favorite fictional characters learn something new, a new skill or a new appreciation for people who are different, only to be able to apply that lesson in the next 30 minutes to two hours. The next week, however, they are back to their same old lovable selves, be they dumb and trusting, or smart and bigoted.
And how do we measure the lessons learned by the youth of today? The time tested multiple guess test. The solutions to all life's problems are easier when you face them equipped with the knowledge multiple guess tests teach. When in doubt pick "B." Unless of course the test was designed by left-handed individuals, in which case "C" is the better than random answer. In true and false, it's much easier to satisfy false, because 99% true is still false. Whenever two solutions look equally plausible, check for an all of the above. Or, if a solution does not present itself right away, none of the above is always viable.
Last week I was presented with a typical life situation. The man with the black and white disco car told me I could either "pay the fine," or go with him "down to the station." Neither of the alternatives seemed overly appealing so I quickly responded with trusty old none of the above. I was soon rewarded with a pair of matching bracelets and ride in a semi-luxurious automobile.
Later, while waiting at a railroad crossing, another multiple guess dilemma arose. Should I A) Stay in the car like a good prisoner B) Continue kicking at the glass dividing the front and back seats hoping that it eventually gives in, or C) Fake a medical emergency and make a run for it once the door was opened?
I never knew that paramedics still had to use the defibrilator paddles even if you insist that you were only faking. Why wasn't that on your test, huh Mr Iowa Test of Basic Skills? Education is leaving people seriously unprepared for life.

Pooping in America

Now I know that this is a tough subject for some people out there. Some people would have others believe that they do not go at all, or that the side effects are in some way different. We all go. Even famous people like the Queen of England and Darth Vader have to go. Granted, you and I have never gone on a solid gold throne, nor had our effects whisked away into the vacuum of space, but the process is more or less the same.
Training for this event, however, is a whole separate event from the previously covered topic of Making Pee-Pees in the Potty. The locale is the same. The processes are similar. But much like the shot put and the hundred meter high hurdles both take place at track meets, different types of training are required.
In the case of my daughter, Little Girl Morty, the training also involves stories. Not like bed time stories which generally are told to a youngster who is in the process of going to bed, but background stories, with personalities assigned, by her.
Some are mommies. Some are daddies. There are several smaller children. Some are scared to go under water. Some run and hide. Some of them, the type I like the least, don't want to leave home and just sort of hang around the exit.
Like a good movie, whose characters we've come to know and care about, there is always the sad farewell. We all have to say good-bye sometimes. Little Girl Morty has to say good-bye every time. The real silver lining is that eventually I will no longer have to hear these stories nor say good-bye to these precious little souls. Until then, I will sit at the ready, just glad that we made it in time because the only worse than saying good-bye is cleaning up after.

Saving Daylight

Shortest of the year
Today we lost an hour
Except in AZ

Granted, the idea of Daylight Savings Time was ingenious when it was first developed. But does it have relevancy today? No longer do most Americans wake to the sound of a rooster crowing. I, in fact, generally wake up well before dawn cracks to begin my daily grind (apparently I work in a mill of some kind that has grinding that needs doing.) I am often awake after dusk as well, which necessitates my burning of the scented candle at both ends. (Break the glass, then light the bottom.) Occasionally I will even burn the midnight oil while cooking the midnight bacon.
But with all this new fangled electric lighting things they got these days I hardly see the need to wind the hands on grandpa's clock just to realign with someone's idea of when the day begins. I do find it annoying to have to unplug the VCR and plug it in again at noon so that it blinks the correct time again.
But why am I so tired on the shortest day of the year?

