Hi and welcome to the Attic, I'm Frankenberry of said Blog Title and I write of just my everyday here, sometimes funny, sometimes heartfelt, sometimes angry, sometimes funny again because, well, who don't like funny, thoughts on getting older and sometimes stuff that's just kinda shit. I pen and sing the occasional parody tune and other songs, sometimes I even get a little bit poetic or short story-etic or something like that. If you're joining me here I thank you, but just mind your head and feet and keep an eye out for my little Bella and Cricket The Blind as well as the memories of Raspberry (Razzy), Mimi the Quirky, of Blink The Lil' Kit, Grayson the Mighty, Shoes the Big Orange, Shana-Girl, Benny Good Man Benny Brown, Merlin & Bob. Wouldn't want you step on them or anything … 'cause then I might just have to throw you down the stairs … damned humans.
So a meme from a friend of mine, same guy who inspired my Oopma Loompa tune from a few months ago, Damn you Drew and your meme inspirations!!! Something for the season. Fucking scary rabbits.
Hey Spirit Store guy, how are ya? Happy season right? Yeah thanks, all good here … what I’m looking for is something in a sorta homicidal vein for my kid … I know huh? They grow up so fast and want to kill you so quickly and in so many different ways, well not too quickly, they wanna see the pain and the anguish but I thought I’d stop in here before I go down in the basement and scrounge around grandma’s old things, though I should move her … them … her things … up to the attic, it can get a little damp down there and that tends to smell. Much better in a dry air.
Oh, great thanks … No, airline attendant isn’t quite what I was looking for, but wait, does it come with a concealed knife or a bomb? No? Ok … Oh really? Peppermint Patty? Is it pointy? Ya know, with a stick? Peppermint Pointy Patty? No? It’s just that her friends can be pretty particular about pointy sticks that’s all … I know, she’s at that difficult age right? What? You too? (laughs) kids huh? Really? Fairy princess? It’s a good choice, I’m sure she’ll be the cutest of hit at the cul-de-sac, well, until she gets to old man Johnson’s place, never turn left by the way. What? Oh nothing, just remembering last year though the cops say it’s still on ongoing investigation so there is that.
Well listen, I appreciate the time, forgive me for wasting yours … what? Something in the back? It’s pointy? Oh I knew I liked you from the get go, Gabriel is it? Sorry, excuse my stare, the name tags can be a bit difficult for me these days and I left my hourglass … glasses in the car.
Since my move up the Albany way here (Schenectady) back in August, I’ve been a pretty happy fella. I get to actually see my Sis on a daily basis which is huge as when it comes to the best of peoples and best of friends you can’t top my Sis, she is a sanity for me when sanity can seem to be a bit elusive, not just phone calls from Lilly when I was first allowed the 21st century and how cool phone calls from behind the wheel could be …
“You’re calling me from your car again aren’t you?”
“Yep”
“Do you have anything relevant or pressing to talk to me about?”
“Nope”
“Hanging up now … and eyes on the road by the way brother”
“Gotcha”
… and I get to hang with my nephews for conversations at the dining room table or at the living room couch I would never have had otherwise, however briefly, and wonder of how cool they is and remembrances of when I was also 18 or 24 years old and was my own cool “is” ssszzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzx (hold on … cat … zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz tired too girlfriend, but not right now kid, working here Cricket) but there is one thing I miss from my before here days. My production studio on a Friday night and working new lyrics and new sings to whatever my latest song parody might be.
