The 20 Worst Songs I've Ever Heard

20)  Cutting Crew ~ "(I Just) Died In Your Arms" – As the singer cries out, "I just died in your arms tonight – it must've been something you said", I can only assume his love probably said something really nice to him. Which makes me wonder what would have happened if she'd something insulting? Would he have died at her feet instead? "I just died in your arms." How romantic! That was a real nice thing you said, Sweetie – what a shame our relationship must end here, with my dead, bloating carcass resting comfortably in your loving arms. You should've walked away, dude!

19)  Aqua ~ "Barbie Girl" – Forgive me if the line "C'mon, Barbie, let's go party" sticks in your head long after you hear this. But remember – I didn't write the song. A really annoying person wrote the song, apparently. The "Barbie Girl" from the song title flounces about in clothes that would make Katy Perry proud, while her "Ken" just creeps out Barbie and everybody else royally. Seriously, what is up with that guy's voice? It sounds like he's been gargling with razor blades! And his hair – what little of it there is – who thought that was a good idea? But this is about the songs, right? And this song...well, it's just another pointless dance song.

18)  Eric Carmen ~ "All By Myself" – This has got to be one of the sappiest, most self-deprecating songs ever! "Oh! Woe is me, my life is garbage, I can't even get a date," the singer moans – though not in those words exactly. Hey, dude, did you ever consider that maybe you're all by yourself 'cuz you're a wussy guy who sings like an insecure girl? And while you're at it – get a haircut, hippie! :)

17)  Wild Cherry ~ "Play That Funky Music" – I don't even know where to begin with this one – it might not be a bad song if there were no singing, especially no singing of lyrics as bad as these. In fact, I'd probably play this song a lot if it were an instrumental. As it is, I don't and won't ever own this song, or ever listen to it again. On purpose.

16)  Right Said Fred ~ "I'm Too Sexy" – After listening to this song once, it becomes glaringly obvious – if you believe the singer, that is – that he is too sexy for his shirt, his land, your party, his car, his hat, his cat, and his love . He concludes by staying that, ultimately, he's also too sexy for this song, at which point the song ends. He'd also like to remind you that he's a model – you know what he means? As a model, it's not uncommon for him to "do a little turn" and shake his little tush "on the catwalk." You're right, Fred, that is "too sexy." I'll take a rain check.

15)  Rick Astley ~ "Never Gonna Give You Up" – Chances are, if you've spent any time at all on YouTube, you've unintentionally seen this video – in other words, you've been "Rick-Rolled". It's long been a popular ploy to make people click on a video that they think is about one thing – say, an exclusive video about a popular news story – and when you click on the video, this crappy music video is what you get. It's ridiculous, but every time it happens to you, you feel humiliated all over again. Every time that I'm "Rick-Rolled," this song blows me away yet again with its awfulness. Plus, every time I see Rick's 12-year-old-looking face and hear this deep, middle-aged-man voice coming out of it, it just messes with my head. Please – make it stop!

14)  Snow ~ "Informer" – This song showcases a nerdy white man doing a fast-paced hybrid of reggae and rap about as well as any nerdy white man ever has – which is to say, not very well. What the heck is this guy saying anyway, besides "licky boom boom down" which means...what, exactly?

13)  Michael Bolton ~ "How Am I Supposed To Live Without You?" – I'm sure this song holds special meaning for people who've lost their true loves, and don't know how they're supposed to live without them now that they've been loving them so long, and don't know how they're supposed to carry on when all that they've been living for is gone. And that's all well and good. I think it's mostly Michael Bolton, with his chiseled features, long curly hair, and imposing stature that I can't stand. Am I jealous of his looks? Maybe. Am I jealous of his whiny, screaming-cuz-I-can't-quite-hit-the-high-notes-but-still-need-to-sound-like-my-heart-is-breaking tenor voice? Definitely not.

12)  New Kids On The Block "Hangin' Tough" – Nobody thought the New Kids On The Block were cooler than they did themselves. But thousands of others – especially screaming teenage girls – thought they were cool, too. But when you really think about it, most of their songs actually sucked. Take some of the lyrics from this song, for example: "Listen up, everybody, if you wanna take a chance / Just get on the floor and do the New Kids dance / Don't worry 'bout nothing 'cause it won't take long / We're gonna put you in a trance with a funky song / 'Cause you gotta be hangin' tough..." Um, okay, if you say so. And their singing wasn't really much to write home about, either. So what exactly was so "tough" about these guys? Let me guess: it was their looks, right?

