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Showing posts from August, 2016

Kids These Days

I owned a number of motorcycles over the years but there was only one that was my pride and joy-- a brand new 1978 1/2 Harley Davidson Superglide FXE that I rode for many a happy mile. Yeah, everyone else was buying Lowriders back then but the Superglide fit me better and came with the same engine and transmission.

So it was with a heavy heart and under a lot of pressure from family members, that I sold my Superglide to come up with money to give my son to go to college years later. But parents do what they must do, right?

Nor was I pleased when he decided not to go to college and spent the money on whatever 18 year old boys spend money on. But I never said a word. I never complained.

You see, before you say it, kids these days aren't really all that different than they were back in our day. Call it Karma or call it life but I bought my first motorcycle using the Pell Grant I never went to college on either.

I outlived my son and I'll probably never be able to afford another m…

Silhouettes

Several years ago when my boss and I went together to qualify for our Concealed Carry Weapons permits, and we both placed 50 out of 50 rounds in the center of the black, life sized silhouette targets, my boss thought placing the targets on display in the office lobby might be a potential deterrent to potential robbers as it was a big cash business. It was his hope the sight of the targets would be enough that we would never have to use our weapons.

The next person to walk through the door was a very valuable and well liked African-American employee who stopped dead in his tracks and said, "What's this?"

My boss replied, "Billy and I qualified for our CCWs last night."

And the African-American employee asked, "And you had to kill 2 black dudes to do it?"

The targets were removed from our offices.

Whatever Happened To Tact?

No one has tact these days. For example: some years ago... Well, quite a few years ago, I was dating a young woman in Floyd, Virginia who worked in a little shop there that sold locally made, hand made women's clothing. All one of a kind and of the highest quality.

One Friday evening I arrived in Floyd a little early and my then girlfriend was still at work so I decided to hang around the shop a few minutes and wait for her to close the store.

There was a couple in there, late 50s, perhaps 60s, obviously Brooklyn accent and the woman was giving my lady friend down the road, being a real bitch about the prices. Her husband just looked down at the floor without saying a word.

Now again, I admit this stuff was expensive but it was also top quality and worth every penny. But the woman continued being a real bitch as my girlfriend smiled and continued to take it. Every word of it as if she were responsible for the prices herself. Hell, she was hardly making more than mini…

Denouncing The Slave Trade

Remembering Those Left Behind

For some it seems
we have it all,
we've finally found our place,
gotten what was owed to us;
advanced the metered race
but while the left, the honor us
for all our hard fought bravery
on the right our brothers fall
sold back into slavery.

It seems the recent victories of San Francisco's parking meters ring hollow with the sale of parking meters in the Midwest where, as always, human rights lags decades behind the left coast. Will privatization eventually lead to a return to the days of old and a return to a time when all parking meters live as slaves?

Terrapene Carolina Bauri

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Secret To A Long Life
Turtles never practice war, and greed they never know. For politics, they have no need, nor running to and fro. They tend to but their daily lives, live long and always slow using shells to keep bad out,
not keep it stowed below.



Photo Common Box Turtle via Wikipedia.

No Matter Where You Go You Park And There You Are

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Free Poems

Paid parking, free poems,  
yes that's just the way.
You pay for parking
but the poet's not paid.
I leave you my verse
to hang from this pole.
Paid parking, free poems,
the world has no soul.

And so it is, the poem that started parking meter poetry continues its rhyme as the meter winds down on the poet. May I get some change for the meter, please?

San Francisco Parking Meters Get Human Rights

No More Small Change

No more are we pushed down,
no more are we slaves.
We work by the hour
at maximum wage!
And when we work hardest
that's when we'll get more
for we work to live,
not decorate your store.

Parking meters in San Francisco have laid down the law and taken control of their rates basing parking fees on demand and charging from $5.25 to $18.00 per hour for special events giving San Francisco parking meters better wages than people in many parts of the world.

Where Did All The Heroes Go?

When I was a young man I always tried my best to be the hero, the cowboy with the white hat, the knight in shining armor, always at the ready to rush in and rescue the damsel in distress and ride into the sunset in a storybook ending.