A Load of Bull

I purchased 120 pounds of manure today. It was my first time. I walked past the manure display several times before adding the bags to my cart. To the bottom of my cart. I had to make sure no one was watching me buy the waste product of a lesser mammal. If I ran into anyone I knew I would have claimed that the manure was not mine, but happened to be on the cart when I picked it up. The manure was surprisingly less expensive than I had imagined. If I collected the stuff and put it in bags I would charge an arm and a leg for it, but the stuff is cheap. I guess it has to do with supply and demand. Lots of supply. Less than an overwhelming amount of demand.
I quickly returned home with my waste product and buried it in the ground before the neighbors saw. What would people think if they saw Big Morty carrying in manure for his own personal use? Especially if they knew that I had paid for the stuff.
I can only dream of the day when an honorable man can walk through a store with his head held high and his cart full of manure. No more sideways glances from the guys in the dirty magazine aisle. No more shaking heads from the obese folks in the candy section. No more muffled giggles from the old ladies trying on spandex. No more. That will be the day... the day before... I buy manure openly again. Till then, I'll go on buying it secretly, and denying it to any one who asks.

Scheduled Maintenance

Let me start by saying the whole car industry is evil. Well, maybe not entirely evil, but at least corrupt, greedy, dishonest, disgustingly obese, and possessed of poor personal hygiene. There's the whole issue of being in bed with the oil industry, destroying the environment, and keeping prices artificially high while suppressing emergent technology, but no one cares about that. I'm talking about the lies they tell you regarding scheduled maintenance.
The biggest money getter is the oil change. Apparently oil is some magical fluid that makes your car run, and here I thought gas made it run. Whole countries have gone to war, reportedly over that very substance, oil. It seems that it has to be imported from some crazy desert place in order to pour it into my car. The high cost of oil seems to be ruining the whole economy, even the price of gas is affected by oil costs. I don't see how one is related to the other, one being clear and the other being brownish black. But why do I have to change the oil. I don't change the gas when it gets used up. I just add more whenever the light comes on. I save money and stick it to the oil companies and the car dealerships by adding my own oil. It's the same as the gas, just add more when the light comes on. You know it's full when you see excess oil coming out around the edges of the dipstick thing.
The next big kicker is rotating tires. Supposedly tires need to be rotated every 5,000 miles to make sure they wear evenly. I'm no dummy, but I think I know what my tires need. Rotation is what they do every time I drive. You see, tires are circles, and as they spin they rotate themselves, and the wear is distributed evenly around the circumference of the tire. Right now the tires on my car are getting good and worn down, just like the tires the Nascar guys use. For a while the right side of the tires was wearing a little faster, but I fixed that problem by taking more left turns, and by driving backwards on alternating days of the week. Now they are getting extra traction from the steel belts that really grip well on muddy roads and in ice. That's one of the benefits you won't get if you keep shelling out money to the man and pay to have your tires rotated for you.
The worst thing that I do have to pay for, however, is the battery. You'd think that with all the new technology in electronics that they would figure out how to make a rechargeable battery. I hate having to change the battery every time my car dies. It's a good thing I have a lot of trunk space, I like to keep five or six batteries on hand so I only have to buy new ones once a week.

Rewards

It's been said that you shouldn't bribe children with candy, ice cream, or treats. However, the use of rewards for good behavior is perfectly acceptable. The same is true in many other aspects of life as well. Often times I "reward" police officers for doing such a fine job of pulling me over. Later, I'll often have the opportunity to "reward" a judge for running such an efficient court room. Your guard and cell mates will also enjoy "rewards" for their behavior. The trickiest part is convincing the warden to let you bring a freezer full of ice cream cones into jail with you.

Weekend Haikus

Unseasonalby
Summer like weather today
So I washed my car

Fire up the bar-b
Something about a burn ban
Watch my house burn down

Cheap burgers from Sam
Grilled to a hockey puck state
Ummm, extra greasy

Soggy hot dog buns
Condiments splash on the wall
To the tub with you

Who Wants to be a Billionaire?

So I saw that the Forbes list of billionaires came out recently. It's pleasing that so many hard working people are able to work and make something for themselves in our capitalistic world economy. It's been commented that these folks should be giving more to the poor to close the gap between the haves and the have nots. What I see with most of them is their large business empires that employ millions, and turn them into haves. Granted, some of them made their money by less than ethical means (internet gambling) but they all get their just rewards (not being able to return to the United States.)
My personal favorite new billionaire is Mr Dyson, the vacuum guy. If you invent a vacuum that sucks no matter what, you deserve to be a billionaire. Talking with people who claim to know a thing or two about physics, it appears that Mr Dyson has managed to enclose a black hole into every one of his vacuum cleaner machines. Now, instead of being sucked into little bags full of lint and pet hair, our household floor waste will be transported to another galaxy, possibly forming the super dense core of matter needed for another big boom creation event. An entire galaxy created from lint and pet hair, that's a billion dollar idea.

