Monday, August 21, 2017

Odds In Beer Are Coming Near!

That would be rather bad. Betting while drunk may make you mad. When you wake up hung over and broke. That's enough to make anyone choke. But you could win. Also choking on the dough at your bin.


Why even try?
Odds sure are high.
They'll so be here.
That is so clear.

Beer in a shower,
Hour by hour.
Whoops, fall and hit head.
Blog is now dead.

Camping in the woods.
Sure beats the hoods.
Eaten by a bear.
No more blogging at their lair.

Fat shaming at play.
Oh the dismay.
A fat person flattened each.
No blogging in reach.

Going for a third.
A new agent who's a turd.
Except they are a killer too.
No new blogs in view.

At a book retreat.
Both left in defeat.
Basic Instinct remake.
New posts at stake.

Entered a cave.
Thought it was a rave.
Damn, it's a bear.
Not the kind with hair.

Pissed off gun nuts,
That are in gun ruts.
That never ends good.
These odds aren't understood.

An idiot takes offense.
They are far too dense.
So they really take a fence.
Odds go up a few cents.

The football heads stage a comeback.
They want to cause flack.
Each can't decide which to show.
Boy, these odds just may be low.

Odds = Go Get A Beer
You Have Something To Fear 

Ever get chased by a bear? Is camping a fun thing to do at your lair? Beer in the shower may not be a good idea if drunk as a skunk. Then you may go kerplunk. Odds sure did a flip flop from the start. Maybe there is some kind of plot. Watch those gun nuts when it comes to sass. They may gather in mass and pass more than gas. They'll never catch my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Odds Of Five Take A Dive!

Numbers sure show and can sure grow. Sometimes that is good, like money in your hood. Sometimes that is bad, like bills at your pad. A flip flop of cash. But we aren't delving into that bash.


Betsy is here.
A post shall be near.
But odds say maybe not.
Hmm what's with that plot?

Her tongue went numb.
Ate a Raid sprayed plum.
Now that was silly.
Then all went chilly.

Her insides went numb too.
What was she to do?
Raid it away.
Whoops, no post today.

Her computer caught fleas.
They swung from the trees.
In with the breeze.
Warm computer, yes please.

The cats ate her cord.
They were just bored.
Needed a cordly snack.
Attacked by the pack.

Her five men became six.
That put in quite the nix.
Blog title doesn't work anymore.
How? Beats me at my shore.

She's good at surviving,
Taking pics while driving.
But whoops, caught by a cop.
A jail house rock bid making blogging a flop.

Crazy auction attack.
News at 11 won't lack.
Barbie man wanted what she did.
But she won the bid.

I didn't end well.
That the odds tell.
Oh, it's crazy neighbor guy.
He continues to spy.

His tightey whities catch fire.
The flames go higher.
Her house catches on fire.
Odds sure now expire.

Odds = Quite Numb
And Really Then Some

Ever have a crazy auction attack? Maybe fleas by the pack? Those things are annoying as can be. Blood suckers can stay off me. How do five men become six? Hmm magic tricks? We won't even go there. Maybe she has hidden away a spare. Whoops, that just came to pass. I could not help my odd little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Saturday, August 19, 2017

The Kitchen Odds With Pea Pods!

The cat will chow down on anything at all. Including tacks at our hall. Hey, it was there to chew. Cassie tried one too. Pat made me spit it out though. Now I just eat things that make me go.


Glory Dear is back.
In cooking she doesn't lack.
She takes pics of stuff too.
Cooks up a storm at her zoo.

Odds are swell.
Hear that bell?
A new order is up.
Can go fill your cup.

Can fill your plate too.
That is easy to do.
Something for all.
Shines on her wall.

Dairy is still scary.
But I can eat a berry.
No mutt will get ahead of me.
The cat shall eat with glee.

Oh no, a hairball.
I splattered it on the wall.
I took a pic of it.
Scared more than a bit.

Odds down thanks to me?
How can that be?
It was just a hairball,
Right here on my wall.

She's poisoning all?
How dare her at her hall.
Those recipes are fake?
No one can even partake?

That is just rude.
Tried to poison this dude.
Her odds sink.
Sink in a blink.

Her camera broke?
Can't show but can choke.
That was the cause of it.
She went crazy with a no pic fit.

Odds are really sinking.
Cooking and thinking.
Can odds cook?
It's poison, don't look!

Odds = Cooked
A Post Shall Be Booked

Did you know Gloria was trying to poison us all? Good thing the cat can have a hairball. But she is every so sly and won't get caught. So I'm sure a new post will be added to her plot. Is dairy scary to you? Not really scary to us but blah at our zoo. Get an enemy to be a food tester with that Glory Dear lass. She'll never get my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Friday, August 18, 2017

Odds At Play In Some Dream Bay!

Dreams are grand. Go for them in your land. Except maybe the weird ones. They can be scary by the tons. Some may come true, some may need a new view. But have to keep on a going. Enjoy the nightly dream showing.


Odds are out.
Or maybe they're in.
What's that about?
Let's take them for a spin.

They go low.
She walks a nature trail.
Fast or slow,
That could fail.

Eaten by a bear.
Ouch, and then some.
Catch a psycho's stare.
Who needs that chum?

Then there's the beach.
There she goes.
A giant litter box in reach,
More than sand on the toes.

