MY LOVELIES!

Come near good children folk and listen with your eyes to the tale that will spin from this point onward. And from onward I do not mean till the end of this brief and simple blog entry you are currently feasting on, NO! I mean for this beautiful collection of letters  and spaces to tell you about the entirety of the rest of my life!  And oh what a life it is/will be.  Filled with jovial tasties and sweet sweet hahaha’s, it will make you feel 100% more fulfilled then you did before your epic peepage. 

     If you have happened to stumble into this small slice of blogspot unawares of your surroundings allow me to introduce myself.  I am one Mr. Bat the magniglorious.  Also joining the rampage will be Mr. Lizard the disgruntlious, pay kind to him, he falters easily into submission from lack of hahaha’s.   We have combined forces to pen down our every thought and live event, so that the common man may see us and feel empathy!

To start I begin with the sad sad horrible cake ball adventure that was lived just a few shorts times ago…

     Each year I allow myself 1 cooking adventure.  I have since my youth been about the worst in the kitchen as a person could possibly imagine so doing such frequently could have devastatingly negative effects on the world around me, but to never give it a shot ever ever would be completely foolish.  How are we to know that one day I won’t give it a shot and discover that the talent was there just waiting to be discovered during a previously determined year? Last year was the year of salt water taffy.  We started with all the appropriate ingredients and followed directions closely, yet still ended up with some kind of strawberry and charcoal swirl flavored chalk.  Well it was a little more brittle than chalk, but you get the picture.  (as a side note, this experiment took place the very same day that best friend matt introduced me to then girlfriend now wife.  I have since been known as the taffy man.  She even politely offered to have me make taffy for refreshments on that fateful day.  I should have.  Would have served them right.)

     BUT ON TO THIS YEAR!  Much like the last kitchen experiment this one involves a wedding!!!!!!! But very much opposite of the last year, this wedding predated and even inspired the project.  It was at best friend Adam’s wedding that we tasted the delicious cake pops.  Oh they were so so great, oh so very great.  They were so great that they returned suppressed memories of eating the same things in my years in Alabama! Suppressed not for tragedy but out of amounts of deliciousness I thought were not achievable again! This idea of disappointment removed the memory from my brain entirely until the wedding in question let hope shine through.  Immediately after leaving I knew what my mission would be.  CAKE BALLS WOULD BE MINE FOREVER!

     The greatest thing about the cake balls is basically anyone who has a mother who makes pro-style confectionary treats regularly will have all the ingredients on hand!  So after making sad faces at mom for a minute then promising that the kitchen would have no lasting fire damage she agreed to let me use all of her favorite things.

Haiku:

Within the kitchen

Ingredients are as one

And so comes horror

     It happened around the time that the balls of cake and cream cheese were meant to be rolled in sweltering dipping chocolates.  You may not think it, but taking a dough-like substance plus trying to roll it in hot liquidish substance does not equal easy and pretty.  Instead of getting this:

I got something more like this:

     I know it looks like ingesting these may cause your stomach to catch the AIDS or something, but remarkably enough they were quite palatable.  But unfortunately by today’s standards, this is not enough.  I can never break into the industry with such ugly balls.  On conversation with the mother afterwards about life lessons I learned from this year’s catastrophe her only response was that “Blue-green is not a good color for chocolate” this lesson proved to be far more insightful then the one I was about to pull from it. 

TRIVIA

Q: What do you get when two cake balls get stuck together from melted chocolate?

A: Cake- SHUT YO’ MOUTH!

MOVIE IDEAS
Tap ‘n Slap: 

So some dudes are totally like chilaxin’ on a couch when it tips over backwards from their collectively unbearable weight.  Once the dust settles they find they have been transported to the magical land of Uloongiarta!  Here they meet the magical unicorn Murvis who makes his living being a street tap dancer stage-named Luscious.  But when Murvis is mistaken for a hooker the dudes must build his case and defend him in court.  The best part, MURVIS IS HIRED TO BE HIS OWN PROSECUTION!  Poor Murvis, if he loses, his reputation as a freakin’ suite prosecutor will be shattered, but if he wins, his street dancing days are over. Not to mention a high probability of serving time.  WHAT WILL OUR HEROES DO!?!?!?!

OH OH OH that would be so fly.  Someone get a producer on the phone now because this idea is totally hip to the now!