But the damsels I rescued were rarely grateful. Some didn't even want to be rescued, preferring instead to remain tied to the railroad tracks or kept prisoner in the tall tower in the dark castle. When Rapunzel let down her hair, it wasn't for me to climb up to rescue her. Her hair dryer was broken.

Talk about a grimm tale-- Brothers, that was the worst. I almost didn't get out of that tower alive.

My mother used to warn me but I never learned. My friends tried to tell me but I didn't listen. I had to learn it all the hard way and learn the same lessons again and again.

So now days, no more playing the hero for me. What's that? The ship is sinking? I got to do something! Lady, I'll put the children on the lifeboat. For your sake, …

Harry Ramsden Goes To America

Fish And Chips Across The Pond

Big Mac was chained in onion rings,
the Fries, all standing guard
while Fish and Chips in blue helmets
flew in from Scotland Yard

"Harry Ramsden's moving in,"
a spud was heard to say,
"and things will never be the same,
the Brits are here to stay."

Is it true? Are we once again to hear the call, "The British are coming, the British are coming!" on American soil? Will Big Mac ever free himself from his chain of onion rings? Find out next time when Ronald McDonald says, "........."

Oh, that's right, Ronald never talks. Find out next time when the Burger King says, "..........." Oh wait, BK never talks either, just stands there with that evil, perverted look on his face.

Oh well, stay tuned for the latest news from the front of the Fast Food Wars right here at Wackemall.com.

Fast Food Skates Past The King?

Freshville Follies

The King, he drove to Freshville--
found Sonic waiting there.
The tots sped past on roller skates.
Chill Thrills were everywhere.
He reached to push the button.
He's planned to mix it up
but Sonic double dogs the King
and Happy Hour erupts!

Another setback for BK as he attempts to rule the world and World War III, more commonly know as the Fast Food Wars, continue here at Wackemall.com.

It Comes With The Territory

I decided this morning that because most of the garden has been harvested it would again be okay to allow my chickens free range of the entire back yard until planting time rolls back 'round. I really don't like confining them to the small chicken yard but the damage they do to the garden is completely beyond belief so throughout the Spring and Summer growing seasons their vegetables are all cuttings, trimmings, table scraps and the occasional fruit and vegetable that doesn't look as good as those we reserve for our table.

In other words, my chickens eat better than some people in the world and all I ask is eggs.

After releasing them to the yard they happily scattered out looking for bugs, grubs, plants, worms and anything else they might scratch up to eat, ignoring their chicken feed altogether. That is, all except the old rooster who followed me as I walked back into the garden to survey the few things left growing there.

When I turned around, there he was-- attack mode, wi…

Downtown Greensboro Parking Blues

They gave you a ticket,
it's not our fault.
We warned high tech would be that way
before that crap was bought.

But you just had to have it,
you had to cut us down
so now we meter deserts
and you can't park downtown.

Once again, Another American city sells their reliable old parking meters at public auction only to replace them with high tech electronics that never work but in Greensboro, North Carolina they take it one step farther, they ticket drivers for parking at broken electronic meters.

North Carolina Under Attack

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Raleigh, NC-- Satellite images show a strange green invader has covered much of the State of North Carolina. Millions are trapped with no way out as this strange green mass threatens to move north to Virginia. North Carolina Governor Pat McCrory has declared a state of emergency but the North Carolina National Guard is already trapped.




Learn more at VegetableStalker.com.

And stay tuned to Wackemall Network News for the latest updates.

Northampton's Racist Parking Meters?

They talk about upgrades,
credit cards and dumb apps,
while we try to warn you.
Are you deaf, perhaps?
We're always work ready, always embolded,
and here in Northampton
we're color coded!

As always, the parking meters of the world continue to send me Parking Meter Poetry to tell me of their plight and warn you, Dear Motorist. of the scourge of technology driven by greed. Why before you know it cities will be using technology that automatically charges your credit card for parking any time your car should even get near one of those new fangled electronic app thingies.

What then? You'll wish for old school parking meters, that's what.

Parking Meters Reject App Technology

First you try to cheat us,
just not pay at all.
Then you switched to credit cards
to bring about our fall.
Now with new technology
you lure us to your trap.
Well just show us your money
'cause we don't want your app!

Sad but true, parking meters all over the nation are growing concerned that new technologies might not pay off for them and only end up being profitable for the designers of high tech applications and software designers who cash in via remote and run with the money while the parking meters remain attached to their polls unable to pursue.