Now, not that I couldn’t still do my studio thing but that was always just a half hour home. It’s two hours now, and when the end of a Friday comes it’s, well, a Friday and I just end up being too tired to spend an extra hour or so singin’ and editin’ and then add that commute, so I’ve been searching my older tunes as tired should still be no excuse for points not made, though I ookkkkkkkkkknjm (sorry, cat again) …
… though I have a lot of them, a lot of tunes, points, songs, a shitload actually, to still keep up with as things always need be said, even ones already spoke and sung, my parodies, as they are important to me, and find those that are still somewhat relevant, things not overly dated, though Trump is kind of easy that way. He hasn’t changed. He is still a word salad doom and gloom just worse, we’re in the crapper, watch them there immigrants, will steal your silver from right out under your nose, or your job, or your pets and here’s a bunch of made up shit to back that up, no one can save you from imagined despair like me yadda yadda yadda. It’s been on spin for four years and repeated by his blue eyed snake sidekick along with cries of steal and refusals to admit he lost and unwarranted white grievance and promised allusions to future times of freedom and liberty that only he can provide though he and Vance’s definition of liberty is skewed authoritarian and is decidedly not free, Un-American, no matter what Elon or Leon and all his money might say.
So back from August of ’22 and one that can still stand, no time old sensitive or dated.
Like I said, shit hasn’t changed.
To the Mamas and the Poppas “California Dreamin’”
So back from August of ’22 and one that can still stand, no time old sensitive or dated.
Like I said, shit hasn’t changed.
To the Mamas and the Poppas “California Dreamin’”
Autocratic Dreamin’
Democracy’s in straits (Democracy’s in straits)
Getting dire by the day (dire by the day)
New Reich says it’s ok (practically they say)
To let it fade away (let it fade away)
Embracing a big lie’s how (embracing a big lie)
Help usher in a new way (usher in a new way)
—
Autocratic dreamin’ (autocratic dreamin’)
On such a darkened day
—
They stepped off of the ledge
All willing still offer pledge
Into abyss of endless lies (and lustful power cries)
They almost seem to pray (almost seem to pray)
To a god of broken things now (god of broken things)
Broken with real bad intent (and where violence sings)
Autocratic dreamin’ (autocratic dreamin’)
On such a darkened day
… break
All the truth is down (all the truth is down)
To be changed by the day (change it by the day)
Even history (even history)
Won’t stand in the way (won’t stand in the way)
Rewrite it backwards forwards (rewrite it forwards backwards)
To fit just what he might say (fit just what he might say)
Been a bit of a long week here in Frankenland so it was nice to finally get to the end of it, plus it’s also a holiday weekend so a “Sheesh, finally, perfect timing holiday weekend. You know just how to time things to ease an ill …”
Hold up!!!
Hold up what?!
Hold up!!! You don’t get this one.
I don’t what?
You don’t get this one, this day, this holiday.
What? Why the hell not!!!
Dude, really?
Ok (sigh) I’ve never gotten this one, some national holidays consider radio folks to be poor stepchildren but make you still hold off on sending mail till Tuesday, no matter the importance and possible time sensitive nature of that mail you didn’t have for a not send but are now pissed off about, but a boy can dream right? That maybe it might have slipped a crack or two this year?
Nope, radio still hates Columbus … as does real history. Rightly so.
Son of a bitch, well ya know what? I’m just going to not show up on Monday, the holiday day, in protest! So take that and raspberry spitty lip sounds to you!!
Mark you down for burning a PTO day then, you rebel?
Yes please.
Anyway, the long week involved just a Wednesday, a Wednesday morning specifically but it bled into the rest of the week and into a Friday and this now weekend.
I broke down on the NY State Thruway on my way to our stations in Beacon, not a broke down as to finally all of my personal demons having hit their heads on demon ceilings that just had me crying on the side of the thruway curled up in a fetal position clutching grass, but a “I broke down” as to my car, Lilly (though I did consider the fetal position while making emergency phone calls). Seems her alternator had given up the ghost, and just a few miles short of my Newburgh exit destination, but not enough miles short of the 7 bucks a pop per mile the tow company charged to not make it hurt … a lot.