11)  Billy Ray Cyrus ~ "Achy Breaky Heart"– Me not being a huge country music fan, you might wonder at the fact that this is the one and only country song on my list. Maybe it's just the generic sound of the song itself, the so-so voice of Billy Ray (others in country have been and are much better than he is), or maybe it's just his business-in-the-front-party-in-the-back mullet that I can't stand. Any way you shake it, this song received far more acclaim and popularity than it ever should have. Incidentally, Billy Ray's daughter, Miley, has been a recipient of the same kind of hype and popularity for her limited talent, too. I guess it runs in the family.

10)  Starship ~ "We Built This City" – There are probably lots of people who like this song, an all-out-there anthem to rock-and-roll. But I'm not one of them. I like coherency in my lyrics, and this junk – "Marconi plays the Mamba / Listen to the radio / Don't you remember? / We built this city on rock and roll!" – just doesn't cut it. All in all, the song isn't horrible, it just isn't as good as Starship and their many fans think it is.

9)  The Vapors ~ "Turning Japanese" – So, presumably, this guy's "turning Japanese" because he's suddenly gone hog-wild about taking pictures of his girl – which means that the whole song's based on a bad cultural stereotype. He also wants her doctor to take a picture of her insides so he can see those as well. That's kinda creepy –  I'm pretty sure Japanese people don't do that unless there's a medical reason for it. This dude's just "turning into a skeeze!"

8)  Hanson ~ "MMMBop" – I'm probably going to get smacked – literally or figuratively  – by somebody for including this song in my list, but I can't help disliking it. Even though it's not played as much as it used to be, time hasn't made the song any better. The young lead singer's voice is still high-pitched, quite slurred, and frequently strained. The lyrics – including its infamous chorus: "MMMBop, ba dubi dop ba do bop, Ba dubi dop ba do bop, Ba dubi dop ba do" – still don't make any sense. It's been a long time since this song was a hit, but you still hear it on the radio occasionally. In ten or twenty years' time, though, "can you tell me who will still care?"

7)  Crash Test Dummies ~ "Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm" – This guy's voice is ridiculously bad – it sounds like a record being played on the wrong speed – but the song lyrics are even worse. Don't believe me? Check out the first verse: "Once there was kid who / Got into an accident and couldn't come to school / But when he finally came back / His hair had turned from black into bright white / He said that it was from when the cars had smashed it so hard / Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm / Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm..." And it just gets worse from there. Incidentally, "Weird" Al Yankovic's spoof of this song, called "Headline News", is way better, and succeeds at being funny on purpose, not just funny because it's so awful.

6)  Countess Luann ~ "Money Can't Buy You Class" – This "song" is one of many reasons why "reality TV stars" should never be allowed to see – much less use – a recording studio. While it may or may not be true that money can't buy you class – although the slutty-looking lingerie the Countess is wearing here seems to belie the fact that she considers herself classy – the one thing money most definitely can't buy you is a good singing voice. It can buy you plenty of plastic surgery so you don't look like you're in your late-40s (when you actually are). Money can even buy you singing lessons with the best vocal coaches in the world – but if you ain't got it, you simply ain't got it! And Countess Luann, you ain't got it. And you'll never have it, no matter how much money you throw down for it.

5)  Baha Men ~ "Who Let The Dogs Out?" – This is absolutely the most pointless song ever recorded. The only two things it's got going for it are as follows:  (a) These guys imitate a dog's woofing sound remarkably well when they say "Who? Who? Who? Who? Who?" in time to the beat.  (b) The song does have a good beat, and you can dance to it – which is really the point anyway, isn't it?

4)  Kim Zolciak ~ "Don't Be Tardy For The Party" – This monstrosity is yet another example of a "reality TV star" thinking she can sing, and being horribly wrong. The fact that the hook for this insipid song gets stuck in my head for minutes after it's over makes me hate it even more. Don't quit your day job, Kim! (Whatever that is.) Reality TV will probably never die – Lord help us all! – but awful songs like this one (thankfully) have a very short shelf life.