Potentially all is filled with air

Deep and dark but yet despair

Flutterly poised and boisen brye

Needles puncture brazen eye

A golden horse marches through

A silver scarab buzzes too

Can anyone tell me what the meaning of this poem is.  If you can then you get 3 hurays.  Which is 2 more than most will ever get from me in their lives.  Does this thought make you happy?  It shouldn’t.

Thus ends entry number one from Mr. Bat. But alas as a parting gift I give a beautiful piece of art from my many creations on my phone. 

 Love, 

SB

A Word From the Crimson Lizard

Into the darkness with you, reader!

Welcome to Death4Yes. As the title suggests, this blog is mostly about the current political state of blah blah blah.

Time for a poem!

Little dog, little dog,

I will make you eat this frog.

When you're done, sit on a log,

Hold on! I have to write this blog.

I'm back, valiant readers. Question: What is art? Answer: I don't answer elitist questions like that. Today I have done nothing but sit on a couch, complaining to the Silver Bat about how much we need to write this blog. At first I tried to convince him that my creative juices only flow when he posts first. But his retort was that his creative juices require that I post first.

Question: Why is creativity always measured in juices?

Answer: Because people are generally disgusting.

Here's a movie idea:

A very tall man is actually just average height but only hangs out with short people and plays basketball on children's hoops. HE IS A DANGER TO HIMSELF! The doctor tells him to make friends with normal people which really offends his short friends who KILL and EAT the doctor. The whole thing is way too intense to be explained by this synopsis, so here's the climactic scene:

DOCTOR: You gots to find yourself some normally normals!

TALL/AVERAGE GUY: Are you calling my short friends freaks?

SHORT FREAK #1: WHAT what WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?!

SHORT FREAK #2: Let's eat that doctor's FACE!

They do.

I shall call this film: AveRAGE!

And the tagline shall be: They all said I was too normal. Well, they were wrong...DEAD wrong!

And the disclaimer shall be: They were actually right.

I feel like I've thrown a lot at you for a first post. You doing okay there, champ? Need a drink or something? Go take a nap.

Glad to see you've returned, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (word of advice: get that tail checked out, could be cancer). Now I'm going to tell you a story about addiction. It is very sad and I won't be offended if you cry.

A bunch of addicts walk into a bar and they shout up to the bartender, "Snag us some peanuts!" The bartender says, "I can smell the peanuts on your breath from here, you've had enough!" The big fella in front says, "Don't think we can handle our peanuts, huh?" Bartender retorts, "Don't get all riled up, Herb, I'm just trying to protect you from yourself." Herb starts ranting and raving, "I'm fine! I can stop whenever I want!" The guys over in the corner are like, "Let's toss these junkies out." And the bar goes into pandemonium mode.     The addicts just start wetting themselves because they've lost all their mental faculties. The guys from the corner grab the addicts and start beating the doody out of them. A lady at another table turns to her young daughter and says, "Don't look, honey. Those people are lost souls." She covers the girl's eyes as the two pound down their fourteenth consecutive whiskey shots. The addicts are thrown out into the street where they lie in a crumpled heap. A homeless man shakes his head slowly and mutters, "Peanuts'll kill ya. Shoulda tried heroin."

THAT STORY IS TOTALLY TRUE.

A poem:

Opium I've never tried,

For if I had, then I'd have died,

But not because my body's weak,

Or 'cause my heart would spout a leak.

It's just that China is so far,

And I just cannot trust my car,

To drive over the ocean blue,

So no cool drugs for me or you!

That poem suggests that I would like to do drugs. How dare it?

Question: If a three-year-old piece of cheese still looks edible, can you eat it?

Answer: No, because I already did, and it was delicious.

To close, a word from out sponsor:

Since we don't have a sponsor, this is just a word from me:

A word from me, our sponsor:

Cancer is bad news. Don't touch it. It's probably contagious. Right? I mean...right?

Yams and codfish,

CL

P.S. To prepare you for Silver Bat's entry, I have constructed a brilliant anecdote about cake balls.

Lord Forsythe and his crew of merry marching marauders wandered the deserts of Littleton Township, seeking the orb of Lycastra. They had battled through the most deadly terrains, slashing ruffians and other nasty types in their quest to find that most holy orb. Forsythe himself worried that their actions may endanger their very souls in the eternal realms, for he feared that perhaps there was innocent blood on their hands. And blah blah blah blah blah cake balls.