How art thou crazy? Let me count the ways…

Of a picnic, thou art short of sandwiches, thus.
And in thy belfry resideth many bats.
Thy engine runneth, but hath no one behind the wheel.
Thou art a man of many cases; of head, and basket, and nut.
And verily misplaced by thee hath been thy marbles.
How lost thou art in space.
How lost is thy plot.
Away with the faerie folk thou hast flown.
In a canoe, thou art, but sadly missing the essential oars.
Thy faithful rocking chair hath deposited thee thus on the floor.
A cage of many pads is the place for thee,
Since thou believeth thyself to be a tweeting bird:
The Great Orange Crested Trump Tit.

GRACE

You are filled with grace,

An effortless respect,

To act,

With great affect,

To interface,

So that all you meet,

Feel raised up,

You fill their cup,

You wash their feet,

Albeit as a metaphor, 

But they feel more,

For having met you,

Having known you,

You improve their lives, 

Simply by,

Your acts of kindness,

Your refusal to,

Accept daily blindness,

Your example,

Is not lost on me,

I wish,

That all of us could be,

Our better selves,

The we, we should,

The inner good, 

For by your actions,

You show and say,

That Love,

It is the only way,

We can’t walk,

In everyone’s shoes,

But just like you, 

We can choose,

To understand, 

To use the will,

 At our command,

To testify,

Crave and demand,

A better way, 

So that one fine day, Yes one fine day……….     ❤

DESCARTES’ LOOPHOLE 

According to our friend René,

The fact we think was his small way,

To prove that we exist,

Bur lately I am of the mind,

That thinking is on the decline,

Perhaps an angle that Descartes missed, 

We used to think, therefore we were,

Deep and philosophical for sure,

We used to have a hamster on our wheel,

Kind of sad, but I’m not whining,

In fact I see a silver lining,

Just maybe none of this craziness is real!

Monday’s Child – Updated

I felt the need to put my updated spin on the old classic:

Monday’s child is narcissistic, 

Tuesday’s child is caustic and cryptic,

Wednesday’s child, picks up the slack, 

Thursday’s child, bit of a throwback,

Friday’s child can’t distinguish fiction,

Saturday’s child is prone to addiction, 

The child born on Sunday is very rarely blue, but for the most part, hasn’t really a clue!

The Swedish Flag

Bang on.

Paddy K

This Friday there was an awful truck attack in Stockholm, where four people died. I wasn’t personally affected, even though it was just up the road from where I work, although I know several people who were scarily close to it. For the people who did lose somebody, it must be the worse thing in the world, and I can’t even grasp it.

A horrible situation, although on the day after I made damn sure to get into town and do the whole carry-on-as-normal thing. If life doesn’t go on, then we’ve lost.

2017-04-07 17.07.59 The view from my office after the attack

A few positive things came from the attack, though. One was the immediate and professional response from the police and emergency services, closing down the city and catching the guy a few hours later. The police were getting hugs and flowers from people all weekend, which was great to see in usually-reserved…

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I’m All Out of Eggs

To be sung to the tune of, “I’m All Out of Love” by Air Supply. 

I’m all out of eggs,
I’m so lost without you.
There’s nothing to make.
Oh, what will I do?
I’m all out of eggs
And the bread is all moldy.
The bacon is gone,
And the corn flakes are soggy.
I’m all out of eggs,
Won’t somebody save me?
Oh, what would I do,
For some biscuits and gravy?
The oatmeal has bugs.
Can’t have any porridge.
I’m even eat that.
Though, I think it’s horrid. 
I’m all out of eggs,
And I’m so very hungry.
Oh, fuck it, let’s go,
Get an Egg McMuffin, again. 

Welcome To The Apocalypse

 

There’s them that make news
Them that make fake news
Then there’s fake fake news
That’s called satire
Sometimes it’s hard to tell till you come down to the wire,
But it’s no longer true that where there’s smoke there’s fire,
Before you share or shout better hold your horses,
Time to teach our children in their classes and courses,
Check your sources! Check your sources!

Things are turning quickly now,
The show is underway,
How long it’s gonna last,
Well really none of us can say,
We came in with a big bang,
Will we go out that way,
Come get your free tickets,
For the coming Judgement Day,

Welcome to the Apocalypse,
Check out the disturbing view,
14 billion years at our fingertips,
Now we’re about to see things through,
One good thing with the Apocalypse,
I get to spend all the last days with you…..

You’re gonna see things you never thought you’d see,
Things are gonna be the way you never thought they’d be,
Don’t believe what you read, or see on tv,
In an Orwellian world, only the chained are free,

Welcome to the Apocalypse,
Check out the disturbing view,
14 billion years at our fingertips,
Now we’re about to see things through,
One good thing with the Apocalypse,
I get to spend all the last days with you…..

Heads are tales and the tables have been turned,
Can’t trust any of the things that you’ve learned,
To save this village, it’s got to be burned,
The die is cast, the courtroom is adjourned,

Welcome to the Apocalypse,
Check out the disturbing view,
14 billion years at our fingertips,
Now we’re about to see things through,
One good thing with the Apocalypse,
I get to spend all the last days with you,

One good thing with the Apocalypse,
I get to spend all the last days with you

MORE THAN THAT 

Go on, emasculate me,
Remove my masculinity, 
If that’s all that you see,
Because I’m more than that,

My nationality? Just where I come from,
A part of me, not the sum,
Shouldn’t be a distraction, 
Because I’m more than that, 

The colour of my skin?
This package I’m in?
Doesn’t show what’s within,
Because I’m more than that,

Many parts to my whole,
Not a one has control,
But love in my heart and soul,
Is where I’m really at.

MIGHT NEED THAT LATER

MIGHT NEED THAT LATER

He’d say ”see ya in the funnies”,
And then he’d try to make one,
He could never resist,
Even the worst pun,
Kept all the rubber bands,
From his Globe & Mail,
And drawers full of clothes,
That he bought on sale,

He had so many kids,
Didn’t always know their names,
He’d call’em all George and Henry,
When they’d all play games,
He was always kinda short,
Even shorter in the end,
No one ever doubted,
Shirley was his best friend,

Yeah Pappa’s gone on
To gates so pearly,
No doubt St.Peter said
you’re a little bit early”
To which Pappa woulda said,
I’m here to see my Shirley”,

Knew his way around his tools,
And a welding torch,
In the old days he’d sit,
With a guitar on a porch,
Always a kind word,
To the cashier and waiter,
And kept every little thing,
Cuz he might need it later,

Sometimes he’d disappear,
In his room or on a ship,
He even disappeared
On a Las Vegas trip,
But we’d never ever worry,
Cuz we’d always know,
We could find him somewhere,
In the casino,

His emotions were never hung out on his sleeve,
Wasn’t quick to say what he didn’t believe,
He liked to joke and tease, could be an instigator,
He kept his love on a shelf,
Cuz he might need that later……