Fancy Restaurants

The fancier the restaurant you go to, the longer the wait will be. They may have plenty of open tables available, but you can't use them until you've waited long enough to appreciate how nice the restaurant is. Even dressing nice like the rest of the patrons will not accelerate your time to the seat.
Just the other day I went to a nice restaurant for lunch with some friends. You could tell it was nice because the sign in the front said "Shoes and Shirts required" and the smoking section was screened off from the civil folk by some chicken wire and wagon wheels. The decorations in the place were just another of the niceties that added to the ambiance.
I was sure we were in for some good fixin's based on the chalkboard sign listing the specials o' the day. Blackened fish and mystery meat. I asked if it was blackened catfish, but couldn't get a straight answer, just like in any swanky French place.
When our waitress came around she introduced herself using her real name. We could tell because her overalls had the same name stitched across the pocket. She brought us out some salads and cold drinks while they fixed our lunches.
We never made it to the main course. You come to expect a certain level of quality in a fine eating establishment, but when they brought out my salad I bit into, and the bread was all stale and hard.

Spring is in the Air

As I was working in my yard the other day (removing dog poo from it) something caught my eye. In the sea of brown was splash of color. It wasn't the yellow-brown of my grass, the red-brown of the dirt on my car, or any other type of brown the dog may have deposited. It was green. The green of the first buds of the cherry tree, and the first brave shoots of the tulips exploding forth in all their majesty. As I sat pondering the beauty of spring I contemplated the renewal of life, the precarious balance of nature, and the passing of the seasons.
I was beginning to contemplate world peace and was a few seconds from realizing a truly simple yet flawless plan for implementing it, when I was assaulted with another of the sounds of spring. The tornado siren. Thoughts of the Wizard of Oz pushed out all the constructive ideas that had been building, and I was forced to begin assessing my chances of survival and looking for cover. When I was safely tucked away inside the hall closet with a box of cereal and can of warm sprite my mind began working again. It was a bright and clear spring day. Tornado season hasn't started yet. It was exactly 12:00 on a Saturday. Standard time for the tornado siren tests. What a relief.
Now I knew all along that there really wasn't a tornado, ha ha. I just like to test myself to check my response time. Once again, I performed superbly, not being burdened by having to shove the children inside the closet because they were safely vacationing in a tornado free part of the country. But for now, I can only have my stop watch at the ready for the next time the siren sounds, and I get to cram the kids into the smallest room in the house for an undetermined amount of time. At least until I realize that it was only a test.

Leave of Absence

You may have noticed a gap in postings on Big Morty Say. You, my loyal readers, have a right to ask the cause of my negligence. Go ahead and ask...
Alright, don't twist my arm.
I have been lazy this week. I've mostly sat around watching movies and playing video games. My diet has consisted of ready to heat meat products and cold cereal. I've barely seen the sun and have been verbally abusive to my dog.
There you go.
What? You don't buy that? You thinking I'm making something up to cover some sort of top secret mission that I've been sent on?
Givin Big Morty's reputation as a world wide adventurer and action hero I'd have to agree with you. However, I can neither confirm nor deny my whereabouts during the last week. All I can say is that the world is still safe, thanks to... somebody... whose name... I can't tell you.
The End.

The Smackdown

All right, I admit it. I watch professional wrestling. Now, now. Before you start to mock me for enjoying a "fake" sport I must defend myself. I know the matches are choreographed, and the winners ultimately decided by someone outside the ring, but it's fun to watch. The so called drama as one wrestler challenges another. The suspense as one competitor hovers on the edge of death, only to come back suddenly and lift a three hundred pound man over his head for an amazing body slam and the victory. You just don't get that with real sports.
Now, here's the kicker. Professional wrestling is not really a sport. It's a comedy/drama with a sports like theme. Just like Scrubs is a comedy with a hospital theme. Could you take the same writers out of the hospital into another situation and get comedy? Yes. Could you take the superstars of professional wrestling, put them in goofy situations and get the same effect? Yes. But these muscle bound barbarians are more comfortable in an environment where they can release the built up roid rage and entertain at the same time.
To you snooty comedy elite who only enjoy a good British comedy I say look at Monty Python. You call that high class comedy?

