Tag Archives: Eric Robert Nolan

(Isle stop now.)

My Brain at 1:07 AM:  “Stop thinking up weird, random shit and go to sleep.  Stop thinking up weird, random shit and go to sleep.  Stop thinking up weird, random shit and go to sleep.”

Also My Brain:  “Say what you want about the other Greek islands, but dissin’ Crete is indiscreet.”



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C.P.P., how can I explain it?/ I’ll let you microwave it.

You down with C.P.P.?? YEAH, YOU KNOW ME!!
You down with C.P.P.?? YEAH, YOU KNOW ME!!

— Nolan By Nature



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Keep It Simple, Stupid.

This is the simplest sandwich I can fathom — one thick slice of cooked ham and one slice of Muenster cheese on white bread.  (Make sure the opposite slice of bread includes a generous helping of Duke’s Mayonnaise.)

The taste is positively sublime.  The meat and the cheese just go together like chocolate and peanut butter, I swear.

Anyway, at some point I want to see how I can become a spokesperson for Duke’s Mayonnaise, because that’s totally a cause that I can get behind.  I have no idea how — I’m not exactly an “influencer.”  I guess I’ve influenced people on Facebook to unfriend me?  And I had a guy tell me once that my poetry made him want to hug his knees and cry.  (“But it’s so good!” He qualified.)  I still kinda don’t think that’s the reaction that Duke’s is going for.



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WEEP FOR MY FALL THROUGH THE AIR.

I’m bookish, awkward, pot-bellied and an easy target for jokes. Now I apparently need prescription glasses? And I can’t understand why people in my age group want to run society like a bunch of savages.

All I need is a conch shell, and I’m Piggy from “Lord of the Flies.”



Throwback Thursday: this 1985 ad for Toaster Strudels!

Enjoy.

(And be sure to check out the Youtube channel for Chuck D’s All-New Classic TV Clubhouse, from which this came.)



Hasn’t he got enough problems lately?

My pal Tara posted this picture of an unimpressive carrot she found this morning.

I think we can all agree the association is inevitable.



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[squints awkwardly]

DON’T be offended if I don’t recognize you — it’s because I don’t have my glasses on.

I can’t see *%$#. You could Henry Goddam Kissinger for all I know.



South Jefferson Street tonight.

Roanoke, VA.

Northern Roanoke, VA, September 2023

Somewhere in or around Hollins. One of the things you see looking south is the Roanoke — Blacksburg Regional Airport.

Look for a surprise appearance by Mr. Turkey Vulture!



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Medice, cura te ipsum.

I’m really good at encouraging OTHERS to get organized and focused. Not always so good at getting organized and focused myself.

Got a whole little physician-heal-thyself thing goin’ on.