Plus, alternators? Holy expensive batcar!! And my guys at the shop in Beacon showed me why. With gruesome pictures. “Oh Lilly, you’ve been violated!! Oh your pretty smile lost!!” Seems to get to the alternator in a 2013 Nissan Juke named Lilly you have to do a full car faceoctomy where you take that cars entire front end (said face), pull it off, mock it, lay it to the side, step around it, hit it head on, knock it around with a hammer, mock it a bit more, and then search for dead alternators and hope that your former Lilly smile isn’t askew now when an errant nut or bolt or two is found NOT in Lilly’s face rebuild but instead rolling around a car shop’s floor.
But no, all kidding aside, as much as you can kid from a fetal position, I am grateful that my Beacon guys were able to get Lilly’s smile back in order, and with no missing rolling around shop floors nuts or bolts. They were and are all placed in just the right way now to help me continue continuing.
Plus I will take that holiday weekend that I don’t get and burn a PTO day not thinking about how twelve hundred bucks is twelve hundred bucks I ain’t got, well, twelve hundred bucks that my Capital One card or Bank of America or Discover card has now with loan sharks whispering to finally go legit, quit this, at such an almost 30% deal, while I fan them in a card game out of my wallet, I raise your bankrupt, can’t remember which one. But I am driving at least and Peter and Paul can fight this shit out and pay each other at another time.
Lilly: My face hurts
Me: It hurts me too
Lilly: (blank eye blinks)
Me: Sorry, you opened the door and that was funny
Lilly: (blank eye blinks)
Me: Ok, maybe not.
Lilly: It was finally a relief though, to get me back, like a tough tooth.
Six years ago I stopped writing “editorials”, long winded things imagining myself as some sort of opinion writer for important newspapers and instead went with song … parodies. Parodies that aren’t parodies really (I hate calling them that) but instead my former long winded editorials whittled down to just short winded words within the confines of a tune. Plus it made them a hell of lot more fun as I discovered what I have always known, that I like to “sing”, however poorly, saved only with some production magic
Today, though, I thought to combine them, a short opinion piece that people will skip over to get to the tune (which is cool, just listen to the tune at least, it’s really good) an opinion piece that obviously would be a bit more sedate for print in major newspapers I’ll never be published in but something that still makes an angry point and a return to the best “parody” I’ve done and my standard. It is also one of my most viewed posts so it seems whoever may stop by here in the Attic and I are on the same page
Though this one, the tune eventually here, is from four years ago it’s still pretty relevant
//////////////////////////////////////////
So this is some pretty simple shit. I mean it ain’t gonna get no simpler, ok it could, my bad, it could be as simple as a 2 + 2 equation or it could be a question of whether you want to live or die or even a vanilla or chocolate vs shit sandwich but this is pretty simple. Do you want a democracy or a dictatorship, a theocracy, a new world order where all of your rights are gone? Where you are told how to live and believe? Where you are forced into a knee bend fealty. Pretty simple shit. “Oh you’re just being dramatic, you’re just being an alarmist, you’re even responsible for attempts on the Orange Devil’s life with such talk”.
No and fuck you JD. Bringing up the possible, no, probable end of democracy that would come at the hands the Orange Devil is NOT the talk that is getting him shot at.
That is a response to the intentional incendiary language of Trump and the lessening or dehumanizing everyone on the planet, especially immigrants, except white males.
There is no couching this in claimed hysterical woman-like madness as a JD surely would, have us return to a world where such a statement isn’t out of order, where women are second class citizens and just vessels for new babies for a new Reich. I mean you do understand that the Orange Devil and especially his running mate glory Viktor Orban, find him to be an inspiration right? That they invited him to speak at their yearly CPAC 4th Reich fest? “Illiberal democracy?” Sorry Viktor but you are not allowed to imply anything remotely democratic by simply making up a designation that has democracy in the title. I mean, and to repeat, THEY INVITED A DICTATOR TO SPEAK AT CPAC like this was some new Madison Square Garden get together back in ’32 and the orange devil even welcomed and hosted him at his compound in the Florida fatherland. Viktor fucking Orban!! I shouldn’t even have to make a point of this, THEY INVITED A DICTATOR TO SPEAK AT CPAC but that is the new GOP, unapologetically authoritarian and anti-democratic, un-American.