For Old Times' Sake

I saw some skating
While watching the olympics
And I fell asleep

Where was my dinner
When I walked through the front door?
Still in the freezer

Look in your attic
And if you smell something bad
Don't open the box

On Winter Safety 2

Pursuant to Monday's article on winter safety, I've been asked to provide more of my unique insights on the topic. When the governor of Oklahoma approached me to provide an all encompassing winter driving course for the residents of his state I was honored, but not at all surprised. When I drive I always do so the safest manner possible. Everyday is a training day, and I always seek out opportunities to test myself and my skills. This is what I taught to my fellow Okies, and I now present a few techniques for you who may be afflicted with the occasional snow that you must drive in.
People say that if you end up in a skid you have to turn into the skid. What does that mean? Most people don't know because they aren't in a skidding situation often enough to be prepared. I say provide those opportunities for yourself. Most people think that a vacant parking lot or a deserted road is the best place to practice new driving techniques. This is not the case. How often do new driving situations present themselves in a vacant parking lot or on a deserted road? That's right, never. Practice driving where you drive. Rush hour traffic after a bad snow storm is the absolute best place to drive fast and erratically, putting you in situations where skidding can occur. Bald tires covered in oil can also be used for out of season skid recovery training. Remember practice makes perfect.
Safety tip: When being transported from the accident site in an ambulance or police car do not attempt to take control of the vehicle in order to demonstrate your proficiency to the supposedly "highly trained" emergency vehicle operators.

On the Inventive Spirit

I had the rare opportunity to judge an invention fair. Oklahoma kids in 1st through 9th grades presented their new ideas for products that will change the world. I cannot invent things because I'm old and have been told that some things are impossible. Were I still young and creative I would be out inventing things everyday.
There were many great inventions that I cannot describe because I have great respect for the intellectual property of those children, and some of them I couldn't describe even if the product were in front of me with a detailed diagram. There were some inventions that worked, and some that didn't. The vast majority were a simple deviation on an already existent product. I don't know why the kids thought making readily available products more expensive and less functional was a good idea, but they're kids, and not polluted by old age and pessimism.
The real secret revealed in this invention fair was the existence of magic and enchanted little elves. You might think a shoe box with sticks glued to it would be incapable of doing anything worthwhile, at least not worth the $100 price tag attatched to it. You would be wrong though, that little box contained enchanted little elves that, after purchasing, become your personal slaves, and will do all your bidding. Or at least some light cleaning and plumbing repair.
When you first see a ruler glued to a measuring cup you probably think to yourself that maybe the kid didn't put a whole lot of thought into his project, and you'd be right. When you can harness the power of magic you don't have to put a lot of thought into these sort of things. You'll be wandering around using multiple tools to measure everyday things, while millions of grade schoolers will be using their magical measuring tools to... measure... things... whatever grade schoolers need to measure these days.
Doubt not, but be believing. We haven't lost our inventive edge to the Asian upstarts. They don't even believe in elves.

On Winter Safety

When my rain gutters filled with water from yesterday's slight warming trend they failed to drain due to the ice buildup in the down spout. A filled rain gutter is a worthless rain gutter and fails to fulfill the ends of its existence. As a proud homeowner I could not allow this situation tarnish my neighborhood reputation as a home repair expert. My reputation is still nursing a few blemishes from the garage door incident two weeks ago (see On Being Big Morty).
But how to resolve the situation. Heat. Heat is the natural enemy to all things cold, such as ice, snow, slush, and frozen water. My 500,000 BTU laser heater has not worked properly since loaning it to my rich neighbor who actually pays people to come do work on his house, so I had to resort to more primitive means. I saw my World War II surplus flame thrower gathering dust in the corner of the garage. Does wet soffit burn? Unfortunately the flame thrower was out of gas. Where was my acetylene torch? That option seemed much safer than the widespread amount of heat offered by the flame thrower. But would it be enough to do the job efficiently? Yes, concentrated amounts of heat applied to a heat conducting metal is an efficient way of melting whatever is in your rain gutters. You also get the benefit of creating several new exit points for the water, thus eliminating the problems caused by a plugged downspout.
Safety tip: If you are standing on the roof melting away the frozen edge of snow that seems to be holding the rest of the snow on the roof--be sure to point torch away from body when riding the avalanche to the ground below.