3)  Vanilla Ice ~ "Ice Ice Baby" – Four words: Worst. White. Rapper. Ever. Admittedly, that isn't saying much. But let's take a closer look at the lyrics to this surprisingly popular song (at the time, at least): "All right, stop, collaborate, and listen / Ice is back with my brand new invention / Something grabs a hold of me tightly / Then I flow like a harpoon daily and nightly / Will it ever stop? Yo, I don't know / Turn off the lights, and I'll glow / To the extreme, I rock a mic like a vandal / Light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle." First of all, he used the word "collaborate" incorrectly – I'm not quite sure what word he meant to use, but "collaborate" wasn't it. Second, he's "back"? Where was he before? Why didn't he stay there, wherever that was? Thirdly, "my brand new invention" – what was that again, white boy rap? OK, so maybe he did invent it. But it's only gotten exponentially better since then. Fourthly, does a harpoon actually "flow"? Fifthly, does a vandal really "rock a mic"? Sixthly, I don't know exactly what's involved in waxing a chump like a candle, but I'm pretty sure I don't want to be there when it happens. That's all I got – "Word to your mother!"

2)  Paul Anka ~ "You're Having My Baby" – So, nine months of morning (and sometimes night) sickness, swollen feet, strange cravings, and finally an excruciating delivery – that was all for me? To show me how much you love me? Thanks, babe. I owe ya one! After all, "you're the woman I love and I love what it's doin' to ya, and I love what's goin' through ya." Who was the guy – and it had to be a guy – that let this misogynistic mess hit the airwaves in the first place? Whoever he is, he's probably living a very lonely life right now.

1)  Rebecca Black ~ "Friday" – This is the absolute best example that I can come up with as to what's wrong with popular music today. Anybody and their brother (or sister) can turn on their AutoTune machine, sing as badly as humanly possible, and still sound somewhat polished. Only thing is...young Rebecca Black still manages to sound flat, nasally, and out of tune, even with AutoTune on her voice the entire time! Add to that the stupidest lyrics ever set to "music," and you've got my all-time least favorite song AND the worst song I've ever heard, all in one three-minute track. These lyrics are so bad, I just had to post them in their entirety (below the video) – except for all the oo-ooh-ooh" and "yeah-ah-ah" parts (you'll hear those in the video, and that's bad enough).

"7am, wakin' up in the morning

Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs

Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal

Seein' everything, the time is goin'

Tickin' on and on, everybody's rushin'

Gotta get down to the bus stop

Gotta catch my bus, I see my friends

Kickin' in the front seat

Sittin' in the back seat

Gotta make my mind up

Which seat can I take?

It's Friday, Friday

Gotta get down on Friday

Everybody's lookin' forward

To the weekend, weekend

Friday, Friday

Gettin' down on Friday

Everybody's lookin' forward

To the weekend

Partyin', partyin', yeah!

Partyin', partyin', yeah!

Fun, fun, fun, fun

Lookin' forward to the weekend.

7:45, we're drivin' on the highway

Cruisin' so fast, I want time to fly

Fun, fun, think about fun

You know what it is

I got this, you got this

My friend is by my right, ay!

I got this, you got this

Now you know it.

Kickin' in the front seat

Sittin' in the back seat

Gotta make my mind up

Which seat can I take?

It's Friday, Friday

Gotta get down on Friday

Everybody's lookin' forward

To the weekend, weekend

Friday, Friday

Gettin' down on Friday

Everybody's lookin' forward

To the weekend

Partyin', partyin', yeah!

Partyin', partyin', yeah!

Fun, fun, fun, fun

Lookin' forward to the weekend.

Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday

Today i-is Friday, Friday

We-we-we so excited

We so excited

We gonna have a ball today

Tomorrow is Saturday

And Sunday comes afterwards

I don't want this weekend to end.

(RAP)

R-B, Rebecca Black

So chillin' in the front seat

In the back seat

I'm drivin', cruisin'

Fast lanes, switchin' lanes

Wit' a car up on my side

Passin' by is a school bus

In front of me

Makes tick tock, tick tock

Wanna scream

Check my time, it's Friday

It's a weekend

We gonna have fun

C'mon, c'mon, y'all!

It's Friday, Friday

Gotta get down on Friday

Everybody's lookin' forward

To the weekend, weekend

Friday, Friday

Gettin' down on Friday

Everybody's lookin' forward

To the weekend

Partyin', partyin', yeah!

Partyin', partyin', yeah!

Fun, fun, fun, fun

Lookin' forward to the weekend..."

Short Story: "Renting Out The Guest Room"

This is that other story I was telling you about the other day. I didn't mean to write another new story. It just sort of happened. I didn't see how the story was going to go until I started writing it, so I was as surprised by the denouement as you (hopefully) will be. Here goes something. Hope you like it.