Now in a different age I might say that you are allowed to your opinion and that I respect it, especially if it is an informed one but now, today? Informed is conspiracy theories and lie filled and know that If you are to vote Orange know based on this “knowledge” that you are simply … just … wrong. If you base ANYTHING on a Trump “truth” you are wrong and know that you have simply succumbed to being hook line and sinkered by a conman and his too slick snake of a sidekick.
Oh, and I have some sneakers and Bibles and coins and watches and keychains and T-shirts and flags and maybe even garden gnomes backing up in a warehouse
A man lies as he breathes He says why would you trust another now Who can you possibly trust Now I’ve shown you what my facts is A fascist truth sledgehammer Nuthin’ else believe-able matters Other than this con in this con man’s swamptown
(and a-oooh ah-oooh)
Lap dogs in orange swamplight Here’s a lie-ball GOP go fetch excuses
Newsman, newsman Get these facts away from me, ya know, No one finds real truth interesting anymore
If you’ll loyalty me blind I can be your despot chum I can call you subject And subject you adore me You can call me Czar
This man original Trumper says There can never be a never me If there’s a never me they’ll never be Happy in a sea of me Where will the answers come from If I don’t truly be-lieve Who will I turn to when The truth slaps me Awake and awake To the harsh realities Of Moscow Mitch’s word marble hypocriteness Hammers and sickles Getting stocked up in the open Along with some of the finest cossack hats
If you’ll loyalty me blind I’ll let you kneel and kiss my ring I can call you subject And subject you adore me You can call me King You can call me King
A man late night he’s tweeting How he’s a victim in this world Maybe it’s a big blue meanie world Where they’re just out to get him And they don’t see his genius Or see how great he his The greatest all narcissists Surrounding himself with nothing more than Clowns clowns Who dance for him like marionettes In a tiny orange circus
He checks the mirror again Sees Messiah staring back at him At least that’s what the hacks say And he so believes them
If you’ll loyalty me blind I can be your despot chum I can call you subject And subject you adore me You can call me Don
Na-na-na-na-na Just call me king-na-na You can kiss my ring na-na Na-na-na-na-na-na-na Loyalties the thing na-na Better never sing na-na I’ll take your everything na-na Na-na-na-na-na-na-na
“You can take the themes of harvest or haunted literally or use them metaphorically in any way you wish. Harvest grain, organs, fish, or emotions; imagine the grim reaper with a scythe. Write about something that haunts you, regret, a long-ago love, thoughts of someone who has died, or actual ghosts. Explore a haunted harvest”.
You may also use the painting above “The Harvest Moon” by Samuel Palmer as inspiration.
Took a little bit of both of these ideas …
.
Third Eye Harvest Moon
He woke in a long field itching
of tall blades and short hungry bugs
chilled but not cold wondering of from where that single pocked light
hung high
had fell
.
“From my third eye” said a voice
.
he sudden colding and chilled now
as there was no from where for a lone voice to fall
no trees above nor craggy hills distance
far called with walls
to call back
friend or foe
score or none
or even from rock tall
smoke black
altars he may have been layed upon
in the stark
back
then
.
You are man are you not?
I am?
Yes, you are
Then from why where do you ask?
To see if you knew
But I just woke, food for bugs in tall grass in almost dark task
save for one light
high hung
right
.
Will you rise and pay threshed tithes
under my third eye
Why?
It is that time of harvest, of tall grasses wrapped with long blades twined
tribute
in the richness of grains
… and the harvest of souls
.
From why where must you have mine after such riches?
.
