Tuesday, October 25, 2016

In Paducah Where the Tuscaloosa

Watching the Cubs in their first World Series game in 71 years. The umpire seems to have a different strike zone for the Indians pitcher than he does for Lester. If there was any fix in here I would have assumed it would have been in favor of the Cubs, but then again, how are the scumbag degenerate gamblers going to make any money betting on the Cubs?

I'm guessing there a lot of Cub fans in Paducah. Probably a lot of Cardinals fans, a few Reds fans, and maybe some Atlanta Braves fans. The Outsider Poets of Padukah mostly are indifferent to sports. 

I'm sitting here eating quinoa I've left in the pot a little too long and has gotten soggy. My doctor recommended today that I start taking Niacin. I looked it up and I'm slightly worried about the flushing effect and skin irritation, but they say it's not a serious issue and can be mitigated by starting with a lower dosage and building up. 

Feels like Cleveland has this game pretty well in hand now. Schwarber just gave the ball a ride, but this team has been notorious for going stone cold when it gets cold. It's supposed to be unseasonably warm later in the week for the games in Chicago.

I see the guy for Dead Or Alive passed away earlier in the week, and guy who started Crusader Comics. I went looking for a copy of Dungeon of Darkness, but apparently they'll print out thousands of them and send them to you if you promise to hand them out to people ar rock and roll festivals.

We have a new dog and I have less than nothing to say this week. I am entirely out of sync and still have dental work to get through before the end of the year.

This game is turning out to be pretty miserable, like the two shutout games they played against the Dodgers. I think I'll go read some submissions to Zombie Logic Review. 

Friday, October 7, 2016

The Outsider Poets of Padukah Try To Donate Books To Local Library

There was a spot of bother last week when the Outsider Poets of Padukah tried to donate several books to the local library. The problem was they were poetry books, and the library refused to accept them. Then the poets were asked to leave and their library cards and lending privileges were revoked. 

This would have been humiliation enough for the poets, but as wind of the attempted poetry donation leaked out a flash mob had formed outside the library and began pelting the poets with zucchinis as they tried to leave. 

Undeterred, the Outsider Poets of Padukah resolved that they would donate the books to some worthy, and unsuspecting cause or be the worse for trying. Who is it that would be least able to fight off their charity they thought. The sick? The elderly? Children? 

It was decided sick children would be the most receptive audience for the books as they had the least chance of fighting back against poetry. So they went to the children's hospital and stealthily attempted to leave the books in a garbage can in one of the bathrooms, but they were sniffed out by an orderly who has a nose for poetry, and asked to leave the premises (with the books). Similar results were achieved at the old folks home and the local asylum, and by the end of the afternoon news had spread throughout the metropolitan area and the OPP were unwelcome everywhere they went. 

The moral of the story is don't write books. It's a terrible thing to do. Watch more television. Right now I got two screens going. One is on The Human Duplicators, and the other is on Dawn of the Dead. I just ate half a container of salty sunflower seeds, and since this is my final blog of the night I want to give a shout out to this great blog of Outlaw Poetry by Thomas L. Vaultonburg which is an ironical title because the poetry is fake. I always fake the poetry in case anyone is watching. 

I have actually been in Padukah four times, and slept there once, and ate at the Waffle House there once. People love the Waffle House, but they really screwed up our entire order and even made bad toast and eggs. I wasn't very impressed, but I think Paducah is the near south and the real Waffle Houses are probably in the deep south, but someone said eat at the Krystal Burger and we did in Alabama and it felt like they steamed sour, rotten meat. We did get a good peach nearby, though, and the oysters were good. A shark swam through my legs in the Gulf. 

Sunday, October 2, 2016

It Rained Outsider Poetry In Every Town But Padukah

Both of my parents had to work when I was a small child because of Republican economics, and I spent a lot of time with my grandma listening to country music. Rock and roll was not allowed in her house. Even the racier outlaw country was frowned upon, but no one could keep Johnny Cash from being played even if he did say hell and shot on Live From Folsom Prison.

What was allowed was Tom T Hall. Not only allowed, but encouraged, and since he had recorded an album for children I heard it hundreds of time. He became one of my favorite songwriters.

My de facto father-in-law recently gave me a stack of his old LP records with Live From Folsom Prison and a few Tom T Hall records, one which contains the song "It Rained In Every Town But Padukah." Then it rained in Padukah, too.

As I sit here eating pretzels and drinking a Perrier and wait for the family to get home from a late season amusement park visit, I'd kind of like to put that record on right now, but I'm too lazy.

I'm kind of uptight because I have a very close fantasy football match that will be decided tonight and tomorrow. Not sure what happened to the Tampa Bay and Dencer game. I guess it rained there, too.