"RENTING OUT THE GUEST ROOM"

We've been trying to get rid of this place for years. It's too small, there's no yard, and the neighbors are annoying (and you can hear them through the walls). We've even put it up for sale a few times, but there haven't been any takers. 

Finally, a few months ago we decided that we might as well take advantage of our situation, and make a little money from the place since we can't seem to get rid of it. With two bedrooms and two bathrooms, and there only being the two of us, we thought: Why not rent out the other bedroom and start saving a little money to go towards our retirement? Sure, it'd be a tad inconvenient with only the one shower, but we'd make it work. Especially if the renter was someone we knew – that wouldn't be so bad, right? Turns out it was the worst idea we ever had. 

My friend Gibby – not his real name, but no one ever calls him Lowell – needed a place to stay for a few months while he was looking for a more permanent place. He wasn't interesting in buying our apartment, though we did try to sell him on it. 

Gibby was starting school in a couple of months and needed some time to get reacquainted with the city he once knew well. It's grown so much here in the years since he moved way, and Gibby said he could barely find his way around anymore. 

He found a decent job – not a great one, mind you – that paid well enough to afford the rent and stock our fridge with his food. Gibby didn't have a car, but there was a bus stop right down the road and he said he didn't mind taking the bus to work. 

All in all, a low-risk situation for us. Sure, we wouldn't have much privacy for the next couple of months, but it was only temporary. Plus, we'd have a little extra money in the bank when it was all said and done. Little did we know what Gibby liked to do in his spare time (and in our spare room, as it turns out). 

Early one Thursday evening, my wife and I saw flashing red and blue lights illuminating the night sky just outside our patio. I peeked out the back door window and saw two officers approaching. One of them knocked on the door a half-second before I opened it. 

Without preamble, the taller of the two officers stated, "Good evening. We're looking for a Lowell Gibson who lives at this address." 

"He does live here," I said, "But he's at work right now. He doesn't usually get home till around 11:30. Can I ask what this is all about?" 

The shorter officer piped in at this point. "We need to ask him a few questions about some girls that have gone missing." 

My wife, who'd remained on the couch, let out a gasp, and I stifled one of my own. "Gibby?" I exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Officer, but I think you've got the wrong guy. Gibby – uh, Lowell – is harmless. He wouldn't hurt a fly." 

"That's what they said about Norman Bates, too, isn't it?" replied the taller officer. 

"Norman who?" I inquired. 

"Bates. From Psycho," said the shorter officer, whose name badge read – ironically – "Norman". "The movie, you know?" 

I nodded that I understood, then quickly shook my head confusedly. "Wait a second. You guys really think that Gibby had something to do with some missing girls? Really?" 

My wife walked up behind me and put her arm around my waist; I could feel her fingers quivering just slightly. 

"Let's just say we have some questions for him," said the taller officer, whose name, according to his badge, was "Kellum". These guys talked like a bad episode of Law And Order, but they seemed otherwise legit.

"Well, come in if you'd like," I invited them. "But I told you, Gibby – ah, Lowell – is not here." 

"Do you mind if we take a look around?" asked Norman, doing just that with his eyes as he spoke. 

I quickly weighed the options. What's more important: My loyalty to my oldest and dearest friend, or my duty as a citizen to let these officers paw around in said friend's stuff? 

"Certainly," my wife interjected, making the decision for us both. 

"Um," I gulped, glaring at her briefly before returning my gaze to Officer Kellum. "Do you fellas have a – a whatchamacallit – a search warrant?" 

"No," replied Kellum, staring intently at me. "Do we need one?" 

Before I could answer him, my wife blurted out, "Certainly not!" I gave her another dirty look – which obviously did no good – and the officers began their search. 

For a second or two, they simply stood right where they were, observing I assumed, since they're trained to do that. Then – with Norman in the lead, followed closely by Kellum – they proceeded to the kitchen. The room seemed to hold little interest for either of them, so they headed up the stairs.

"Gibby's room is the one on the right!" my wife called up helpfully, and began ascending the stairs after them. I threw up my hands helplessly, and trailed behind her. 

We both stopped in the hallway at the top of the stairs, seeing that both bedroom doors hung wide open. Kellum was in our bedroom, taking a cursory glance at every surface, stooping briefly to peer under our bed, before proceeding to our bathroom and – by the sound of it – rifling through the closet. 

"I've got something!" shouted Officer Norman, a little too excitedly from our guest room – Gibby's room. My wife took a step in his direction, but Norman held up a hand of warning, saying, "Ma'am, it's best if you stay right where you are." Seriously, what was this, Dragnet 2012?

