On rahmbamarama: making poetry for Blagojevich
sonnetastic : This is just to hold a press conference to announce
I have filled
the Senate seat
that it was in
my power to fill
and which you were probably
saving
for Quinn
Forgive me
it was a $(*)ing valuable thing
so sweet
and so *(^)ing golden
Needless to say, everyone is encouraged to offer further tributes to the brilliance of Blago ... and I don't just mean the brilliance of his hundred-strokes-of-the-comb-every-morning hair.
schmiss: [subject: Fun fact: this is the only thing my English studies have been good for]
LET us go then, you and me,
Before the evening's old like Mayor Daley
Like putting impeachment on the table;
Let us go, through certain Chi-town streets,
And talk of selling seats
The positions that we'll buy and sell
Maybe I'll get a position as well:
Energy would be a present
Cause all the money is in it
Which leads you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not give me appreciation:
It's time for your donation.
In the room the money come and bring
For it's a fucking valuable thing
evercourant :
Shall I brush my hair up front? Do I dare to sell a seat? Fuck yes.
I shall wear a black tracksuit, and jog amidst the snow.
I have heard the attorneys singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding eastward on the airwaves
When I am combing my black hair of the hair blown back
When the wind blows the hair black and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the executive mansion
By candidates wreathed with colors red and blue
Till Fitzgerald's voice wakes us, and we drown.
sonnetastic (replying to above): How many times per day can we get married? Can we try for the record please?
evercourant : NO PLAUSIBLE LIMIT. DO ME THE HONORS BABY
sonnetastic :
You. Me. Now. ... with Jules and Jim in the background, apparently.
evercourant : xDDDDDDDDD THESE STILLS ARE KIND OF THE WAY I AM FEELING RIGHT NOW, SO I AM RIGHT ON BOARD. LET'S FLY TO GUAM
sonnetastic : Guam and Puerto Rico: as much taxation without representation as DC, but lots more sun -- so I'm in! ... Less chance of running into Rahm and forcing him to join our honeymoon party, though.
evercourant (new thread) :
What happens to a seat unfilled?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
Never mind
It's a fucking senate seat
It's not going to do any of those things, what the hell
But still
It's so fucking valuable
sonnetastic :
I bow before your mastery of poesy!
How about this, to make up a bit for it?
I, too, sing Illinois.
I am the &*(^)%$^************)(*^#_)_+@&^er brother.
They send me to serve in the prison
When Fitzgerald comes,
But I hold press conferences,
And quote poetry,
And grow strong (together with my hair which frankly grows stronger by the minute).
Tomorrow,
Burris'll be in the Senate
When Fitzgerald comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Serve in the prison,"
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful my hair is
And be ashamed--
I, too, am Illinois.
bookshop :
THIS POST IS A GIFT FROM GOD.
I'm a candidate for the Senate seat! Who are you!
Are you a candidate for the Senate seat too?
Then there's eighteen of us!
Don't tell! They'd discredit us, you know.
How dreary to have a free Senate seat!
You don't even get swag.
But ours is a fucking valuable thing,
On sale from our admirable Blag.
evercourant : AJA YOU FUCK, WHERE ARE THE FUCKING DASHES
bookshop : YOU FUCKING MOTHERFU
evercourant : DICKINSON WILL FUCK YOUR SHIT UP IF YOU DELETE HER DASHES, LOOK, WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK SHE IS, SYLVIA PLATH
bookshop : WHATEVER SHE CAN'T HURT ME SHE'D HAVE TO COME OUTSIDE FIRST
OH YEAH I WENT THERE BITCH
evercourant : FUCK YOU, YOU HEARTLESS FUCK, IT'S NOT HER FAULT HER FATHER DIDN'T LIVE IN ILLINOIS UNDER BLAGOJEVICH RULE AND THEREFORE WASN'T BLESSED WITH IMMORTALITY
bookshop : SORRY CAN'T TALK NOW, BUSY WRITING EE CUMMINGS PARODY IN ALL CAPS
kitty0_o :
The media can joke about my hair,
Compare it to an animal or two.
But lo! The secrets held within its locks
Would have reporters quaking in their shoes.
A muskrat seems to be their choice of late,
A badger, skunk, or rodents large and small.
But what they fail to see in their lame jokes
Will be at last their ultimate downfall.
For like old Sauron forged the one true ring,
My hair is a fucking valuable thing.
OKAY SO IT'S ONLY GOT 10 LINES AND I KILLED THE IAMBIC PENTAMETER IN THE LAST LINE BUT DO YOU CARE? OF COURSE YOU FUCKING DON'T.
mcollinknight : I LOVE HOW THE USE OF 'MOTHERFUCKERS' IS 'LOVELY.' THAT IS WHAT MAKES THIS COMM THE OPIUM DEN OF HAPPINESS THAT IT IS.
A+, MY FRIEND. A+
so much depends
upon
a senate
seat,
a tapped phone
conversation,
(now from inside the) jail
cell
sonnetastic (on the suggestion of metaquotes ): I don't know what that is (until and except for this community I have never been lj-active) but if you think it's a good idea, I think Blago would tell you "to thine own self be true. Also, neither a borrower nor a *&$#^ing lender be -- at least not if you're in a position to pressure the President-elect into having Warren Buffett raise some money for you instead!"
(Rahm, by contrast, would say: "I got me three kids. Now the littlest one she loves chocolate. I mean, reaaally loooooves chocolate. But we always tell her, you can't have any chocolate until you've finished what's on your plate. ... Wait, where was I going with -- er -- well, you can figure out how to finish that metaphor for yourselves ... ")
Context is flocked and I wish I could quote it all, it's amazing.