Because you are the first and quench a stronger thirst
Ya know, being happily single, unencumbered by singleness allows me time to explore further the reasons I am said happily single. There’s no pillow talk, no equal toes and ankles under sheets, no sidestepping feet in a morning’s perfectly choreographed dance in the kitchen, no phone calls during the day just to check in and feel not alone, no shoulders for heads on bad days, no shared shows on the tube, even if you only watch bits of them while wishing to eat your own foot or at least as much popcorn or any other snack as possible just so you can keep taking breaks to get more … “No, you keep watching … don’t pause for me … I’ll catch up”
“Can’t you just fill a big bowl?”
Ok, SOME drawbacks (other than that show that you really don’t like), but the happily single, while minus some together benefits, does allow me time to just sit (big fan) and thought and wonder and wear out the A’s and S’s and D’s on my keyboard (apparently – and another thing to figgur entirely) and sometimes re-visit old pieces of my brilliance
“Brilliance? Really?”
“What?! I can’t imagine things? I mean, this is MY blog right? My own fancies?”
Anyway, in my single, “I gots the time”, I went back to some of my “brilliant” things this weekend for a re-read or a re-listen and reminded myself how much I like this post (among others – though this is the one I’m gonna stick you with right now).
It’s nothing special really, I have others that are better but this one just makes me smile.
An audio post about engineers, my Bella, crunchy paper and possible spaceships.
//////////////////////////////////////////
April 1, 2023
Thought I would take to doing a read of this one from early March and have a little fun with it while I was at it.
Downstairs at the station earlier this week was a recent package for Tom, one of our radio engineer guys, possibly the tallest radio engineer guy on the East Coast which means absolutely nothing here, he’s just pretty tall, thought I’d mention it.
It was a big box, with lots of smaller boxes of surely important and expensive radio equipment stuff, smaller boxes of radio thingy’s and whatchamacallits that Tom would recognize in an engineer way that would eventually be replacements for old thingy’s and whatchamacallits or be completely new additions, or maybe even be part of the controls on the bridge of a spaceship Tom was building on the station’s dime on the down low to get him the hell out of here, but conduits to buttons that I would probably at some point push (or not push – depending on the yellow post-its with pointed arrows that say “Frankenberry, Don’t Push This”).
Noted I thought, but I just used the word “eventually” earlier as to installation of all this so I was good for the moment to not concern myself with personal yellow post-it notes just yet, but notice instead the more important aspect of what was also in this big box, with the lots of smaller boxes of surely important radio equipment stuff, the smaller boxes of thingy’s, and whatchamacallits that Tom would recognize and come with soon post-it warnings for me (though I might try to stow away on his spaceship to get the hell out of here as well – hopefully he brings post-its, I mean, it’s a spaceship … waaaay more important to note buttons I shouldn’t push out there … in space … ya know, where spaceships go … wouldn’t want to accidentally send us hurtling into a sun or something because that particular “send you hurtling into a sun” button didn’t have a simple post-it note telling me NOT to push it).
But also in the big box? Brown packing paper, lots of brown packing paper, or more famously, for me and my Bella, “crunchy paper”.
I was excited! Crazy cat lady guy excited! Been a while since I had refreshed the crunchy paper, the old paper rolled around on and slept on scratched on and cat puked on and cat toy played on so much by my little Bella that it was now nothing more than cloth soft paper tatters.
I asked Tom if he thought he might need any of this “crunchy paper” for possible returns and if not … could I have it … for my cat.
He looked quizzically, annoyedly and in his usual “why are you bothering me Frankenberry?” kinda way, the way he often does when looking at me (he most probably being the one most understandably responsible for those yellow post-it notes in the first place) and said “Sure?” hoping I would just leave his office as quickly as possible.
//////////////////////////////////////////
I thanked Tom earlier today for my Bella, told him Bella said I must, and even showed him pictures, like any crazy cat lady guy worth their catnip would, that he feigned interest in like a real trooper instead of just looking at me again quizzically, again annoyedly and again in his usual “why are you bothering me Frankenberry?” kinda way and said “You’re welcome?” hoping, once more, that I would just leave his office as quickly as possible (got a spaceship to work on here Frankenberry!! And don’t you dare try to stowaway, don’t know if post-its stick so well in space!).