Kellum stomped through our hallway of bathrooms and popped his head inside the guest bedroom doorway. "What is it?" he asked. 

"What kinda necklace was that Popkin girl wearing when she was last seen?" 

Kellum shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. 

"I'll tell you what it was," Norman answered himself. "It was a charm necklace with her name on it. 'C-A-N-D-Y'. See it right here?" As Norman held up the necklace for all to see, my wife and I exchanged a horrified glance. 

"What's that on the 'D' there?" said Kellum and took a step forward to grab the necklace in his gloved hand. "Looks like blood to me." 

"That it does," replied Norman.

"Oh, no!" my wife cried, and buried her face in my chest. 

"There's lots more of 'em, too," said Norman, half-grinning, seemingly enjoying all of this a bit more than the rest of us. "Bracelets, rings, driver's licenses, a finger." 

"A finger?" I shouted, incredulously. "There's a finger in there?" 

"See for yourself." Norman extended a small keepsake box toward me, and I hesitantly looked inside just long enough to see a slender finger with a ring near the base of it. 

"I'm guessing he just wanted to keep the ring, but couldn't get it off, so he just hacked off the finger instead," said Norman, as calmly as though this were an everyday occurrence. If it is, I don't ever want to know. 

"I'm gonna call in forensics," said Kellum, and disappeared once more inside the bathroom. 

Norman set the box down on Gibby's bed, and approached us in the hallway. "Listen, folks, this place is now an active crime scene, and there's gonna be lots of people in and out the next couple of days. It might be best if you just spent two or three days in a hotel." 

"But –" my wife blurted.

"Ma'am, it's not a request," Norman interrupted. "You two gotta split. Pack only the clothes you need for a few days, and leave everything else as it is. We'll take care of everything else."

I furrowed my brow in confusion. I'd probably been doing so off and on since the officers had arrived. "This is crazy! You can't just kick us out of our house!" I shouted. 

"We can, and we are," replied Norman. "Now, forensics will be here any minute, so you two need to go ahead and clear out of here." 

I was certain that the attitude and bluster that these two officers – Norman in particular – had displayed was anything but according to procedure. But they had badges, and there was a probably-dead girl's necklace in a box in our guest bedroom, so we didn't have much room to complain. 

I still couldn't believe any of this was happening. Gibby, a kidnapper? A killer? None of this made sense. But we did as we were told, packed our things, gave our cell phone numbers to Officer Kellum, and left our apartment. 

Two weeks later (not two or three days, as Norman had incorrectly estimated) – after Gibby had been arrested and his room had been searched from top to bottom for evidence (and much had been found) – we were allowed to return home. 

The cops had left a mess, especially in the guest bedroom. We'd been questioned numerous times in the past two weeks and urged to tell the police anything we might have remembered seeing or hearing that was suspicious. There was nothing to tell – we were as flummoxed by all that had occurred as was the general public. 

As we would find out later, Gibby had never gotten a job since moving into our home. He had indeed been working at night, but not for money. Apparently, it had been for the thrill of killing. 

Gibby had murdered sixteen girls and young women in cold blood during the four weeks he had lived with us. Five of them had been killed in our guest bedroom while my wife and I were out to dinner or at church. 

He had done an exceptionally good job of covering his tracks. If it hadn't been for the "souvenirs" they'd found in his room, and the one body he hadn't hidden well enough which bore his DNA, he might never have been caught at all. Who knows how long my old friend might have continued killing? And if we'd ever found out, we might have been among his victims, too. 

It shouldn't come as much of a surprise that our house is now up for sale again. It also shouldn't come as a surprise that no one's interested in buying it. Oh, there have been a few showings, mostly sickos who wanted to see where one of the worst serial killers in this state's history did his dirty deeds. Folks with morbid curiosity, but who had no real interest in living in a slaughter house. So we're stuck here once again, and probably forever. 

We've thought about burning the place down to collect on the insurance, but nobody would ever believe it was an accident. Plus, with it being an apartment building, it just wouldn't be right to destroy other people's homes as well as our own. 

We've fixed the place up quite nicely in the past couple of months. We even got a professional in to clean the carpets. If you didn't know better, you'd never suspect that anything so terrible ever happened here. But you do know better, and so does everyone else. So here we stay. 

You know what the ironic thing about all this is? Since he was such a good friend, I didn't make Gibby pay up front. Then he was arrested before the first month was up. So we didn't even get any rent money out of the deal.