rain gutters
rain-gutters
ranters
ranter's
nutters
Edit...
Revert to "raingutters"

rain gutter
rain-gutter
ranter
rainwater
Rainier
Edit...
Revert to "raingutter"

rain gutter
rain-gutter
ranter
rainwater
Rainier
Edit...
Revert to "raingutter"

gathering
gating
bathing
gashing
lathing
Edit...
Revert to "gatheing"

soffit
soft
softer
Soviet
soviet
Edit...
Revert to "soffet"

Unfortunately
Unfortunate
Unfortunates
Edit...
Revert to "Unfortunatley"

thrower
tower
shower
rower
Thor
Edit...
Revert to "thower"

acetylene
Aztlan
acetone
acidly
castling
Edit...
Revert to "acetlyn"

On Computing Power

mention that when shopping for a new computer the 3.5in floppy-drive is optional, not standard. The 5.25in floppy drive is t-shirts. I should note that the new video card will have more RAM than second computer could have dreamed of, and could single handedly beat the binary out of first computer. I mightI've recently been shopping for a new computer. The one I've decided on will cost about the same as the computer I received when I graduated from high school 8000 years ago (in technology years) but will have slightly different technical specs. I don't know what technical specs do for the average computer users, but I was told that if I want to play my Lord of the Rings computer game I would need better technical specs. To illustrate a few of the differences in technical specs I will compare first computer to new computer. First computer had 32mb of RAM (we upgraded from 16), a 1.7G hard drive, a 28.8bps modem, and a 16X CD-ROM drive. I was the envy of all the tech-geeks at school. Second computer was substantially better, and could be called in its time "totally awesome" (Utah residents will remember the annoying commercials). New computer (when it finally arrives) will have a sufficiently high amount of RAM that adding an additional 32mb would not be enough to notice, and would in fact be rounded out of existence when reporting the total speed. The total memory will be the equivalent of 150 first computers, and the modem is only there as an after thought in case of emergencies requiring "dial-up" technology. CD-ROM drives are so antiquated that CD-ROM owners are often harassed by gang members wearing "DVD +/-/rw/hi-fi/magic/8track" only available at your finer archeological suppliers.
Are we being forced to pay an "upgrade tax" to an evil shadow government who secretly runs all of technology? Why aren't software companies making 3.1 compatible programs anymore? Are we being mocked as we look out our windows by Linux users who maintain an air of superiority despite their lack of easy to find compatible peripherals? What do all these technical specs mean?
You just can't conquer the world on 8000 year old technical specs. The refresh rate is just too slow.

The End of an Era, or the Beginning

An era at end
This is Morty's last haiku
'Til next haiku week

Well kids, we had a great run. That is officially the most haikus ever created by anyone in the history of the world. You can go ahead and check the facts on that, you'll see that what Big Morty says can be taken as gospel truth. (Please do not form any cult religions based on the Book of Big Morty.)
I hope everyone was able to see the thread of current events running through the haikus. It's much harder to make long and thought out commentary in just three lines. That may be a little misleading. It implies that my commentaries are "thought out," which is not entirely true. Was Einstein's theory of annoying relatives "thought out," or was it just something that occurred to him as he was reading the Sunday comics? Did Benjamin Franklin "think out" the Declaration of Independence? Of course not, it was somebody else. The point is, that sometimes lightning strikes, and sometimes ideas are pulled out of places that are better off not mentioned. It must be hard to be one of those people who struggle with ideas. All the clutter and irrelevancies that end up in print and visual media are examples of the lack of clarity most people experience. But not on Big Morty Says. Here there is truth spurting forth, unable to be contained, being given to the people for their enlightenment. And so I say unto you all, Come forth and drink from the fountain of knowledge recorded on the virtual pages of this blog.