Here we go Girlfriend. New crunchy paper Bella. And maybe even a space adventure or two.
A little while ago I discovered a community of writers at an online spot, dVerse poets and, courtesy of them, have been inspired to write some pretty good stuff over this time through prompts offered, numerous ones, on a weekly basis. Thank you by the way.
Anyway, one of the folks met there is Melissa, who offers some fun flash fiction prompts, with pictures for inspiration. Well …
“There you are Jenn, I’ve been looking all over for you!! You’re NOT going to believe this!!”
“A puppy followed you home and you’re going to adopt her and name her Buttons and everything’s finally gonna be Ok?”
“What? No! And where the hell did that come from? It’s also oddly specific”
“Nothing. Wait, let me guess, hold on, racking my brain, you uh … you umm … just a total out of the blue here, but you found a portal, an interdimensional portal maybe, or a time travel portal or a more run of the mill portal that’ll take you to distant galaxies?”
“Whoa, how did you know I was going to say … hey, wait a minute, you’re being sarcastic and mocking me aren’t you?”
“Yah think?”
“But this one is real Jenn, I swear.”
“You mean like that last one, in that alley, in a dumpster. You know I still smell of piss and decaying food and I think of something that crawled in there to just give up on life and die right?”
“That was just bad intel”
“Jesus, Ralph, bad intel?!! Who the fuck from? Some sort of deepthroat special operative from a top secret government organization? Or just one of the other tinfoil hats you talk to on your ham radio or on the dark web in your basement with Ant? And where is Ant by the way, he’s usually right behind panting and sweating along with your latest excitement?”
“He’s at the Laundromat”
“Really, well good, about time, speaking of that whole panting and sweating thing of his …”
“He’s not doing clothes, though you’re right, we need to have a heart to nose with him on that”
“Then why is he at … Oh, wait, let me guess, he’s with a portal isn’t he?!”
“Shut up and just come with me alright? Plus, it needs to be guarded. You’re gonna be blown away!”
“But probably not portalled away right? You know, you two are lucky I’m pathetic and have no life”
“You’re lucky you have two friends … now just come along”
“(sigh) alright … and that was cold by the way”
//////////////////////////////////////////
When Ralph and Jenn got to the laundromat, Ant was indeed there and was indeed guarding the “portal” and with a handful of quarters.
“Seriously Ant? Ralph?” Jenn said “A dryer? This is your latest portal? A dryer at Hammond’s? And what’s with the quarters? You’re not telling me this thing has to be running for it to “work” are you?”
“No, thankfully” Ant replied “but you do have to put quarters in for some reason for anything to actually portal”
“What, some other worldly being needs us to pay a toll to transport us to wherever?”
Ralph stepped in “Hey, will you take this seriously Jenn, please? It’s real this …”
“Take it seriously?! Dude it’s a fucking dryer in a laundromat!”
“Show her Ant?”
“Show me what!?” said Jenn loudly and losing her patience.
“Grab me a magazine off the table over there Ralph”
“Which one?”
“Really, did you just ask me that?”
“Ok, right, sorry, months old copies of Sports Unillustrated or Harper’s Bizarre or Nun’s Health or Neapolitan … don’t really matter which one I guess”
“Nun’s Health?”
“What, they don’t work out or worry about health and nutrition? I don’t know man, and hell, I didn’t even realize there were such things as knock-off magazines”
“Ok, well make it that one then, they’re always going on about reaching the heavens anyway”
Jenn was standing, impatiently, arms folded “Just waiting here fellas …”
Ant put a couple of quarters in and layed the copy of Nun’s Health inside the dryer … and waited
Jenn “Well?”
