CAROLINA PRIDE, *****es!
They mocked me once for favoring specialty meats. NOW WHOSE HABITUAL VICE IS CONSISTENTLY STOCKED EVEN IS TIMES OF APOCALYPSE-INDUCED SUPERMARKET SHORTAGES?
TODAY, THE MEAT AISLE. TOMORROW, THE WORLD.
Tag Archives: Eric Robert Nolan
In the not-too-distant future — this country, A.D.
This meme is making the rounds on Facebook. (As always, I’ll cheerfully credit its creator if he or she steps forward.)
Joel and the Bots might just make these televised farces bearable.
Throwback Thursday: Milton Bradley’s Connect Four!
I loved this game. Just about the only drawback to it was that if two kids got reasonably proficient at Connect Four, they would somewhat consistently reach a draw every time they played.
If you glance at the comments section for the video (I’m linking here to panbiscuit’s Youtube channel), you can see that plenty of people still remember the “Pretty sneaky, Sis” line at the end.
Weird world — when I was a little kid in the late 1970’s, I totally had that kid’s haircut.
Hey — you can actually play an online version of Connect Four for free if you’ve got Adobe Flash.
Wash your hands.
Wash your hands.
Wash your hands.
Wash your hands.
Wash your hands.
Wash your hands.
Wash your hands.
Wash your hands.
Another Donald Trump Limerick …
The #Dimericks hashtag has died down a bit on Twitter, but I couldn’t resist just one more limerick at Donald Trump’s expense …
There once was a doltish aggressor
who lied at his pandemic presser.
He figured he’d use
his tried-and-true ruse
of blaming his black predecessor.
I TOLD you I have big hair.
Damn thing needs its own zip code.
Unless I get it cut once a month, I turn into Mr. Glass from “Unbreakable.”
Or maybe Beaker the muppet at disillusioned midlife.
Meep.
This kite stuck in a tree on a rainy day might be the best metaphor for 2020 ever.
Unless … maybe if the tree was also on fire.
And I’m not going that far for a good photo. I’ve got enough problems.
Throwback Thursday: this 1970’s Slinky commercial!
Slinkys are still sold today — but I’ll always remember it as a staple of the 1970’s, when I was a toddler. It was one of my favorite toys.
I remember occasionally needing help from an older sibling to get it to “walk” down the stairs, as it was intended to do. (Again, I was never the brightest bulb in the socket.) I also frequently got it so tangled up that it looked like one of those razored traps from the modern “Saw” films — and an adult had to fix that. But it was always fun while it lasted.
There’s a pretty cute story about the toy’s origin right here at The National Museum of Play.
“Contagion is a Despot Poet,” by Eric Robert Nolan
Contagion is a despot poet. It
releases fatal verses from its throne.
Its alabaster palm will lean to sow
what words will wind within their binding strictures
each arriving low, in permanent cursive,
at the many nadirs of pages — each
to immutable conclusion,
to shared, indelible metaphor:
dirges upon April mornings
eulogies at afternoon
rimes to loss at rayless night, as stars,
so slowly overflying a singing, dim landscape of endowed poetry,
are indistinct, indifferent.
(c) Eric Robert Nolan 2020
Photo credit: By Helgi Halldórsson from Reykjavík, Iceland – darkness, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=33782100
Snickety-Snick.
Here’s an idea. Since none of us are getting haircuts, we should have a contest to see who can grow the coolest Wolverine hair.
Frankly I thought I’d be much farther along — I have a long reputation for having “big hair.” Seriously. It’s just always been thick.
I figured I’d let you guys off the hook and not suggest a six-pack abs contest. I’d win that one too easily.
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 