Special note to my minions-
World domination has begun.

Long Weekends

Four days without work
Thanks to Washington's birthday
And going AWOL

Too bad it's cold out
I wanted to go camping
But I'm a big wuss

Leftover candy
Tempting me with its sweetness
In heart shaped cardboard

Haiku week is long
And not getting many laughs
Tomorrow I'm done

One Happy, One an Excuse

A clown in red pants
Dances with a short giraffe
In the new freak show

When my back hurts me
And my wife is throwing up
I only write two

Haiku of the Future

Oh, bureaucracy
With dozens of number ones
What do I do first?

Oh no, I've been shot
The king was displeased with me
But he will amend

Where are we going
On these roller coaster rides
That we call our lives?

Wherefore art thou, St Val?

Much like a hal-mark
Love's wal-mart-i-fication
Now in haiku form

Where has the love gone
When we can no longer give
Swift kicks to the head

Try capoeira
A Brazilian dancing fight
Woo the one you love

A Haiku for Your Love, or Lack Thereof

You made me pancakes
I did the dishes after
Thank you for breakfast

I love to see you
In the morning when I wake
My beautiful girl

Flowers and candies
Neither can last for all time
But my love, it will

Three Unrhymed Lines

I just made this up
But people think it is art
So there you have it

Heard anything new?
If you like commentary
Check out Robert's blog

Cheese is made from milk
So are ice cream and yogurt
But cookies are not

Hope to fix the door
The garage door has fallen
I broke Lightyear's arm

Haikus are the best
Limericks are too easy
Sonnets are too hard

Is it next week already?

I like to wear pants
They keep my legs toasty warm
Sometimes I go sans

Idaho 'taters
Oklahoma tornadoes
Herb and garlic, yum

On Big Morty Says
You can learn lots of new things
You don't need to know

The Security of qijibgo

I love the random letter combinations that are presented as "Word Verification" anytime I post or comment on a blog. Granted, this requirement certainly deters spam comments sent from enslaved computers programmed by roving bands of java-beasts, but it also deters genuinely interested people who are not very good at deciphering squigly letters. Now I'm a college educated (not accredited in all states) fellow, and I passed the mandatory reading exam before receiving my diploma (a test put in place due to the large number of illiterates walking around with journalism degrees these days), but I'm not good at letter interpretation either. I have trouble reading my own words when I somehow manage to turn on the italics function. Hey, knock that off. Stupid computer.
There was not real point to writing any of this. If you've continued this far its probably because A) You know me and feel sorry for me, B) Your looking for clues that may lead to the identity of my killer, or C) You're searching for the origin of the phenomenon that will follow this announcement: All next week's posts will be HAIKUS!
That's right. The highest form of Japanese poetry will come to life on the pages of Big Morty Says! Practice your crazy letter reading skills because you'll want to be the first to post comments when you see the quality of Japanese poetry that I can produce when trying to meet an artificial objective that I've set for myself. Yipee!
To my loyal followers, thanks for reading. World domination will begin after Haiku Week.

How to Teach a Child Anything - Techniques Guaranteed to Work

1. Um...
2. Let's see now.
3. There's got to be one.
4. Somebody wrote a book about something.
5. No, it didn't work.
6. With kids shorter than you you need to ...
7. I must be forgetting something.
8. Maybe you could try...
9. Uh...
10. Never mind.

And that concludes this public service campaign. Please feel free to use any of the above listed techniques, share them with your friends, and claim them as your own. Again, all of these are 100% guaranteed to work in every situation with any child.
You're welcome.