“Give it a sec” said Ant
Then there was the slightest sound, but strangely distinct, like they could hear a tuned pin drop in the middle of a crowded street or even, in this case, a noisy machined laundromat and there was an even slighter light, just a pinpoint, that flashed in front of and stunned and momentarily blinded all of them … then the Nuns were gone and all their knock-off mag healthy intentions.
“Awww shit!! What the hell was that?!” said Jenn jumping back suddenly and rubbing her eyes
Ant and Ralph both said at the same time, after getting their focus back “Look”
That’s when Jenn noticed the magazine was gone.
“Ok!! Where is it?! Which one of you numbnuts just grabbed it and tossed it in a corner or something while that sound and light fucked with me!!?”
“Neither of us Jenn … grab another magazine Ralph”
A couple of quarters, an almost imperceptible but very evident sound and light again and the Harper’s Bizarreand Neapolitan magazines were gone
“Hey!? I wanted to read that Neapolitan one!! The article about which one are you dating, vanilla, chocolate or strawberry sounded interesting”
“Shut up Ralph … there, ya see Jenn we weren’t kidding”
The three of them, after getting another roll of quarters and throwing in anything that was handy that all also disappeared, just stood there in silence, dumbfounded, staring at each other afraid to say what was next but was definitely what they were all thinking.
Then Jenn finally said “So which one of us gets in?”
Ant “Noooo, writer guy, that is definitely NOT what we were thinking!”
Ralph “Yeah writer guy, what he said!”
“Bullshit!” said Jenn
After another bit of silence Ant broke in “No, you’re right, you and writer dude, that’s EXACTLY what we were thinking”
Ralph “Yeah, what Ant said again, EXACTLY what we were thinking”
More silence
“Shit!” exclaimed Jenn, “Alright, it’s gonna have to be me”
“Why?!” Ant and Ralph chimed in together
“Because Ralph, you need to be out here in case I disappear, so you can, I don’t know, figure stuff out with that oversized egghead of yours, maybe contact all your weirdo pals to help possibly find me and Ant, well, sorry, but you need to do so some jogging and maybe eat a salad or two, hit a gym, something, you’re just not gonna fit”
“Damn, that’s cold Jenn … true, but still cold”
“It is what it is … and here I was the non-believer” Jenn said shaking her head and climbing into some sort of dryer portal at Hammonds Laundry & Juice Bar with no idea where the fuck this thing might be taking her
“Wait!” said Ralph “should we get you a sandwich or something, a power drink, or maybe a juice or a smoothie? Or even a towel? I mean we’re right here at a Juice bar AND laundromat and that towel thing sounds familiar, I mean you never …”
“Shut up Ralph!!” Jenn said as she slowly sat her way into the dryer, “you got the quarters Ant?”
He, nodded nervously “You sure about this Jenn?”
“Just do it Ant, but a few more quarters this time, quite a few, just in case”
Then there was that lightest but distinct sound again and that lightest but still bright pinpoint of light temporarily blinding them again and when their vision returned they looked in the dryer … Jenn wasn’t there, just one of her sneakers.
“Oh Shit!” cried Ant
“Oh Shit Shit!” cried Ralph
“Oh Shit Shit Shit! And she’s got just one sneaker now!!” cried Ralph some more “and she doesn’t even know what to expect, and now with just one shoe … and she really should have let us get her a sandwich, at least some chips or one of these Hammond’s smoothies”
Ant added “but look on the bright side, they surely have to have some sort of footwear wherever she went, right? and when she does get there at least she’ll have some reading material waiting for her, in case there’s some down time”
Ralph “good point, though she really should have waited so I could have grabbed her a …”
Ant cut him off “… don’t mention the sandwich again Ralph, please, just don’t mention the fucking sandwich”
“Sorry”
“Ok, now we gotta see if we can find her, start getting ready to round up the gang” Ant told him
“Gotcha” said Ralph “though, I’m a bit hungry now, think we can …”
Cold stare
“Ok, never mind. Maybe we start sending things through to contact her with like one of my ham radios, or wait, man I’m dumb, what if we just call her cell phone?’