Catch something germy.
Or get lost in the ocean.
Either makes one squirmy,
Causing quite the commotion.

Lost at sea.
Could be grand.
An island for thee.
Treasure at hand.

Saved and rich.
Can blog all day.
Well worth the twitch.
Odds go the other way.

Whoops, all a dream.
That has to suck.
Wait, still in the stream?
What the umm fluck?

Lost in a dream.
Lost in a mind.
Quite the lost team.
No blogging of any kind.

Wow, odds sunk.
There they go.
On that treasure they clunk.
That was a dream? Oh!

Odds = Keep Dreaming
I Guess They Aren't Beaming

Can you get stuck in a dream? Would they call that some kind of coma stream? Hey, at least there you can be rich with treasure. That has to give one some pleasure. Maybe dream up a post. It could happen at one's coast. Beats get eaten by a bear though. That much I do know. I'll feed the bear the singing bass. He can choke on that instead of my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer. 

Thursday, August 17, 2017

Odds Of Creation Get A Notation!

Isn't it fun to create? Can be anything that takes the bait. From words to cards to weird plants in yards. All can sure be done. Go for it as long as you find it fun. Don't go for it you are a mime. Fake things is just a crime.


Odds are slim.
Slim and prim.
Prim and proper?
Bah, call a grammar copper.

See? Created?
Is it dated?
That it may be.
Like cards to see.

Christmas ones.
She's got tons.
Birthday ones.
Even for nuns.

Up and up.
Fills her cup.
There is no stopping,
The card cropping.

Made and waiting.
Even after dating.
A new post to show.
Odds sure aren't low.

Movies of old.
There to take hold.
Movies of new.
There are a few.

High are the odds.
Dangling on fishing rods.
Not sinking in the lake.
No need for a double take.

Wait! A paper cut,
There at her hut.
Her finger can't linger.
She may lose the finger.

Ah, now it's the hand.
Odds sure aren't grand.
Wow, the arm too?
What a paper cut can do.

Hey diddle diddle.
Odds are a riddle.
Maybe stuck in the middle.
With no fingers to twiddle.

Odds = Flip Card Open To See
Two Flipping Arms Will Make Them Higher For Thee

Wow, she may need a card after that paper cut. A get well one would do at her hut. Must have been some bacteria filled paper. Maybe it was really an attempted murder caper? The paper cut serial killer. Could be the next thriller. Do you create at your sea? I'm sure some things come to be. Thankfully most paper cuts just get sass from my ever so sassy little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

An Odd List That Can't Be Missed!

Lists help here and there and they can be used everywhere. Some write them down each day. Pfffft to that I say. I'll keep them in my head. Saves time and doesn't cause trees dread.


Ten Odds For And Against Blabber. Like A Mime May Stab Her!

1. A deadly disease is caught in her mind. Fake diseases really put her in a bind.
So she runs far far away thinking blogger gave her a disease today.
 I hear they make pills for that. You can trust the cat.

2. A bird pecks her eyes out and she gives a hideous shout.
The shouting scares more birds and they eat her turning her to turds.
That would lower her odds of a new post display by the way.

3. She gets a job that requires more hours in some big NY towers.
Then she worries about the building fall over or tramping in the poop of rover.
Back to the birds she'd go and the crap thing, you know.

4. She goes on vacation and the plane goes boom. Oh the doom.
Fear of flying isn't bad. Saves money at ones pad.
Boom = lower odds as well as one rings their last bell.

5. A list pisses off some stalker fan. They throw her in the back of a van.
Wait, isn't her van still in another place? Oh that was another person's parking space.
Where are the higher odds? Not many to give nods.

6. She takes a "break" again there at her den.
May need to seek out the definition of break should she do a double take.
Probably thinks a robbery is about to occur. That won't make her purr.

7. She starts a new blog then goes back to the old time log.
But take her time in between before skipping back to her old scene.
The cat can recall. Odds are I remember all.

8. She hits it big. Runs away and dances a jig.
The odds go way down as she's from short town.
Yeah, she hit a big fat guy. Splat she goes on the first try.

9. She comes up short and files a short report.
Ideas are in short supply. On short notice away she did fly.
Notice my short retort? Sure didn't come up short.

10. She gets lost an in outhouse museum because to her it's like a coliseum. 
Hopefully not lost down a hole. That would be a nasty goal.
Odds are arriving in and it sure isn't a win.

Odds = Panic Attack
Still Stuck On The Disease Way Back

Ever have a fake disease? Did birds come after you like the breeze? Can a breeze come after you? Are you a blog "break" person at your zoo? Like break for a year. Does an outhouse museum cause you fear? Isn't that a great list? Sure one not to be missed. Now I'll watch the panic attack of that LMF...Jax...excuse me...Jaclyn lass. It is so amusing to my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Oddly Blue Shining Through!

The odds are blue today. I guess they change color at my bay. Beats red I suppose. He'd cut off your rump and your toes. That pointy stick is mean. Odds are I will now get on with it at my scene.


The odds are blue.
The odds are red.
Both are true,
As he snores in bed.

Whoops, on the couch.
That's just mean.
Must make him a grouch.
Snoring loud enough to rupture a spleen.

Odds go down low,
With a blown up spleen.
But that you know.
Basic anatomy at one's scene. 

