Lonely Cloud

by Laurence Trundle Lawrence

December 8, 2003

I wandered lonely as a cloud,
it was Halloween and I had about
sixty pounds of cotton
glued to my leotards.
And nobody wanted to trick or treat
with a kid
who was dressed up like a that.
Needless to say, being seven sucked bad.
The stars shone down
like Christmas lights
all flashing in crazy sequences
that made me nauseous
and I got sick on the tree stand.
That was on Christmas,
but the stars made me sick like that too.
If there'd been a tree stand there
I can't say I wouldn't have sicked on it
but that would have been pretty weird to see
on Halloween
unless it was holding up a pumpkin tree or something.
So to recap, I was a lonely
seven-year-old cloud
and I almost barfed.
But then I saw
a shitload of flowers
like at least seven
possibly more.
And I thought of how
if I ate all those flowers
maybe I could fly.
Hey, I was seven.
But then this guy in a wife-beater
popped out his door and started yelling
about how he was going to punt my little ass
across the street
if I didn't stop eating all his flowers.
So I hauled ass fastly as a cloud
that doesn't want to get its ass kicked
by a bigger cloud
and ran all the way to my cloud house.
But even now,
when huger pangs
sometimes I think of having a flower burrito or something.
When the florist has his back turned
Quick!
Hey screw you, man
I never liked
your flower shop
anyway.

Quote of the Day

“A little bad taste is like a dash of paprika. A lot of bad taste, like a grinder full of cayenne pepper. And doing that annoying Cajun guy impression while doing anythingâ€”well, that's just beyond bad taste.”

-Dirty Parkbench

Fortune 500 Cookie

In the annals of history, there has always been one man who laughs uncontrollably whenever someone says "annals"â€”that's your legacy. Turn up the heat this week, 'cause that fucking turkey has been in the oven since Saturday. If you can't beat them, join them, and show them what real losers they are for accepting you into the group. Lucky bastards this week are Tom Monroe, Pete Gelbart, Judy Simon, and that son you're pretty sure is living in Winnipeg now.

Try again later.

Top Outstanding commune Petty Cash Debts

1.	Raoul Dunkin $974.25 in mental anguish
2.	Smilin' Jack Costello $8, plus interest
3.	Ned Nedmiller 1/8th of a cent
4.	Mazie the Chicken 1 half cup of scratch
5.	You Know Who You Are 1 human gall bladder

The Raccoon Killer
On golden gilded lapis lazuli the gnome was homely, old and plain. Byzantine tattoos on his brain made him think the world insane. "Lichens liken to Vicodin dreamsâ€¦ rolled oats, old goats, matriarchs." A Chicano girl named Rosa Parks ... (11/24/03)

Chase the Weasel
All around the Crunchberry bowl the monkey chased the weasel. The monkey thought it was fuckin' funny until "POP!" goes the weasel! The fucking weasel exploded, I'm not kidding. It was fuckin' raunchy. Up and down the hallway stairs ... (11/10/03)

Deuce
slapped so hard his beak was loose. But Bruce and Luce they called truce, and drank a can of blue moose juice. The goose he drank it through a sluice. Norman Snoran, small recluse, lives deep inside a red caboose. He's solitary, one... (10/27/03)