Are there really only two entries in the Outsider Poets of Padukah blog. I feel certain I had written more, but I can't remember. I've never had a blog deleted, so I have to assume I have only written in this blog three times.

Four now. I need Marcus Peter and Harrison Smith to score ten points on defense, which is less than they have averaged the first three weeks, to win.

I already did cardio and yoga today, and paid the bills for October, so I have the luxury of sitting here in the dark tapping away at this nonsense and watching The Monster Club on You Tube. 

Pretzels and Perrier are a good combination. 

Saturday, September 10, 2016

Fantasy Football Outsider Poetry Draft

The Paducah Plain Speakers outsider poetry slam team recently held their annual fantasy football draft at the Regency Hilton, and there were a few surprises. 

Teddy Roosevalt was once again drafted, for the seventeenth straight season, but hasn't suited up once.

Crystal McCracken drafted an unusual team, with six kickers in the starting lineup. All in all over twenty poets were drafted at the quarterback position. None are starters in the NFL.

The Regency was a wonderful hotel with an all you can eat breakfast of toasts and powdered eggs and grapes and stuff. There was cable in the room and I watched a few re-runs of Mr. Ed om MeTV before bed. I got a little worked up because I was excited about my team, and was happy to get Antonio Brown in the sixth round when no one else seemed to know who he was. Here's my team...

QB Cam Newton
QB Aaron Rodgers
QB Tom Brady
RB David Johnson
RB Lamar Miller
RB Ezekial Elliot
RB laveon Bell
WR Antonio Brown
WR Julio Jones
WR Deandre Hopkins
WR Odell Bechkam Jr.
TE Rob Gronkowski
TE Jordan Reed
K Lyndon Larouche

I feel like a made a mistake overlooking Sylvia Plath and Denise Levertov in the middle rounds, but it's hard to pass up Julio Jones in the 7th round.

I guess we'll find out Sunday how I did. 

I have to go to a garage sale on the block now.

Friday, September 18, 2015

Outsider Poets of Padukah

The Outsider Poets of Padukah are not happy with the direction Outsider Poetry has been going in the 21st century. 

Outsider Poets of Padukah

I'm excited that Sam Acho is returning to the Bears roster this week, and I'm bummed that Duke Ianacho has been put on injured reserve. 

What is Outsider Poetry?

Nothing, really. Apparently. In the past it was a catch-all category for poetry or art created primarily by mental patients or self-trained artists. I'm really kind of sick of talking about it. I never really tire of the name Paducah, though, and I occasionally feel the need to refresh my memory of the best funny sounding names of cities.





Then I always forget the last one, or two, because I insist there are six, but I never can remember all of them. If you want to post the funny name of a city here go ahead. I'll probably come back later when I remember and add the other one.

Last night was interesting on Thursday Night Football, and somewhat liberating for me in that I had put a lot of energy and thought into my drafts, but as soon as the game started people who hadn't put any thought into it were playing Knile Davis and I knew he would score a touchdown in the game eventually even if he was a negligible part of the game plan, and he did, and I couldn't do anything but laugh because it felt completely freeing in that I realized it was pointless to care about something so much because all of life is random and it seems at times the more you care about something the more the Universe seems determined to teach you a hard lesson that you're not in charge here.

But unfortunately for you I am sort of in charge here at Outsider Poets of Padukah. I'd like to explain to you why this blog exists at all, but see the above paragraph for the only explanation I can offer. I feel I need to slip a lot of the Universe's sucker punches by just continuing to press forward. 

Dat Paducah Outsider Poetry ass. No idea why this picture shows up when I search for Paducah, but then again, having been to Paducah, it makes a lot of sense. Here at Paducah Outsider Poets we're not intentionally trying to show you our ass. Really, that's not what any of this about. 

The next five exits are all Paducah, so get off wherever you want, with whomever you want, using any combination of genitalia and/or props you want, I really don't care. I need a lot more words here, don't I? The Waffle House is very popular in the South, and you start seeing them as soon as you get to the Southern tip of Illinois, which might as well be Mississippi for the most part, and I went in one in Paducah, and I have to tell you it wasn't very good. Breakfast food isn't that hard to prepare, and at the Waffle House that's what they do, so when they burn toast, put runny eggs on a plate, and can't get bacon or coffee right I'm left wondering about the culinary judgement of people all throughout the American South. Also, see the above picture. Kentucky and Tennessee were a delight to drive through, and I stopped to see Hitler's typewriter, which could have ended up nowhere but in Alabama. 

Next Outsider Poets of Padukah meeting will be held in Kokomo on December 2nd. Bring a dish to pass, but, please, no poems.

It was then that I knew the Padukah Poets were carrying me.