Then there are humpers.
They may get payback.
Those crazy wall bumpers,
Like a rocking shack.

Blue fixed their wailing.
They want to keep rockin.
So the wall may be failing,
And they may get Blue if he goes a knockin.

Skinny jeans nuts,
May come a showing.
With their tight butts,
After his showing.

Skinny jean killers.
They hate his hate.
So forget the fillers,
The give him a skinny jean fate.

Bora Bora could come to be.
He may travel across the sea.
Tramp in the waste left by me,
And never come back to see.

School may be in.
Over worked and under paid.
That sure isn't a win,
So blogging may fade.

Whoops, there is a remake.
It's Jaws the reboot.
A post he'll have to bake,
As another movie goes in the trash chute.

Odds = Highly Blue
Remakes, Reboots and Redos In View

Blue shall still be around, unless killer snoring is found. Then he may go to jail for snoring spleen blasting. The movie is already casting. Been to Bora Bora at your sea? Have you tramped in cat pee? Ready for Jaws the remake? Wouldn't doubt it will get a triple take. Are you a skinny jean nut stuck in a skinny jean rut? The cat will now go roll in the green grass, adding another color today to my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Monday, August 14, 2017

WEP Times Two...Or Three At My Sea!

The cat is breaking the odds today. I guess I have too much to say. Odds are that will always come due as humans rarely ever get a clue. Plenty of ammo is at hand. Right. On with it at my land.

First we have a new release. Pat once again made the rhyming cease. How rude is that? But why are we showing it today at our mat? Because it was started by April's WEP post. And off it went at our coast. But I'll fix Pat. Hold on, we'll get to that.



Martin and Emma had survived much in life to get the family that they always wanted. But when a snowstorm delivers a young, abused boy into their life they realize further the gift bestowed upon them and begin the fight to give the same chance to him. Soon they discover a secret lurking in Hunts Bay that goes further than abuse and puts their entire family at risk.

Determined to keep the boy from harm, they now must unravel the secrets of his past before his past destroys their family. As threats close in, the pair quickly find themselves doing acts they would never have fathomed to keep him safe, their kids safe and escape the growing threat with their lives.



----------------------------------------

And now on with another show. Or should I say flow? Yeah, the cat is going to play too. Rhyming has to come due. Is doubling up cheating? Bah, we'll Yolanda and Denise deal with that at their next meeting.



Gods And Mods

Cassie and I were fast asleep. It is a way of life at our keep. That didn't last long though, mainly due to a familiar foe. I guess frienemy would be a better fit. Either way, once again we had to deal with his shit.

"Drazin wanted to go home, not end up with you fleabags."

"Thy demon better watch his trap." Pat threatened him with a spoon. Yeah, he was once again a loon.

"What do you want this time, godly mook?" Cassie yawned and tried to ignore. She found dealing with that bald headed buffoon a chore.

"Drazin didn't want this. Drazin wants to...Just great." Drazin rolled his eyes as we heard more cries.

The room then started to spin and it was time for another battle that we had to win.

"Bryan, what do you call an alphabet with no R?"

"Messed up?"

"Nope. Alphawrong."

"Is it just Drazin or were those two better when they had football heads?" Drazin curled his nose up at the beer guys while bloggers surrounded us like flies.

Did I mention a giant R floated above us too? R really needs to get a clue.

"Great meeting. Great post. Great reunion. Great post. Great death. Great post." R repeated that a lot as he floated in one spot.

Then all around us past foes started to appear. Zombie Betsy even cackled in my ear. The humans all strayed away from Silver Fox though. They remembered his snip snip the human show.

"Thy demon has really done it this time." Pat threw his spoon at R. That didn't get us very far.

"Don't look at Drazin. Drazin had nothing to do with this crap."

"It was me. Now give me my shoe while I wipe the land of repeats!" Blue Guy appeared above us all. I think someone stretched him and made him rather tall.

"So he tries to stop repeats by making everything come back and repeat themselves. Pffft what an idiot." Cassie swatted The Gawker away. Him and that eyeball sticking out of the top of his head was still a scary display.

"Damn it. My mod failed. Stupid Amazon seller sent me the wrong package." Blue Guy jumped up and down. He was like a child throwing a tantrum in crazy town.

"And there are those crazy nuts." Drazin eyed Truedessa and Blabber as they appeared. Actually, I think his red glowing eyes more like peered.

"I didn't get my shampoo!"

"Look at that sky." Truedessa twirled around, making an aww kinda sound.

"I think she got too much air on that mountain. Or maybe drank from a funky fountain." I couldn't help that one. It just slipped out before I began to run.

"All right, fleabags. Drazin is going to end this crap before Drazin gets stuck with that whiny one-eyed creep and that Irish nut again. Let's go."

"Thy demon is right. Let's take out the germ ridden blue man."

"I want my shoe, damn it." Blue Guy waved his arm and all wanted to cause us harm.

"Godly mook, handle them, we've got the shoe nut." Cassie nodded to me and off we did flee.

"What about your crazy human?"

"Use him as bait. At that he's first rate." I got a glare from Pat. He may have not liked that.

Blue Guy tried to run away while Drazin fought off any who got in his way. He used Pat as a shield a time or two. He may have even swung him around like a stick, too.

"Back, cats. Back I say!"