On Making Pee-Pees in the Potty

Today my daughter re-began potty training. She had started at the same time as her older brother, but soon we discovered that she wasn't in it for the satisfaction of using the toilet. What she wanted was the tremendous amounts of false praise that we heaped on her sitting on the toilet. Sitting on the throne with no results, followed by an accident within minutes of re-pantsing, forced us to abandon our attempts at early training.
I was informed of her progress by a phone call at work. Two year olds don't grasp the concept of wireless communication, so she yelled as loud as she could to ensure that I heard. After the call, my comrades in arms congratulated me for having someone (they assumed it was my wife) go pee-pee in the potty.
The topic of conversation soon moved to something we in the military refer to as "Operation Golden Flow." Owing to problems of drug abuse in the military (problems peaked in the 70s, and levels of abuse are very low today) people are randomly chosen to donate their urine for drug testing. Now this isn't your standard pee in a cup behind closed doors test. This test is monitored. Some unlucky soul gets the pleasure of being the pee-pee monitor, and must watch as each individual (of the same sex) urinates into a translucent container which has remained visible from the time it was handed to the pee-er until it is resealed and handed back to the monitor. Stage fright is a common enough occurrence in a crowded rest room, but to know, absolutely and for certain, that someone is checking you out, it's a lot of pressure to perform. There is no reading material on the wall to serve as a distraction. Attempts at conversation are weak and awkward. One must simply be extra hydrated and hope that the sheer hydraulic pressure is enough to overcome what would otherwise be an excuse to exit the restroom, pretend to get a drink, and then reenter and hope no one recognized you.
Maybe it would have been better to stay in the diapers.

On Geographic Relativity

I seem to remember in high school being shown a series of maps drawn by residents of different regions. Each artist (I can't really call them topographers) drew their own community grossly out of proportion to the rest of the country/world. Millions of people have no concept of space and time beyond their own realm of influence. It always boils down to the "Oh, you're from (insert city/state/country/continent), do you know (insert randomly chosen name from phone book), he lives in (insert name of city/state/country/continent on same planet as previous)?" These questions, while offered in the hope of building common ground, serve to illustrate the relative ignorance of some people. Questions about people within the same city, assuming the city does not have a population of greater then 2 million, shows minimal ignorance. Asking a Norwegian if they know your "friend" from North Korea (they are on the same land mass after all) shows a great deal of ingnorance about geographic relations between countries. Does this ignorance show signs of some underlying racism? The idea that the place I call home is so much larger or better than anywhere else may be the root cause of international conflict. When we start with little common ground, and then increase the rift by belittling (however unintentionally) those we are trying to get along with, we soon degrade to the lowest common denominator.

So what is the lesson learned that I'm trying to pass along to any who will listen, I don't know, tell me what you think.

New Terror Threats

Here's some news you won't find on the Communist News Network. Known terrorists Ali a Babwa and Al Jafar are plotting attacks against major US theme parks this spring. We know this because of "illegal" DVD tapping being done by our "security-minded" government. It's reported that Al Jafar has already obtained a high ranking position in the management of one of the largest fantasy theme parks in the world. Ali a Babwa is expected to lead a squad of trained hit men posing as a parade through one of the mock towns set up for children to view their favorite Princesses. Rumors report some kind of witch doctor or magical being supporting Ali a Babwa and Al Jafar in their nefarious plots.
Please email this posting to all your friends who may be planning a vacation this year. I certainly won't be the one who had this information and did not forward it to my friends who are now dead.
This is serious.

On Pseudonyms

Some weeks ago I participated in a consumer research survey. I did so because the letter indicated that my opinions were valuable (a statement backed up with two crisp one dollar bills) and would help determine what my local stores would try to sell to me, and because they would respect my privacy by not selling my name to direct marketing firms. I answered the questions honestly (I really don't want to see liver flavored gum or dog scented air fresheners) but did not spell my name correctly. Much of the junk mail that I receive is because my name ended up on some list provided by any number of prize-offering name gatherers. In the course of several weeks I've received promotional offers and club memberships all addressed to Bog Marti. Now I have the great privilege of knowing who the supposedly "privacy respecting" research company sold my name to. Today I received mailing address labels in the name of Bog Marti from a company that I have enough respect for that I won't name them here (it was not the children's hospital.) Now I feel like Bog Marti is a legitimate entity who should continue to receive free magazine subscriptions and possibly run for public office. Watch out direct mail spammers, when Bog Marti goes to office he is going to regulate.

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