I have filled
the Senate seat
that it was in
my power to fill
and which you were probably
saving
for Quinn
Forgive me
it was a $(*)ing valuable thing
so sweet
and so *(^)ing golden
Needless to say, everyone is encouraged to offer further tributes to the brilliance of Blago ... and I don't just mean the brilliance of his hundred-strokes-of-the-comb-every-morning hair.
schmiss: [subject: Fun fact: this is the only thing my English studies have been good for]
LET us go then, you and me,
Before the evening's old like Mayor Daley
Like putting impeachment on the table;
Let us go, through certain Chi-town streets,
And talk of selling seats
The positions that we'll buy and sell
Maybe I'll get a position as well:
Energy would be a present
Cause all the money is in it
Which leads you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not give me appreciation:
It's time for your donation.
In the room the money come and bring
For it's a fucking valuable thing
evercourant :
Shall I brush my hair up front? Do I dare to sell a seat? Fuck yes.
I shall wear a black tracksuit, and jog amidst the snow.
I have heard the attorneys singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding eastward on the airwaves
When I am combing my black hair of the hair blown back
When the wind blows the hair black and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the executive mansion
By candidates wreathed with colors red and blue
Till Fitzgerald's voice wakes us, and we drown.
sonnetastic (replying to above): How many times per day can we get married? Can we try for the record please?
evercourant : NO PLAUSIBLE LIMIT. DO ME THE HONORS BABY
sonnetastic :
You. Me. Now. ... with Jules and Jim in the background, apparently.
evercourant : xDDDDDDDDD THESE STILLS ARE KIND OF THE WAY I AM FEELING RIGHT NOW, SO I AM RIGHT ON BOARD. LET'S FLY TO GUAM
sonnetastic : Guam and Puerto Rico: as much taxation without representation as DC, but lots more sun -- so I'm in! ... Less chance of running into Rahm and forcing him to join our honeymoon party, though.
evercourant (new thread) :
What happens to a seat unfilled?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
Never mind
It's a fucking senate seat
It's not going to do any of those things, what the hell
But still
It's so fucking valuable
sonnetastic :
I bow before your mastery of poesy!
How about this, to make up a bit for it?
I, too, sing Illinois.
I am the &*(^)%$^************)(*^#_)_+@&^er brother.
They send me to serve in the prison
When Fitzgerald comes,
But I hold press conferences,
And quote poetry,
And grow strong (together with my hair which frankly grows stronger by the minute).
Tomorrow,
Burris'll be in the Senate
When Fitzgerald comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Serve in the prison,"
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful my hair is
And be ashamed--
I, too, am Illinois.
bookshop :
THIS POST IS A GIFT FROM GOD.
I'm a candidate for the Senate seat! Who are you!
Are you a candidate for the Senate seat too?
Then there's eighteen of us!
Don't tell! They'd discredit us, you know.
How dreary to have a free Senate seat!
You don't even get swag.
But ours is a fucking valuable thing,
On sale from our admirable Blag.
evercourant : AJA YOU FUCK, WHERE ARE THE FUCKING DASHES
bookshop : YOU FUCKING MOTHERFU
evercourant : DICKINSON WILL FUCK YOUR SHIT UP IF YOU DELETE HER DASHES, LOOK, WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK SHE IS, SYLVIA PLATH
bookshop : WHATEVER SHE CAN'T HURT ME SHE'D HAVE TO COME OUTSIDE FIRST
OH YEAH I WENT THERE BITCH
evercourant : FUCK YOU, YOU HEARTLESS FUCK, IT'S NOT HER FAULT HER FATHER DIDN'T LIVE IN ILLINOIS UNDER BLAGOJEVICH RULE AND THEREFORE WASN'T BLESSED WITH IMMORTALITY
bookshop : SORRY CAN'T TALK NOW, BUSY WRITING EE CUMMINGS PARODY IN ALL CAPS
kitty0_o :
The media can joke about my hair,
Compare it to an animal or two.
But lo! The secrets held within its locks
Would have reporters quaking in their shoes.
A muskrat seems to be their choice of late,
A badger, skunk, or rodents large and small.
But what they fail to see in their lame jokes
Will be at last their ultimate downfall.
For like old Sauron forged the one true ring,
My hair is a fucking valuable thing.
OKAY SO IT'S ONLY GOT 10 LINES AND I KILLED THE IAMBIC PENTAMETER IN THE LAST LINE BUT DO YOU CARE? OF COURSE YOU FUCKING DON'T.
mcollinknight : I LOVE HOW THE USE OF 'MOTHERFUCKERS' IS 'LOVELY.' THAT IS WHAT MAKES THIS COMM THE OPIUM DEN OF HAPPINESS THAT IT IS.
A+, MY FRIEND. A+
so much depends
upon
a senate
seat,
a tapped phone
conversation,
(now from inside the) jail
cell
sonnetastic (on the suggestion of metaquotes ): I don't know what that is (until and except for this community I have never been lj-active) but if you think it's a good idea, I think Blago would tell you "to thine own self be true. Also, neither a borrower nor a *&$#^ing lender be -- at least not if you're in a position to pressure the President-elect into having Warren Buffett raise some money for you instead!"
(Rahm, by contrast, would say: "I got me three kids. Now the littlest one she loves chocolate. I mean, reaaally loooooves chocolate. But we always tell her, you can't have any chocolate until you've finished what's on your plate. ... Wait, where was I going with -- er -- well, you can figure out how to finish that metaphor for yourselves ... ")
Context is flocked and I wish I could quote it all, it's amazing.