"Does he think we're dogs?" Cassie rolled her eyes at him while I slunk behind his shoe-less limb.

"See ya later, Blue. At least I didn't poo." I snickered as Blue Guy slipped on my puddle of pee and Cassie batted his machine free.

"See? I need my shoe. This is so eww for Blue."

"My turn." Pat grabbed a beer bottle from one of the beer guys and smashed it after three tries. He shoved the glass into Blue's machine and poof went the entire scene.

"Damn you, Amazon sellers," Blue Guy muttered while he backed away. He really wasn't having a very good day.

Drazin picked up his sparking machine while Blue Guy continued to make a scene. He then tossed it at Blue Guy and after a little hippy shake, Blue Guy vaporized like kids do to cake.

"Until next time Drazin has to deal with you and your crazy human, fleabags." Drazin went back to Plumtoad and we all soon returned to every day mode.

That means Pat went to cleaning our shit and we rested for more than a bit. I may have even relieved myself in Blue Guy's shoe. But he's not supposed to know I have it, so that's between me and you.

Word Count: 807

There we go. All done with today's flow. Wasn't that rather long? Bah, shorter than a trip to Hong Kong. Lots to take in today. There is even another story at Pat's other blogging bay. So I guess that would make three. Beats little old me. Odds are we'll be back to odds soon, so don't expect long arse posts from this loon. But so many questions still come due. Did Blue go to another planet at his zoo? Did Zombie Betsy really die once more? Did Truedessa get too much mountain air at her shore? Did the beer guys go lame? Does an R really want to maim? I even got a long question mass. Okay, after all that work, off I go to nap my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Odds Are Benched But Not Monkey Wrenched!

Why would a monkey have a wrench? Would it play with it on a bench? Would you call that monkeying around? Would it be dogging around if it were a wrench carrying hound? I guess you'll need to see that view from a bench at your zoo.


Betty's on the bench.
Not a stinky trench.
Unless a bench is by a trench.
Then she may be on that bench.

Wow, could get washed away.
Straight into a stinky bay.
That takes the odds down.
Who knew benches could make one drown?

She finds a new bench.
Here comes a psycho with a wrench.
She stole his bench spot.
Wowweee, odds go down a lot.

The bench may break.
Toppled over in a lake.
Maybe rolled down a hill.
Benches really can kill.

Then it could be worse.
What's worse than a psycho curse?
Could get a splinter in your ass.
Benches can have those in mass.

Of course you'd have to have no clothes.
Or sucky fabric that falls off when the wind blows.
Hmm, odds are low on that.
So that ups the odds from the cat.

But she's a peeper.
Not in the way of a creeper.
At least the cat hopes not.
That would drop the odds a lot.

Instead they drop a bit.
She thinks the neighbors are a hit.
Peeping as they come and go.
They may not like that though.

Psycho neighbors take revenge.
News at 11 from Stonehenge.
Or would that be from Arizona?
Heck, it's not from Daytona.

Neighbors have rallied.
The odds are tallied.
Can see them from a bench.
They are even translated to French.

Odds = Highly Benched
But No Splinters Leaving Butts Clenched

Ever get a splinter in your ass? Now how did that come to pass? The cat may not want to know. Any good benches at your show? Betty will be around still I bet. I'm usually a right pet. Posts may get benched though if her neighbors catch on to her peeping show. Hey, the cat won't tell and raise any hell. I can't say the same for that singing bass. He is more of a blabber mouth than my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

Odds Are Rosey So Be Nosey!

Can something be rosey when it is not a rose? Or you know, named Rosey by friends or foes. Humans just have a weird way of describing things I guess. Anyway, will the odds be more or less?


These odds are easy.
May even smell cheesy.
She could have such a contest.
Isn't cheese the best?

Nah, we think not.
A mousey type plot.
That cat isn't a mouse.
Kick them from our house.

But Rosey contests all.
Meaning contests have a ball.
May even give you a ball.
Hell, she runs them all.

Except maybe R rated.
Family friendly is only slated.
That saves her from the creepy crew.
Odds go up at her zoo.

But those mommy bloggers may not win.
Now that is a real sin.
They may hold it against her.
Death threats may spur.

Hey, mommy bloggers can be mean.
Watch out when they lose at her scene.
Death by psycho mommy blogger.
Be a better ending than becoming a logger.

Get the reference there?
Odds are down at her lair.
Plus she travels and does reviews.
Now that could make the news.

Give a bad review.
Uh oh, psycho comes due.
The owner is at her door.
Bad reviews no more.

She went to the beach.
Giant litter box in reach.
Oops, there was a mark.
She got eaten by a shark.

Odds aren't looking good.
She may never post again in her hood.
Sharks and psychos galore.
Maybe a casket contest should be run at her shore?

Odds = 666
Too Many Crazies In The Mix

What was that? The odds were rigged by the cat? Rosey hates 666 coming due? Whoops, I was caught by you. Ever have a review nut come after you? Get eaten by a shark at your zoo? Piss off a mommy blogger yet? Got in your bet? So many questions have come to pass. I'm sure Rosey will still be around to curse my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Friday, August 11, 2017

Wanna Buy Odds From Cods?

What? Odds doesn't rhyme with ducks and it felt like cheating using hockey pucks. Aren't the ducks all sold out? Yep, that's why I switched to trout. Cods, trout, same thing. All fish swimming in a fish poo filled spring.


