April 2004


When I opened the fridge at work this morning a cockroach scuttled out, then dashed back under the fridge. We named him Kevin. A colleague of mine decided Kevin should go away, so he caught him in a plastic bag. Before Kevin started his epic journey to the rubbish tip, I took his photo: Kevin & Kevin's butt.

Wriggledy jiggledy,
Kevin the cockroach was
cooling his heels in the
slammer for theft;

Bagged by St. Clement, our
crumb-cribbing comrade
made exit stage-left.

Other Double Dactyls

Driving to work

All the radio stations this morning were spewing unfunny, inane drivel.
Click. Jingly adverts. Click. Old Michael Jackson song. Click. Ring us
and rant about rubbish. Click. More annoying adverts. Click. Pompous
political preaching. Click. Click. Click... *sigh*

I switched to an Elfman CD. Celeste and strings and oohs waltzed haunting scissorhands themes. Drive-time soma.

Everything about my road was grey. The traffic was heavy, moving and
pausing in coordinated ripples. An image of cars in a grand waltz did
its best to form. The cars could all flow and weave in a huge
unchoreographed dance. The greyness could desaturate further to period
monochrome. Drabness would turn into understated style. I should be
longing for a video camera to capture this journey--my own art movie.

I wished. I imagined. No luck. My image didn't fit. The metallic
inchworm continued to stretch and contract its way down the bleak
branch. I focused on the music and forgot about my reluctant suburban

Please life, can I have some more?

Not for the first time I pondered the human condition of
dissatisfaction. In this comfortable car was sitting an adult human who has
all he needs for a satisfying and largely pain-free life. He has loyal,
caring friends. He has freedom to speak his mind and act as he desires.
He has opportunities for artistic expression in any number of media. He
has an almost inexhaustible supply of entertainment. He has a wide
sphere of influence in his professional and social life. Why would he
want more of anything?

He is human.


Virge is now the proud owner of a new domain: packbawky.com. For the moment I've just parked it on my web space and placed a little bawkiness on the default page of a subdomain.

Fashion and intolerance don't mix

"State Representative Derrick Shepherd got tired of catching glimpses of boxer shorts and G-strings over the low-slung belt lines of young adults."

"No G-strings!" saith Derrick the Bold.
"These pretty young things must be told
to be more discreet
when I'm out on the street
else my wife makes me wear a blindfold."

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Rat-assisted double dactyl

Pattery, pattery,
Kaguya, mouse-daughter
born of a virgin doe
with no male spouse: 
sisterhood's saviour; her 
name shall be Mouse.

Seeing the beautiful double dactyl word "parthenogenesis" in this article, I couldn't resist.

Many thanks to bad rat Socar for her creative and critical input.

Other Double Dactyls

A Cheap Ride on the Bandwagon

Victoria, a bright girl, I'm sure,
should've known there'd be fan-girls galore
tempting David to stray.
When he's got room to play
he'll always find chances to score.

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Book of Keys

Here is the reading from the book of Keys, chapter 22.

And he spake this parable unto them, saying,

A son gathered books together and went out in the morning before the appointed hour of departure.

His father was yet within the home, busying himself with the duties of the morning.

The son stood outside and sneezed onto his hand, having not brought with him a nosecloth.

And the son was moved to wrath, for although the hour of departure was not yet come, he judged that he had not time to fetch a nosecloth.

The father, knowing not of his son's discomforture, called out to his son, saying "return to thy room, for thou hast not gathered thy raiments to be washed and thy mother starteth her washing."

The son rebuked him, saying "there is not time".

The father said, "there is yet time, for the hour of departure has not come and even I am not yet ready."

Then a demon entered into the boy and he flung himself headlong to his room.

Bitter Limerick

Mutilation is such a taboo,
and explicit sadism too.
In Hollywood fashion
we'll label it Passion
so fundies and children can view.

Even after all the reviews that tell people what the movie contains, some still take young kids to watch it.

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Real Life Acting

An actor by trade, Kevin Spacey
was mugged in the park, prima facie.
But if truth be known
he was
conned for his phone
and he'd altered his script to sound racy.

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A divine motto:

I'm too deviant
  to video a mint
    oven mat idiot
      on a vomit diet.

Avoid it, not me.

The stars made me do it

I don't know what made me click on my horoscope. Maybe I was meant to do it. It must have been written in the stars.


Your natural mutable nature can usually weather many storms, but certain things can disrupt your personal energy and this is one day where this may happen. It's New Moon, in Aries once more, and the partial eclipse makes this a powerful cycle. As it stands something you started a few weeks ago is still in need of completion, and lucky for you, you have some more time available to do just that! Your desire to forge ahead is greatly increased, but bite the bit - and wait a couple of days until the eclipse energy has passed or things may get really messed up.

See the wonderful reward that lay waiting? It's a message telling me I should procrastinate! Whatever it was, I should leave it a couple more days. Can advice possibly get better than this?

What makes a confirmed skeptic click on horoscopes? I think it's the humour. A daily horoscope is a cerebral slapstick comedy where the writer shoulders his plank of text and swings it around without looking. The gullible reader cops it smack in the face, day after day but keeps getting up for more.