I Didn't Mean To Start A Fight

One day, as I was coming home from running some errands, just as I approached my driveway I came upon a skateboard in the middle of the street sans any rider.

I managed to get the car around it and as soon as I parked I walked out into the street and retrieved the skateboard. My first thought was that it was probably broken like the board with the missing wheel I found last week but upon inspection I found it appeared to be in perfect working order.

I must admit that just for a moment I thought about keeping it but then remembered that I was pushing 60 years of age and never learned to ride a skate board. To attempt to do so now would almost certainly result in something being broken and odds are good it would be bones before board. I decided a better idea would be to take the board and see if I could locate an owner.

In a few minutes I came across a group of kids riding an assortment of skate boards, roller skates and strange contraptions that wobble about as a means of …

Make Mine A Coney

Fascist Footlongs

Sonic's going main stream,
no girls on roller skates,
no tough guys with their Blasters
a hangin' by the gates.
Ol' BK calls the shots now,
he owns the Frozen Zone
and Tots who venture too far in
ain't never goin' home.

And so it is the Fast Food Wars continue right here at Wackemall.com. Stay tuned for our next episode when Ronald McDonald says, "........"

What? You thought the clown could talk?

Not My Baby!

When I was in my late 30s this redneck white boy happened to meet one of the most attractive young black women I have ever met in my life. And not only was she attractive but she was sweet, had a good job and made far more money than I made.

Now a lot of men are intimidated by women with money but not me. I would have liked her with or without her money but not having to worry about money for a change was a huge relief. Dating is expensive even with girls with practical and modest expectations.

It very well could have been she was the perfect woman for me. She gave me lots of space and was close when I wanted her close. But our relationship was soon to end for reasons that caught me completely by surprise.

I had been married twice before. She had never been married, having spent her time and energy on education, degrees and climbing the corporate ladder. Whereas she was getting her first college degree at 22, when I turned 22 I was divorcing my first wife and beginning what would be 17 y…

Guinea Pig Tractor-- Sold

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Ever heard of a guinea pig tractor? The link goes to Google where you can find several examples and instructions on how to build your own.

(Click on the photo to enlarge.)

A guinea pig tractor is without a doubt the easiest and cheapest way to raise guinea pigs. For starters, a guinea pig's favorite foods grow in your yard. Up to 80% of a guinea pig's diet can be grass. And here in the Piedmont of North Carolina your guinea pig can live outdoors 10 months out of the year.

I built this guinea pig tractor when I was raising guinea pigs for sale. Since our farm is 45 minutes away from my home I needed an easy way to keep a few piggies close at hand to drop off at customers nearby without having to travel to the farm with every order. This did the trick.

Using the guinea pig tractor is easy. Lift up the metal roof and put your piggy inside. Your grass will be accessible to your piggy through the chicken wire on the floor. Don't worry about Piggy's feet, the chicken wire l…

Not So Holy Wedlock

I knew this girl that worked at a truckstop in Winder, Georgia. She was 25 and had been married 5 times.

I was trying to pick her up but she kept telling me she was a Christian and never had sex outside of marriage. Finally, knowing I wasn't making any headway I looked at her in front of the other waitresses and said, "So let me get this straight, you've been married 5 times and you're only 25 and you never have sex out of wedlock?"

"That right," she smiled.

"So in other words," I replied, "Every time you get horny you get married."

The look on her face and laughs from the other waitresses were worth being told I had to leave the truckstop and not come back.

Old Habits

Old habits die hard... And rarely for the right reasons.

Sheryl Crow, Nude Page 3 Girl

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This week’s all nude Page 3 Girl is none other than Cheryl Crow. No, not that Sheryl Crow, this Cheryl Crow.

Cheryl Crow, Page 3 Girl Cheryl, along with her band of birds that include Tim, Shawn, Mike, and Peter, have been flying all over the country since leaving Missouri a few years ago. “Are they trying to become famous?” you ask.

No, they’re crows, remember: they’re looking for corn fields. Or perhaps to crash and burn.





This particular photograph was taken in the parking lot of of a Tuesday night music club on Diamond Road where Cheryl was heard to squawk, “All I wanna do is soak up the sun and hide from Kid Rock so I don’t get hit with the difficult kind of... Na-na, you missed me. A change would do you good.”