Wanna Buy A Duck?
Well you are crap outta luck.
That blog went poof.
No posts in over a year is proof.

So zero odds on that.
Sorry, but those odds are flat.
Moving on to Belva Block.
No ducks, what a shock.

Got chickens though.
They sure can grow.
They may peck her eyes out.
Odds are lower with them about.

That was such a Blabber thing to say.
I feel ashamed at my bay.
Not really though.
But I'm sure that you know.

Knows how to heal.
Doesn't reinvent the wheel.
But that could backfire.
She may not replace an old tire.

Pop it could go.
Then you never know.
Driving into a ditch,
Would sure be a bitch.

Odds are I spun that silly.
But it's all willy nilly.
You should know that too.
Taking odds on it at my zoo.

She came back twice.
Isn't that nice?
Ducks and Blocks.
New digs, same docks.

Daily rhyme every day for...forever.
The cat is too lazy to count the comment endeavor.
But she's been here a very long time.
Always ready to drop a dime.

Odds of a new post?
Hmmm, 2 months as of now at her coast.
Those odds are pretty slim.
Especially with killer chickens making things grim.

Odds = Falling, Falling
The Deadly Eyeball Eating Chickens Are Calling

Did you know chickens were that scary? No wonder they aren't hairy. They get blood in their fur. That wouldn't make anyone purr. Considering she'll make triple digits at her sea, I'm sure she'll still be around and rhyming free. But watch those chickens and their peck. Ducks may come after her for ditching their selling trek. Birds sure are up in arms against that lass. She better hide under the bed like my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Thursday, August 10, 2017

A Number One Is Oddly Spun!

Who will get number one today? Will Hank get it for his display? Maybe Betty will have insomnia and go for the win. Is insomnia ever a win at any bin? Blue may know as he gives copy and paste a go.


Odds of number one.
They must be done.
The rest is easy to guess.
More or less.

No odds on that.
Not need to be a broke cat.
So those bets are out.
Taking bets on #1 about.

Will Hank sneak in,
With a 7 am spin?
Will Blue copy and paste,
Getting in post haste?

Will Betsy get up early?
Nah, that would make her squirrely.
So odds go up there.
Saying What Off will make her glare.

Will blogger crash?
Back in a flash.
Will I even post?
Hmm, guess so at my coast.

Odds are in.
Hank may win.
Wait, there's a toad.
It's in the road.

Hank had to stop.
Could be a flop.
One the road with a toad.
Can't go #1 mode.

But there's the phone.
Can enter at the tone.
A win times two.
#1...#1..came due.

Nah, no double the wager.
Blame the pager.
Do they even use those anymore?
Odds are they don't at many a shore.

Hank's internet may die.
Oh me, oh my.
The odds are creeping down.
Who will have the #1 crown?

Odds = Topped Up
Likely To Fill Your Cup

Are your bets in? Who will get the win? Hmm, you probably already know as this is read as a comment has been put to bed. Was number one you? Ever get stuck on the road thanks to a toad at your zoo? Maybe the toad couldn't hop because it had bad gas? Just a thought from my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

A Halloween Nut In An Odd Rut!

That title could be taken all wrong. But so can Donkey Kong. No butt crack or things to mate. Candy Kong must not find him much of a date. Wow, went off there. Back to the odds at my lair.


Halloween Nazi is here.
Odds are something to fear.
Since the cat outed her,
She's scared people right out of their fur.

Hey, some people are furry.
So hairy they make eyes blurry.
She scared them out of that.
Maybe they'll thank her where she's at.

But not everyone else out there.
They now know to beware.
The Halloween Nazi will scare.
She may pull out their hair.

She has spells.
Much like wishing wells.
Hey, let's pretend they work.
To her ego it's a perk.

The town wants her on a stake.
Don't worry, the fire is fake.
But that could still be had.
Odds are lower at her pad.

She has mutts too.
She may slip in poo.
Landmines galore.
Odds are now something of lore.

Was that a dirty look to the cat?
Did you just see that she did that?
Odds go lower just for the look.
Yeah, I control the odds at my nook.

Or at least I pretend.
Them I won't amend.
So get your bets in.
Is she still giving posts a spin?

Oh, and don't forget the honey.
She thinks it is sunny.
She may cause bees to attack.
They may attack by the pack.

Offed by psycho bees.
Worse than fleas on knees?
Both are pretty pad.
The odds are in for her pad.

Odds = Highly Low
Better Than Lowly Low You Know

Don't fear her voodoo. You can make it through. Are you Halloween crazy too? A few months and it shall come due. Ever get attacked by killer bees? I may be wrong on her blog freeze. I think I am wrong on a lot. But the odds are come up with by some statistics robot. The cat can't help how they amass. Now get your bets in to my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Odd We Go With A Little Snow!

I know, such a yucky word. Well unless you are Betsy and a bit absurd. Piles of snow is sure not for me. But that you knew at my sea. Now on with it. The odds have to be lit.


This looks grim.
Better go out on a limb.
Place your bets.
Don't put up assets.

For she's on a bike.
Or maybe out for a hike.
Both near the woods.
Got her goods.

As in camera and bike.
No gutter to strike.
Oh, there's a thief.
Photos gone, good grief.