People Named "Foot" Who Want To Date You

1)  Caroline Foot:  A former butterfly swimmer from Great Britain, Caroline represented her country at the 1988 and 1996 Summer Olympics. In 1997, she won the bronze medal at the European Championships in the women's 4 x 100m medley relay. Caroline likes puppies, rainbows, and long walks on the beach – but she'll only swim in the water if you give her a medal for doing so – preferably a gold one this time. Please, and thank you.

Caroline Foot

2)  David Foot:  David is a Canadian economist and demographer whose research focuses on the impact of demographics on economics (shocking!), especially as pertaining to the aging of the Baby Boomers. David likes counting to a hundred in his best "Kermit The Frog" voice, flying paper airplanes, and discussing the eating habits of giraffes.

David Foot

3)  Sir Dingle Mackintosh Foot:  Dingle was a British lawyer and politician prior to his death in 1978. He was a Liberal Member of Parliament for Dundee from 1931 - 1945 and a Labour Member of Parliament for Ipswich from 1957 - 1970. Dingle died in a hotel in Hong Kong after choking on a bone in a chicken sandwich; but he hopes his being dead won't keep you from giving him a call. Dingle likes being called "Sir," drinking massive amounts of Mt. Dew (but only out of glass bottles), and occasionally being seen by the living (usually out of the corner of one's eye, and only for half a second).

Sir Dingle Foot

4)  Jessica Foot:  Jessica has been playing the oboe since age 10. She completed her Bachelor of Music Performance at the Victorian College of the Arts in 2004. That same year, Jessica was awarded the Friends of the VCA Encouragement Award. Jessica likes playing the oboe, listening to other people play the oboe, and saying the word "oboe" repeatedly with her mouth full of marshmallows.

Jessica Foot

5)  Sean Foot:  Sean is an award-winning prosthetics makeup technician from New Zealand who has worked on several classic films, including The Lord Of The Rings trilogy and The Chronicles Of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe. He had this little dust-up with the law a few years back, something to do with drugs, but he wants you to know that even though he pled guilty it wasn't his fault. It wasn't his Ectsasy, and he doesn't know how it got in his pocket or in his bloodstream. Sean likes making normal-sized people look like hobbits, playing the New Zealand national anthem on his lucky kazoo, and getting really stoned (wait, did he just say that out loud? Um, just forget he ever said that, okay?).

Sean Foot

6)  Moira Foot:  Moira is a British actress who achieved some degree of notoriety in the 1970s and '80s in British television series such as Are You Being Served?, The Benny Hill Show, and 'Allo 'Allo! She thinks it's only fair to let you know that this is an older picture of her, and she doesn't look anything like that anymore – she says she now looks "much better!" Moira likes walking up to total strangers and yelling "Blimey!", waterskiing with her eyes closed (because it's less scary that way), and – in honor of her name – getting daily pedicures.

Moira Foot

7)  Andy Foot:  Andy is a fifth-generation commercial mixed arable and beef farmer, farming about 650 acres in Dorset in southwest England. He is chairman of both the NFU regional livestock board and beef group, and is also the local chairman of the Dorset Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty Partnership. Andy likes talking to his cows, long walks in the pasture, and playing croquet in his knickers (he hopes you would be open to that sort of thing, too).

Andy Foot

8)  Miss Bigfoot:  Miss Bigfoot hails from the Klamath River area near Orleans, California, where she has lived since the early 1960s. She is quite tall, very hairy, and – well, she has extremely large feet. But Miss Bigfoot hopes that her unconventional beauty – and the whole not-actually-being-a-human thing – won't deter you from giving her a call. She doesn't get out much – but when she does, Miss Bigfoot likes posing for cameras which only take blurry pictures, howling to the night sky for no apparent reason, and leaving muddy footprints in random places to confuse bored rednecks. This picture of Miss Bigfoot was taken back in 1967, but she looks pretty much the same now as she did then. She might be a little taller now, come to think of it.

Miss Bigfoot

Flash Fiction: "Dead Rabbit"

I know, I know. I've just finished my short-story collection, and now I'm supposed to be working on editing and formatting it so I can share it with the world. I'm not supposed to be writing new stories for my next collection. But I can't help it. When inspiration strikes, a writer strikes back. By writing. This tale's a bit morbid, but I think most of us can relate to the sentiments as well as the situation depicted within. I wrote another story at the same time I wrote this one, but that one's longer, so I'll save it for tomorrow. Or maybe the next day. Enjoy?

