Post your creative writing here?

[Badger]

^OK. That was awesome. I actually cannot write limericks to save my life, so I'm kind of jealous of they who can.

The sandwich gods, by the way, must have gotten really ticked off by my Sandwich, Vile Sandwich poem. Since writing that, I have had another sandwich: also bad! Confidential to undergrad girl who made my sandwich: if a customer orders two different condiments, put one condiment on one slice of bread, and the other condiment on the other slice. Doing so helps disguise somewhat the fact that you are using grocery-store bread at your pseudo-upscale establishment.

[BPritchard]

How 'bout them whores d'overs ain't they sweet!
A little piece of cheese and a little piece of meat.

[TavaPeak]

Badger, you were so nice to overlook the extra feet. Sorry 'bout the sandwich. You might want to remain in the elegaic, rather than the prophetic, voice. ;-)

[Badger]

Badger, you were so nice to overlook the extra feet. Sorry 'bout the sandwich. You might want to remain in the elegaic, rather than the prophetic, voice. ;-)

Well, the extra feet at least matched up, you know?

Ugh, the sandwich. And I know, totally–I really should save the fire and brimstone for they that really deserve it, like dog-kickers, Twilight, and Coralville.

[TavaPeak]

And perhaps Krispy Kreme, helplines, and zombie Jane Austen. Prithee, spare the sandwich girl of the hectoring, as she likely has her mind on other things, like Twitter, or Virgilian hexameter.

Badger, your poem is magisterial. (I had to look up "aumbries", which is saying something.) You have me hankering to see a Saint This or That while carrying a wine-dark bag.

[Badger]

And perhaps Krispy Kreme, helplines, and zombie Jane Austen. Prithee, spare the sandwich girl of the hectoring, as she likely has her mind on other things, like Twitter, or Virgilian hexameter.

Oh, yeah. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Also the word "lite"; Spanx; casseroles with creamed corn as an ingredient. And Bananas in Pajamas. (One of my students told me about that one–I had to Google it because I had no idea what she was talking about. Later I wrote to her, "Thank you very much for the nightmares I'm going to suffer for the rest of my life." Urgh–Bananas in Pajamas. Google at your own risk. I'm serious.)

Badger, your poem is magisterial. (I had to look up "aumbries", which is saying something.) You have me hankering to see a Saint This or That while carrying a wine-dark bag.

Aw, thanks. "Aumbry" is one of my favorite words (number one?: "dirigible"). It's so much more melodious than "tabernacle." I highly advise seeing the saints in San Marco. They have legs, hands, and lots of little pieces. Bits and bobs, I wanted to say, but that seems disrespectful.

[davys]

So, here's a short, title-less poem I wrote today to Mrs B via SMS:

Sandwich, sandwich
Sandwich vile and inedible

I threw you in the trash,
And from the trash you mock me–

O sandwich, vile sandwich


Ah, my triumphant return to the lyrical realm.

Well done Sir, that really made my day!! Since I come from the land of Rabbie Burns, I know he would be very appreciative as well, although I don't know if the great man could improve on your masterpiece:

Oh piece, oh piece
Waesom and uggin
Yon veecious bauchle I hurkle ma hurdies
Wi yir weary wersh
Oh piece, wastrie piece

[KmK]

The cafe bag's plum perfect/the pouches are restrained/I can pack for any travel/walked, flown, bussed, or trained/My Super-ego's fine/My Synapse it is firin'.../Oh what other TB bag/will soon I be desirin'?

Badger I have taken a picture of the library where I am working here in Jakarta--let me just say... not sexy, but wow is it amazing to be here... will post pictures when I can!

[Badger]

Well done Sir, that really made my day!! Since I come from the land of Rabbie Burns, I know he would be very appreciative as well, although I don't know if the great man could improve on your masterpiece:

Oh piece, oh piece
Waesom and uggin
Yon veecious bauchle I hurkle ma hurdies
Wi yir weary wersh
Oh piece, wastrie piece

That sandwich totally made me want to hurkle ma hurdies. Totally.

[Badger]

The cafe bag's plum perfect/the pouches are restrained/I can pack for any travel/walked, flown, bussed, or trained/My Super-ego's fine/My Synapse it is firin'.../Oh what other TB bag/will soon I be desirin'?

Badger I have taken a picture of the library where I am working here in Jakarta--let me just say... not sexy, but wow is it amazing to be here... will post pictures when I can!

NICE ONE, KmK. You'll be impressed to know that you could set your poem to the tune of Gillian Welch's "Down Along the Dixie Line." That's right.

I can't wait to see the pics! And let's be honest: things don't have to be sexy to be cool.

[TavaPeak]

Did Burns carry an Ayrenaut?

[Badger]

Did Burns carry an Ayrenaut?

With wee organiser sporrans clipped to the Ach-rings.

(Sorry. So, so sorry. That was not Robert Burns so much as Groundskeeper Willie.)

[TavaPeak]

I was going to ask if Burns hurkled his hurdies in an Ayrenaut, until I googled the Scots Glossary.

[davys]

Well, it turns out (if you didn't already know it) that google can be a dangerous place. I've just seen Hurkle defined as a horse hoe for cleaning turnips, so not sure what Badger was up to when trying to eat his sandwich if that's the case!

And as for the definition in the Urban Dictionary, well all I can say is that I wished I never used my work pc to follow the google link. It would be enough to get Groundskeeper Willie going... not to mention Badger, who I guess would rather have been hoeing turnips afterall.

[Badger]

David, didn't you know that "hoeing turnips" is an old Iowan euphemism for gagging wretchedly in one's office after eating a vile sandwich? No?
I must admit that I didn't look up the Urban Dictionary definition–and I can't say I'm tempted to now, as I too am at work.

Also: Badger ≠ laddie. Despite my muscular prose and manly lyrical style.