Wait, the thief was high.
A very stupid guy.
Colorado living at its best.
He was nothing but a pest.

But look and stare.
She's not aware.
It's a big grizzly bear.
Take a pic if you dare.

She sure dared.
The grizzly bear cared.
Cared a tad too much.
He reached out to touch.

Out hiking away.
Found a mountain display.
Whoops, found a crazy mountain hermit too.
Odds go lower just from his view.

Taking pics near and far.
Maybe catch the license plate of car.
It's an America's Most Wanted guy.
Down the odds sure fly.

But wait, there is hope.
No need to mope.
Rocks and yarn abound.
They litter the ground.

Patterns will still show.
Odds aren't as low.
May still be wise to bet a little.
Like only the cost of a skittle.

Odds = That Of Snow In Summer.
Damn, That Is Just A Bummer.

What was that? She's still where she is at? Was the cat wrong? Were the odds not as long? Hey, a crazy mountain hermit makes odds go way down. I can't help she may have them in her town. Ever face a grizzly bear? I hope you didn't stop and stare. That is not a wise move to let come to pass. On that you can trust my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Monday, August 7, 2017

A Vanishing Act Kinda Pact!

The ninja wannabe is here. Is that not clear? The wannabe part gives him away. For he is seen at many a bay on many a day. What more can I say? It turns out a lot. But that is a lesson you need not be taught.


A ninja attack.
It may kinda lack.
Can see him coming.
May even start humming.

Hey, he can sing.
So a weird ninja ring?
Mini Alex isn't so great.
That's why he became a litter box mate.

He hurt the cat's ears.
But he shed no tears.
At least he could never wet the bed.
Then he popped off his head.

What were the odds?
Care for some fishing rods?
I'm beating around the bush?
Maybe the bush with the tush?

That I may be.
Easy for me.
Told you I can talk.
At least I don't squawk.

Why you may ask?
Odds are an easy task.
Still movies that are showing?
Yep, even if in remakes are blowing.

Still music at play?
Yep, any old day.
IWSG still running?
Wasn't my last week's post stunning?

Are TV shows still on?
Yep, from dusk to dawn.
And dawn to dusk.
May even see an elephant tusk.

The Gawker likes animal mating.
His discovery channel gets no hating.
So that tells you it there.
Plenty of TV to spare.

So with all of that,
Plenty at his blog mat.
Only odds you have to find,
Is that of the vacation kind.

Odds = 99.99%
Unless On Vacation He Went

Well he could decide to go full ninja too and just disappear from view. But the mini one would give him away. He probably still stinks from his litter foray. Seen the ninja wannabe around? Do you think animal mating shows astound? Maybe you and The Gawker can have a thrill. Discovery channel fits the bill. I even got an agreement from the singing bass. This one has near perfect odds according to my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Sunday, August 6, 2017

A Rawkn Time With This Chime!

The cat would like to write this post, but I'm out on a date at my coast. Whoops, that isn't me. Damn, I shouldn't try and channel Robyn's sea. That is creepy. One may also get sleepy.


The odds are in.
They are slim.
Whoops, there goes the sin.
I guess they aren't so dim.

Robyn likes large.
Slim won't work.
Neither will quick discharge.
Large and long is a perk.

Wow, went there.
Odds are I would.
We've got verses to spare.
Were those odds understood?

That could be the why.
Why no new posts fly.
She's off under the sky,
With some new guy.

But that works both ways.
Are you lost in a daze?
I'll get you out of this maze
Don't want to light up and cause a haze.

Odds are she'd write it.
Give all the George flow.
Especially if one's a twit.
So odds may not be low.

But she may go into hiding.
Those erotic readings abound.
Could have the crowd dividing.
Peepers may surround.

Odds fall once more.
Sure not a perfect ten.
Especially if she gives an encore.
Damn, dirty men.

Then there is the chocolate trying.
So much of that at her shore.
Every type you can be spying.
She even gives the score.

But chocolate gum may come.
That would cause her to choke.
Get stuck and all goes numb.
Odds then go up in smoke.

Odds = Moderately Low
Peepers and Bad Chocolate May Show

Hmmm, the cat thinks she will still be posting and the dating nuts shall get a roasting. Always a dating tale to tell. Most not so swell. Wouldn't choking on chocolate gum be a bad way to go? My, her odds are rather low. Slim just won't cut it at her sea. Neither will snip snipped like me. She better avoid choking and the crazy nuts in mass. If so, odds are she'll still be seen by my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Saturday, August 5, 2017

A Neko Day With Odds At Play!

The cats knows the odds exactly today. I have to go all fact at my bay. The facts are in. So we better give it a spin. Fact is I must. In facts I trust.



Just the odds?
No time for gods.
Like Zeus was a king.
That is a fact ring.

Like Zeus wasn't real.
Quite the ordeal.
There is a fear of fun.
Cherophobia must be undone.

Just the odds?
Don't send odd squads.
I'm giving them to you.
Hold your goats at your zoo.

Speaking of which,
This may make you twitch.
Bill goats pee on their own heads.
Brings females to their beds.

Don't hiss and spit.
But if you must do it,
Aim for a pool.
You'll fill two in your lifetime with all your drool.

Good thing it's not Monday.
Cherophobia nuts get joined at play.
Or would that be none play?
Either way, more heart attacks on that day.