"DEAD RABBIT"

I remember it like it was yesterday. The day my dad told me that my pet rabbit had died.

"Boy," he said, "I got some bad news for you."

I said, "What's that?"

He said, "Skippy's gone."

I said, "What do you mean 'gone'? Did somebody leave the cage open last night?"

He shook his head and said, "Naw, son, Skippy's – well, he's in bunny heaven now."

I said, "Why'd you take him to the kennel for? We going on vacation or something?"

Dad said, "You don't understand, boy. Your rabbit – he's, ah, he's no longer with us."

I said, "I know that. You just told me you took him over to Bunny Heaven. What I don't know is why."

Dad shook his head again, like I just didn't get it – which I didn't. He said, "Boy, the rabbit is dead. He passed while you was sleeping last night."

I said, "Oh," real quiet-like. I always get quiet when I'm sad. I don't cry, I just get quiet.

Dad said, "You want me to bury him for you?"

I said, "Naw, I'll do it myself."

He said, "You sure about that, boy? Might be none too pleasant."

I said, "I'll be fine. Ain't the first time I buried anything."

He said, "What else you been burying, boy?"

I said, "Nothing special. Just birds and stuff I found lying around in the yard."

My dad said, "All right, then. Just holler at me if you change your mind, and I'll take care of it for you."

I told him again that I would be fine, and I went straight to the barn. Skippy's cage door was open when I got there. I reckon Dad figured there was no reason to close it now.

Skippy was lying on his side, his fuzzy belly up in the air, his whole body stiff. He could have been sleeping, peaceful as he looked – if you could ignore the rigor mortis thing, that is. And I most definitely could not.

I grabbed a potato sack that was sitting in the corner, brought it over to Skippy's cage, eased his stiff little body into it, and folded it over.

"You was a good rabbit, Skippy," I said, real quiet-like. "But I guess it was just your time to go."

I grabbed a shovel on my way out of the barn, the potato sack slung over my shoulder, and headed to the field to bury my little friend.

Unfortunately Named Law Firms

Keeping it simple again today. I had fun compiling these, and I hope you'll enjoy them too. And yes, they're all real as far as I know. I do realize that this has been done before by other bloggers, but I had the idea independently today. I may have copied one or two of these from other people's posts. So sue me!

"This looks like a job for...."

But if they're flat, how are you gonna collect their dough?

This is actually a husband-wife attorney team. Not surprisingly.

Who you gonna call? Well, Duh!

You've heard the spiel. "If you get injured through no fault of your own....". They finish it: "We've got the perfect guy for you!"

Bubba doesn't really do anything, but his dad donated a boatload of money so they would put his name on the sign.

Now offering a ten percent discount off the top if you can say his name four times fast!

The first guy shortened his name when he became a lawyer. Because Kestlerhestler just sounded stupid!

These guys tell you up-front what you can expect from them.

First they haggle over the price. Then if you won't settle, they hang you.

You pay less, but having to go out back to pee gets really old fast.

Make up your mind already!

She just doesn't look the same without the beard and the red suit.

It's a, it's a, it's a circus out there!

Don't take the law into your own hands. Pay us to do it!

Words I Wish I Wrote: Mother's Day Quotes

Keeping it simple today. Just because they're other people's words doesn't mean the sentiments aren't true. Feel free to share if you wish...


1)  "I remember my mother's prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life." ~ Abraham Lincoln


2)  "My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it.  ~  Mark Twain


3)  "All I am I owe to my mother. I attribute all my success in life to the moral, intellectual and physical education I received from her."  ~ George Washington


4)   "There was never a child so lovely but his mother was glad to get him to sleep."  ~  Ralph Waldo Emerson


5)  "Biology is the least of what makes someone a mother."  ~  Oprah Winfrey


6)  "My mother loved children - she would have given anything if I had been one."  ~ Groucho Marx


7)  "My mother had morning sickness after I was born."  ~  Rodney Dangerfield


8)  "Only God Himself fully appreciates the influence of a Christian mother in the molding of character in her children."  ~  Billy Graham


9)  "A mother's arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them."  ~  Victor Hugo


10)  "My mother's love has always been a sustaining force for our family, and one of my greatest joys is seeing her integrity, her compassion, her intelligence reflected in my daughters."  ~  Michelle Obama


11)  "Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not."  ~  James Joyce


12)  "When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child."  ~  Sophia Loren


13)  "The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness."  ~  Honore de Balzac