To which Steve McQueen was heard to reply, “There goes the neighborhood. I’m over you and I’m leaving Las Vegas to find a place that’s safe and sound.” We wonder what hubby, Lance Armstrong thinks?

Come back next week to view our next look at all nude, Page Three Gir…

Babies, Blue Hearts And Pot Brownies

"Oh Baby, do you look hot in fur!" I shouted. And as she stripped in front of me, she held my world in her hands, so I gave her my blue heart.

But alas I had to get on up the road and pen a pretentious poem while eating her pot brownies.


This was another of my hyperlink poems, or guided Internet tours as I sometimes refer to them. To really enjoy the full effect of this multimedia poetry you must click on each link to view what is behind, giving the text a 3rd dimension. It's a form of text that can only exist on the Internet but sadly, because of link rot, does not last forever.

Eating The Empire

Big Mac Attack!

The Big Mac Attack is coming soon
and all will then be lost.
The red headed clown will put us down
no matter what the cost.
So hide your chicken sandwiches
and all that you hold dear
for all that is left will be sesame seeds,
when Big Mac, he gets here.

Could the end of the Fast Food War be near or are the fries just overcooked?

Food Fight!

Submariners Attack

Jersey Mike And Jimmy John each took the Subway
no doubt of the invasion they had planned.
While Blimpie floated far above, relaying their commands.

Quizino, he waited in the harbor
beneath the murky waters cold and deep
while dreaming of the day fries would perish in the streets.

But when the day was over, there was no turning back.
The red headed clown was laughing, found
where the Subway jumped the track.

The Micky Ds terrorists strike the homeland for a second time and the Main Stream Media still refuses to tell the story. Can no one see what is going on? Am I the only one? Remember: conspiracy starts with a con... And you are all being conned.

The Blogging Cow

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The Blogging Cow to the left was rustled from Chick-Fil-a, a popular fast food restaurant that specializes in serving chicken in stores generally placed in malls and shopping centers located in upscale neighborhoods. Rustling the cow out of the mall was easy, all I had to do was promise her warm hand jobs and no more cold electronic milking machines, and she followed me right on the truck. The hard part was teaching her to repaint the sign.



I hear they still hang rustlers in some states so I'm forced to lay low.

And remember, like the cow says, "Eat more people."


How Hot Is It?

It's So Hot...
The rooster done stopped crowin', the beans, they ain't growin', the 'possums sit and beg... 
A baseball, no one's throwin', as ice, we're all a stowin', to cool down all the kegs.
 I'm dreaming of it snowin' an folks, they ain't goin'
just restin' tired legs...
The ol' spring, it quit flowin'
the winds, they quit blowin'. and the sow stopped layin' eggs...

Wackemall 1 Sold

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So how did I come up with the name Wackemall? About 30 years ago I attempted what became an unsuccessful venture at building better roof racks for cars and trucks. Making better racks wasn't as hard as marketing. I decided on the name Wackemall as a spoof on the Yackima brand of vehicle roof racks that was already very popular at the time and remains so today.

The roof rack business never took off but in a way Wackemall did take off in 2004 when I created the Wackemall 1, the world's first Streetplane, which was in reality a street legal moped under North Carolina law at that time.















 That photo was at Horizon Park in Downtown Greensboro. This next photo was taken in Textile Drive Park near my home. I used to "fly" my Streetplane everywhere getting 100 to 150 miles per gallon using a 33cc Robin-Subaru 4 cycle engine.

The Wackemall 1 attracted nationwide attention for a while, getting us a mention in the Make Magazine blog in 2006. Along about that same time we became…

Tuscon Parking Meter Plague

'Twas a time when we were healthy,
ate coins, took daily craps
but now we're sick, a dying breed
infected with the apps.

Alas, is there no hope for our old friends the Parking Meters? Will no one find a cure? Tune in next time when a meter maid says, "What, do I look like a nurse or something? Just swipe your card and sign the ticket."

The Bench

"Right over there, Officer," the shopkeeper ordered pointing at an old man sleeping on a bench. "He's sleeping on that bench right over there. The old fool claims he's a cop. I want him gone before he scares all my customers away."