What was that?
The odds from the cat?
You'll get that fact.
Wait for the final act.

Robert Zimmerman can carry a tune.
Don't know him at your sand dune?
Right Bob Dylan is his fake name.
A bit more tame.

I may be a low percent.
May not even make a dent.
But penguin urine make up glaciers too.
I bet that you never knew.

And here is a tale.
A small child can join a whale.
A blue one that is.
And swim through its veins like nobody's biz.

Odds = Highly Sure
Unless He Gets A Jeopardy Brochure.

There will always be facts out there. Could do a billion posts at his lair. So the cat thinks he'll still be around. No dangerous things like killer clowns or disco abound. Maybe he'll get rich on Jeopardy though. So the odds aren't a sure thing thanks to that show. Know all those facts that came to pass? I'm just a fact finding little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Friday, August 4, 2017

A Musing For Your Perusing!

The burbs are scary. Things can get hairy. Just ask Tom Hanks. You may need tanks. Hey, if Gremlins come you just may. So don't go rolling your eyes at your bay.


A little musing,
For your perusing.
That I've said.
Let's put it to bed.

A little musing,
For your perusing.
Damn, the burbs are in my head.
Stuck there and bring dread.

Bijoux lives there.
Must be a tough lair.
All those houses looking the same.
Odds are not all is tame.

Odds are she may get bored,.
Odds are she may stick up a billboard.
Look, my house is different from yours.
Odds are it may start wars.

The neighborhood watch,
Will treat her like a sasquatch.
They can't allow change.
That in the burbs is strange.

Keep change inside.
Mayberry needs it's pride.
No changing of the tide.
Or in comes the death ride.

A dog may crap in her yard.
To them it isn't hard.
She may slip and fall.
Whoops, damn it all.

Her odds are sure sinking.
The neighborhood is linking.
Linking up against her change.
No way can she rearrange.

Oh, and she takes trips too.
Odds have went down the loo.
The neighbors will get rid of the change when's she's gone.
They'll "accidentally" set fire to her lawn.

No more computer at her sea.
This is one weird odd spree.
The burbs is such a scary place.
Everyone wears a smiley face.

Odds = Rather Low
Should She Become The Neighborhood Foe

Do you live in the burbs too? Is it as scary as her zoo? Did I embellish a bit? Hey, at least there is no hillbillies with it. That would be twice as bad. Think she'll survive at her Bytes from the Burbs pad? Odds aren't in her favor if change comes to pass. Or I may just be a crazy little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Thursday, August 3, 2017

Odds On The Redneck Come On Deck!

Hmmm, this one may be tough. Figuring out such odds could be rough. Maybe Vegas can help me out. They know what odds may be about.


The redneck is on deck.
May have to crane your neck.
Yeah, the odds are that low.
I'm sure there is no death though.

Whoops, I was wrong.
Look at her play along.
She's poking fun at super glued sex nuts.
They may get her after out of their glued ruts.

Along come more.
Enemies galore.
They are everywhere.
Odds are they'll only give an evil glare.

But what is this?
She has Facebook page bliss?
The blog is going down?
Uh oh, odds dip in her town.

Wait, she got in the liquor.
The words come quicker.
She needs another outlet.
Blogging is a safe bet.

Hmm, filled her cup.
That makes the odds go up.
Maybe just a little.
The liquor could just produce spittle.

She needs home repairs.
Like some new stairs.
Haven't we been there before?
Is this some rebooted encore?

She stated she'd never be back.
Whoops, lied at her shack.
That makes odds of a new post high.
But will one in August 2017 fly?

I don't know.
She may get sucked into a pimple popping show.
Or have much laundry to do.
Maybe dance disco like without a clue.

So the odds are in.
She may give one a spin.
But you got a 50/50 chance.
All hinges on that disco dance. 

Odds = In Between
Facebook may be her new disco scene.

What was your bet? What? You didn't bet yet? That is just rude. Is the redneck still around giving attitude? The cat shall see if it is true when this post comes due. She could have got sucked into some laundry craze or lost in a Facebook maze. The odds sure pile high against her in mass. Of course she could come back just to curse my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Hit The Trails Of Fails!


What if abounds.
Hit those grounds.
But stuck to one,
With what if spun.

Spun on in.
For the win.
A win that's a lose?
Not even a coin toss.

What if sinks.
Get some winks.
Some missing links.
Humans thinks.

Would that be thunk?
Go ask a skunk.
They don't rhyme.
They may not smell sublime.

Back on task.
What if I ask?
What if I don't?
What if goes won't.

Won't is it.
No what or if bit.
Just a clear won't.
Do you don't.

So don't you do.
Headache for you?
Haven't caught on?
It will sure dawn.

A what if.
There's your tiff.
What if is a fail,
Before you even hit the trail.

Better to do.
Ditch the what if crew.
Do and fail.
Make a new trail.

Failure teaches.
What if beaches.
As it leaves you stuck.
So on what if, back up the truck.

But wait there is more. IWSG is going to compete, not really, with Rosey's giveaway shore.
 Click here for a peer!

Don't need any of that. Yes, one may fall flat. One may fall flat 50 times over and over. May fail worse than a butt sniffing rover. But if you never do, nothing new can shine on through. So damn the what if. Forget that stupid tiff. Do and learn and then return. What if can choke on the gas of my little rhyming ass.
Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Odds To The Dogs And Brown Logs!