14)  "Happy is the son whose faith in his mother remains unchallenged."  ~  Louisa May Alcott


15)  "What a mother sings to the cradle goes all the way down to the coffin."  ~  Henry Ward Beecher


16)  "Yes, Mother. I can see you are flawed. You have not hidden it. That is your greatest gift to me."  ~  Alice Walker


17)  "You are a person of the greatest importance when you are a mother of a family. Just do your job right and your kids will love you."  ~  Ethel Waters


18)  "Every mother is like Moses. She does not enter the promised land. She prepares a world she will not see."  ~  Pope Paul VI


19)  "A man never sees all that his mother has been to him until it's too late to let her know that he sees it."  ~  William Dean Howells


20)  "All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his."  ~  Oscar Wilde

I Can Rhyme Whenever I Want To

If you've read much of my self-described "alpha poetry", you might wonder how I can even dare to call it "poetry" at all. Poetry is supposed to rhyme, right? No, not always. Most of the time, when I am inspired to write a poem, or when I sit down and make myself write something, I don't concern myself with rhyme, or even rhythm all that much. I just go with the flow that's in my head. But just to prove that I can rhyme whenever I want to, here are a few rhyming poems I've written recently. They're all unrelated to each other, and there's no unifying theme here. Anyway, here they are. Hope you enjoy reading them...




"STARSTRUCK"

Crowds of people scream your name
And you just stand there grinning
It seems that you've embraced the fame
You shunned in the beginning.
It's not that easy to say "no"
When everyone is staring
Hanging on your every word
And the flashing lights are glaring.
I thought you could withstand
Not let these foolish things distract you
From convictions you've held all your life
But now these things attract you.
I guess that I misread you
Or the public eye misled you
Or you hungered, and they fed you
Thought you'd stand, but then instead you
Slumped. And now there's just a dead you.



"HOW IT WENT"

Dying to find out how it went
SHE whispers in her ear:
"Tell me everything," SHE says
But she says, "No, not here."
"Why not?" SHE asks, "I'll never tell
Your secret's safe with me."
She says, "It's not that I don't
Trust you. It's not you, it's me."
SHE asks again, "Just tell me if
He kissed you, and I'll know
From that – at least a little –
How the rest of it will go."
"Alright, alright," she answers
"Yes, he kissed me. And that's all!"
SHE frowns and sighs, "I thought
He really liked you when he called."
"He did," she says, "he's really nice.
But that's as far as it goes."
SHE replies and rolls her eyes,
"Oh, I see! He's one of THOSE!
Well, at least now that you know
You can leave him in the dust!"
She shakes her head and says,
"We're going out again. You see, it's just
That there was something really different
In the way he spoke to me.
What he said, I think he meant it
He wasn't just a wanna-be.
But the strangest thing of all
Was what he did before we parted
When he walked me to the door
Bowed his head, and then he started
Thanking God for everything
He even thanked Him for meeting me!
And he prayed that God would help him
To maintain his purity."
SHE stops her in her tracks, yells,
"And you're SEEING him again?
What on earth is wrong with you?
Do you want THAT in a boyfriend?"
"Maybe so," she says, and smiles,
"Maybe that's just what I need
A man who likes me for myself
Not just to do some nasty deed!
Anyway, it got me thinking
What am I really living for?
If just for me, then it's not worth it
I was made for something more."
"Okay, now you've flipped your lid!"
SHE says, and starts to walk away.
"If you're okay with CRAZY
Then I've got nothing more to say."
She watches as her friend leaves
And she hopes SHE'll change HER mind.
She'll never give up hope
But, for now, this is goodbye.



"THE WAR WITHIN"

Of course I have
And so have you
We all fall short
That's what we do.
The difference is
I've turned my back
From all my foolish
Words and acts.
It doesn't mean
I won't slip up
Of course I will
I'm not that tough.
But I will stand
And I will fight
This war will end
But not tonight.


"BETTER WITH AGE?"

If you think I'm ugly now
You should have seen me years ago.
I look much better than I did
When I was just an awkward kid.
My hair was pouffy and fiery red
Atop an enormously large head.
My nose was fat (well, it still is
But my face caught up, and it finally fits).
"Skinny" doesn't begin to describe
My frame till I was, like, twenty-five.
My bum was big (well, it still is
But my belly caught up, and it finally fits.)
I'd like to think that through the years
I've finally grown into my ears.
So yeah, I'm still a frightful sight
But my wife thinks I look alright
And perhaps someday I actually might.