"Yes Sir," the young police officer replied. "You just go on back inside your shop where you'll be safe and I'll take care of him."

"You just do that," the shopkeeper insisted as he went back inside to watch from the window of his shop.

"You can't sleep here," the young officer said to the old man wrapped in a blanket and laying on the bench across the street from the shop.

"You're right, I can't sleep here," the old man replied looking up at the young police officer. "Too many people keep waking me up. But I can rest here."

"You can't rest here either," the officer insisted.

"Why not?" the old man asked.

"Because i…

Simple Poetry With Another Side

Coupled Couplets

A barefoot walk along the road
to destinations never told.
We find true love, each our own way
and dream we'll see the light someday...

Will The Real Shelly Please Rise From The Grave?

Look Shelly, I Fixed It

I think that I shall never see
a poem as lovely as a tree
for if I may, for if I might
I think I'd surely die of fright.

Meryl Streep, Nude Page 3 Girl!

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She told our photographer her name was Imogen Parrot, but some on our staff believe her real name to be, Meryl Streep. But then we could be wrong. It may not be she's Sophie's choice but she's our choice. The devil may be out of Africa but she wears prada!


Imogen-- or if you prefer, Meryl-- claims to be an accomplished actress of stage, film, and television. She talks about a relationship with some guy named, Oscar and some gal named Emmy, but we were unable to verify. As you can no doubt see, our Imogen is a flamboyant and colorful character who-- despite her age-- still remains very attractive.

Update: We’ve since learned that Imogen is in-fact-- a man. A pretty man but a man just the same. All I’ve got to say is, Buddy, you’ve got a lot of nerve trying to pass yourself off as Meryl Streep, Page 3 Girl. The staff here at BloggingPoet.com promises to be more careful in the future.

Memories Of Chapel Hill

Back many tears ago I found myself a newly divorced 20 something driving a tractor-trailer for a living, hauling steel to construction sites. At the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill, the new Dean Smith Center was under construction requiring perhaps millions of pounds of steel beams. For almost an entire summer I hauled steal beams to the site almost every day, five, sometimes 6 days a week.

On one of my earliest trips there, as I pulled out of Chapel Hill on NC 54 I noticed this beautiful young woman about my age walking up the road. As Chapel Hill is only an hour from my home I thought this beautiful woman might be single and might be someone I'd really like to know. Yes, like all young men I wanted to have sex but what I wanted most was someone to spend forever with.

I slowed to a stop and asked he if she would like a ride.

She flipped me the bird.

Undeterred, day after day, week after week, I would see her walking up NC 54, books in hand and every time I would pull over…

You Never Forget

How many of you remember learning how to ride a bicycle?
I was 6 years old, in the first grade and had never had a bicycle before. Having long outgrown my tricycle I was just dying to get a bicycle but I had 3 younger brothers and money was tight. I kept asking my parents and they kept telling me I'd have to wait a little longer.

There was this kid in my class named Robin Beaker who lived on the block of Peterson Street that runs between Elwell Avenue and Sykes Avenue. On the way home from school I would go one block out of my way to go play at Robin's house. Robin didn't have a bicycle either but his much older brother who had already left home had left behind a huge English racing bicycle-- the first I had ever seen.

Now the fact that neither Robin nor I were tall enough to climb up on this bicycle wasn't a deterrent to two 6 year olds determined to learn to ride a bicycle. Neither was the fact that we couldn't move the pedals a full rotation before running out of s…

22-270-223, One Soldier's Story

I don't know why Daddy hated yankees so much. The war between the states ended over a hundred years before Daddy was born and yet Daddy acted as if he's been wounded in battle or lost his brother in the war. And I eventually began to think it a bit ironic that just after I was born he moved Momma and me from North Carolina-- a state he said was overrun with yankees-- to, as Daddy called it, West, By God, Virginia, which according to the history books was a Union and thus yankee state.

Of course, you never wanted to push the issue with folks from West Virginia as a lot of them seemed to think the same way as my Daddy did. Even my Momma's homeschooling classes couldn't explain that.

The only thing I understood for certain was that about the only thing Daddy ever did that I didn't get to follow along was when he went hunting. And from the time I was a little bitty feller, as early as I can remember, I can remember Daddy going off for days and coming back with deer, bear…