The cat sees mutts every day, at least for now at our bay. One we like, the other can take a hike. Or just get a smack upside the head. Don't go sticking your nose in the cat's bed. Just saying. Now on with the odd playing.


Scary they are.
Like hit by a car.
Dogs have to walk.
Maybe they'll squawk.

Or just yap,
At some passerby chap.
She won't see the car.
Bam, needs to go to a bar.

Nature could win.
She goes for a spin.
A leaf falls on her head.
She becomes a bird's bed.

Hmm that would be weird.
Could her head get cleared?
Bet the dogs would help.
The bird would then yelp.

She could go for a slip.
A slip on the backyard drip.
The drip from the dogs.
You know, brown logs.

They could eat her computer up.
Just like a frisky pup.
No more posting at all.
At least until a new one comes to her hall.

My, the odds are sinking.
The dogs must be drinking.
They stopped making them tumble.
Do I hear a rumble?

They ate everything in the house.
Nothing left even for a mouse.
She's got nothing to eat.
The internet connection gets chucked for a treat.

She goes away.
She does that at her bay.
Traveling near and far.
Whoops, plane instead of car.

Or the dogs have a fit.
They do all of it.
Odds are rather low.
All because she gave a vacation a go.

Odds = To The Dogs
Hopefully They Don't Lead Her Into Bogs

Who knew dogs made odds go so low? I've seen some give computer chewing a go. We just chew the cord at our sea. Hey, a cheaper replacement fee. Ever have a bird make a nest on your head? Bet that bird wound up dead. Dogs sure can eat homework and so much more. Maybe they'll eat her shoes and she can't leave her shore. The could up the odds to a new class. But we'll stick with those already given by my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Monday, July 31, 2017

A What If Blue Sure Comes Due!

The cat is nearly a year ahead. Yep, I have put that many posts to bed. A lot can change in a year. Every day rhymes can at any time be kicked into gear. But rhymes about bloggers can change as they go away. So for August, and last day of July, the what if odds game will come to play.


Today it's Fundy Blue.
Taking bets at my zoo.
Better get them in,
Before this post hits its final spin.

Odds of still posting.
Odds of the cat roasting.
One is greater than the other.
If you don't know, ask your mother.

She travels here and there.
Not sure I've seen her swear.
That means odds of getting shot are down,
As she drives about town.

You Americans carry guns.
Gun totting nuns.
That would give me the runs.
Be scary by tons.

She researches a lot.
Could stumble onto a dastardly plot.
Could be that of a killer northern clown.
That takes the odds down.

She travels near and far.
Not much by car.
Those planes are big.
They can dance a jig.

And when they dance,
One can only glance.
As boom they go.
My, her odds are low.

She goes to Hawaii's coast.
There she could roast.
The sun may get to her.
A sunburn that could spur.

Or she could drown in the water.
Maybe she can swim like an otter?
Even odds could be got there.
Still not looking good for her lair.

The odds are in.
A post she will still spin.
Whether or not it's scheduled though,
I just don't know.

Odds = Kinda Low
With All That Travel and Killer Clowns You Never Know

Geez, Fundy Blue does dangerous stuff. A northern killer clown plot would be rough. Is she still posting come August 2017? I guess we shall see at her scene. Lots of what ifs that could lead to her demise. Odds are though she won't feed flies. What? The cat is just having fun with odds at his sea. I may get to thee. Maybe she just quit the blogging pass. I guess we shall see if she's still around and I'm a right little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Challenging It Is With This Quiz!

The cat will quiz you today. Yep, such a challenge it will be on display. I am going to make you work. Isn't that a perk? Using your mind. Damn, I may break mankind.

2 plus 2.
What comes due?
Take your time,
With my challenging chime.

2 minus 2.
No rushing from you.
Make sure to think it over.
It is okay to ask rover.

2 times 2.
Really getting hard for you.
Work it out on paper.
Even us a calculator for this caper.

2 divided by 2.
Are you turning blue?
I know, such hard work.
Isn't such a challenge a perk?

Now we get rough.
This next section is tough.
Challenging it will be.
But I, kinda, believe in thee.

1 plus 1.
Give it a run.
I know it is tricky.
Aren't challenges icky?

1 minus 1.
Damn, this isn't fun.
It is soooo hard.
Forever you'll be scarred.

1 times 1.
You're under the gun.
We are almost done.
Hint: the answer isn't none.

1 divided by 1.
What could be spun?
This is so hard on the head.
This challenge may leave you dead.

Now add all the answers together.
This challenge you can weather.
Hint: Look on the back of this post.
There the answer you can toast.

Weren't you challenged today? My, what a challenge at my bay. Can you tell I'm being a sarcastic cat? Pfffft to any of that. Have people become so dumb and brain umm numb that such meager challenges about are actually a challenge to more than trout? I'm talking average every day people too. Not learning disabilities at any zoo. Although you'd think many have one. They are so dumb by a ton. The definition of challenge may need to be changed. Or at least rearranged. If it is challenging when you are all but given the answer to it, then I'm a rhyming dog that can roll over and sit. That is all for my oh so challenging challenge pass. I challenge you to prove wrong my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.