“oh sure, like if she’s in some screwy interdimentional space she’s gonna have cell service? And you mean like this one? That she took out her pocket before climbing in?” Ant pointed to a folding table and Jenn’s phone.
“Shit, we’re gonna need some new resources Ant” Ralph said “and a lot more quarters”
Since moving up the Albany way I work now a few days a week from the office of our stations in Latham, and on my way in earlier last week I noticed this in a field I pass right by the airport.
Now yes, things are a bit different up here, as any place new will prove to be, but no one warned me of the REALLY big freakin’ ants!
(a sort of call/response to a recent piece from a friend of mine … parallax)
Totally Fact
Let's look at the facts they say, years later I'm still waiting not like I'm Vladimir or Estragon, lost in some existential crisis cafe where even the coffee hasn't arrived at table five or any other and probably won't; if facts were goal posts they'd never stop moving in any direction or reason placation, manipulation which is closer to the truth raising yet another question like, the fact of the matter, what matter (I ask) quantum or social, but whatever I'm now totally fact.
Thought to take a “So Then Sunday” post to a new extreme, as if repeating old posts on a Sunday with a made up name attempt to be similar to a Throwback Thursday wasn’t extreme enough but to then take one and have it happen on a Saturday instead?
Jesus man!
Worlds out of balance!
“You know you could just say “revisit” or something?”
“Shut up”
Anyway, this one, a second Melanie take from back in April
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April 20, 2024
Back in January I visited Melanie’s “What Have They Done To My Song” for another of my parodies, though I am loathe to call them such as that implies “silly” and these certainly are NOT silly (for the most part). I’ve been working this angle for going on 7 years now with quite a lot of tunes, a boatload, and blah blah blah Steve, yes, your editorials in song as blah blah blah, no one is going to read any straight up editorial blah blah blah but if you put them to tune blah blah blah … you’ve told us.
But that is what it is and what I do though, I gotta say, in my own defense, they are all pretty toe tap worthy, biting and spot on and just darned good in that biting and spot on and toe tappingness.
Anyway, visited Melanie again and her “Brand New Key” now, a tune reminded the other day out of the corner of my ear at work from the ‘Magic’ station playing at my boss’s desk.
So, “Brand New Trump Key” then.
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Brand New Trump Key
I rode my motorcade to your city last night
To spin some lies and give you all such a fright
To harp on victim-like and rail conspiracies
I know you trust me know I’m just what you need
.
Well, I’ve got brand new world in mind here now
Take heart my unhinged screed
I’ll be proven right my ranting now
You just need to wait and see
I know what you need it’s a Donnie me
A fascist change of scene
.
Well, I’ve got a brand new world in mind here now
It just ain’t democracy
.
I ride my plan of year twenty of twenty five
I got my dee-scipes proving be worthy scribes
Of new world order in these United States
If you don’t subscribe you’ll surely be less than great
.
Oh yeah
Hah hah hah hah
Oh you will face my wrath
Hah hah hah hah
Oh yeah yeah yeah you’ll wish you hadn’t said that
Hi and welcome to the Attic, I'm Frankenberry of said Blog Title and I write of just my everyday here, sometimes funny, sometimes heartfelt, sometimes angry, sometimes funny again because, well, who don't like funny, thoughts on getting older and sometimes stuff that's just kinda shit. I pen and sing the occasional parody tune and other songs, sometimes I even get a little bit poetic or short story-etic or something like that. If you're joining me here I thank you, but just mind your head and feet and keep an eye out for my little Bella and Cricket The Blind as well as the memories of Raspberry (Razzy), Mimi the Quirky, of Blink The Lil' Kit, Grayson the Mighty, Shoes the Big Orange, Shana-Girl, Benny Good Man Benny Brown, Merlin & Bob. Wouldn't want you step on them or anything ... 'cause then I might just have to throw you down the stairs ... damned humans.
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