I'm doing 43 things
Here’s a haiku/palindrome I wrote called, “Obsession.”
Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob,
Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob,
Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob, Bob
MrFizzlebush's Life List
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1. I want to create a seventeen-syllable word that encompasses the human condition, and then use that word to form the world’s most perfect haiku.
26 cheers23 people -
2. I want to meet the cleverest of all the dinosaurs, the one with a brain the size of a walnut cracker.
4 cheers1 person -
3. I want to dive headlong into my next relationship, but my family and friends aren’t yet comfortable with the idea of me dating a bucket of water.
11 cheers1 person -
4. I want to buy my girlfriend, Ruby Amber Andalusite, a precious stone, but I just don’t know the names of any.
8 cheers1 person -
5. I want to steal business away from the local waste management company, because I’m good at stealing shit.
9 cheers1 person -
6. I met a girl at the club named Line. Now all I want to do is shake my ass like an earthquake, and it’s all your fault, Line.
5 cheers1 person -
7. I don’t want to see Bigfoot. I want to see Bigfoot’s penis.
8 cheers1 person -
8. I want to have a place in the mushroom cloud, for when all things blow up
1 entry . 1 cheer1 person -
9. I want to write a story about a urinal that taunts a man who can’t pee, and that man gets so sad that streams of urine flow down his cheeks.
5 cheers1 person -
10. I want an igloo made not of ice, but out of ice-cube trays.
2 cheers1 person -
11. I want to write flammable stories about ants, that scholars could scrutinize under a magnifying lens.
2 cheers1 person -
12. I want a rug of fire, so all my unwanted guests would get rug burn.
3 cheers1 person -
13. I want the ego of an egret, without all the plumage.
4 cheers1 person -
14. I want to write a story about a fire hydrant with a penis that goes around urinating on statues of dogs.
7 cheers1 person -
15. I want to write a poem about “Truth,” “Honor,” “Dignity,” and whether the toilet paper should roll over or under when you pull on it.
8 cheers1 person -
16. I want to have my stomach surgically replaced with a coin slot tank, so I can effectively charge women for the use of my vibrating penis.
2 cheers1 person -
17. I want two pairs of shoe laces, so I could finally get a decent meal.
2 cheers1 person -
18. I want to stop jiggling my genitalia in front of other people’s mirrors.
3 cheers1 person -
19. I want lips around my anus, so I could smile when I’m constipated.
1 cheer1 person -
20. I want to go fishing one last time for my father, although I honestly don’t think I’ll have any better luck trying to dredge up his body.
2 cheers1 person -
21. I want a pet that’s furry and blurry, like Bigfoot.
5 cheers1 person -
22. I want to invent edible ink, and then write a book about starving people who are too hungry to read.
5 cheers1 person -
23. I want to value every moment I spend contemplating the moments I’m spending.
5 cheers1 person -
24. I want to obtain linguistic precision in my writing by mounting a laser-sighted scope on my pen.
4 cheers1 person -
25. I want commercials to stop portraying males as shallow, superficial idiots, because to be honest, there’s a lot of pressure and hard work in maintaining that image.
3 cheers1 person -
26. I want to salivate into a bucket and make Pavlov drink it.
2 cheers1 person -
27. I want to skydive in spandex, and I want my girlfriend to stare at the wind rushing over my bunched up ball sack through the lens of a telescope.
1 cheer1 person -
28. I want to weight less, not through diet and exercise, but by acquiring a faulty scale.
3 cheers1 person -
30. I want to joust using a wet spaghetti noodle, against a knight named Rusty, a man named after the condition of his armor.
5 cheers1 person -
31. I want to be thankful for 17 things. That way, I can wake up every morning and be able to count all my blessings on my fingers and toes.
3 cheers1 person -
32. I want my three-fingered friend to stop playing the piano, and start bowling.
1 cheer1 person -
33. I want to meet the 43 most interesting people on here, then collaborate on something completely absurd.
5 cheers1 person -
34. I want to write a haiku/palindrome.
1 entry . 1 cheer1 person -
35. I want to be brave like my father was, before Farmer Dan axed off his head, fried him, and ate him.
1 person -
36. I want to be a (naughty) negotiator, and then take pictures of myself in compromising positions.
3 cheers1 person -
37. I want to be a naughty pirate, because when I put on that eye patch, it barely covers my genitals.
5 cheers1 person -
38. I want to be a celebrity so I can be an exotic dater. Mostly I’ll date Bigfoot and various UFOs, so the paparazzi won’t ever be able to get a clear picture for the tabloids.
3 cheers2 people -
39. I want to write my own eulogy, and I want to write it in Latin. It seems only fitting to read a dead language at my funeral.
6 cheers1 person -
41. I want to meet a man who sleeps with one eye open, especially if that man is a Cyclops.
4 cheers1 person -
42. I want a deodorant that smells like hot sex, because then it wouldn’t seem so strange when I huff my armpits while I moan and gyrate my pelvis.
1 cheer1 person -
43. I want to see athletes wrestle writers in a reality show called, “Pros Vs. Prose.”
1 person
Recent entries
I want to have a place in the mushroom cloud, for when all things blow up—don’t you talk to me with the same mouth you use to orally copulate with half the population you dirty little flea bag you sleep on a fruit roll up but you dance with the devil’s pitchfork and you expect me to actually punctuate your sentence in hell? Go sleep with a door jam in a toe jam in strawberry jam that covers a whole English muffin that sweet, sweet muffin that left me a cookie made out of used toy parts with a crust thicker than the earth’s. I want to name a helicopter after a punctuation mark, preferably the apostrophe. You know, this stream of conscious writing doesn’t really work. The only thing it might do is sharpen my writing skills by pure numbers alone, in quantity I mean. But where is the quality? The quality comes from hard thinking, not mindless prattle taking form on the rattle of fingers beating against a keyboard like some Viking war drum. Did the Vikings even have war drums? Hell if I know, maybe they crept around in silence, not warning the village that they were about to get plundered and marauded. But don’t stand there with your eye lids glued to your eyeballs, if you want to wow me, you’ve got to show me your flamingo nipples, and that’s not easy to do. But I’ll tell you what. If you write ten thousand words a day, for one hundred days, then we are talking about some serious training. And after you’ve got one million words under your belt, you will have proven yourself to be a serious champion of words, and maybe then the god of language will bless you with wild ideas after you’ve proven your dedication. But maybe the God of words demands a sacrifice? Maybe you should hang a man for him. Maybe you should hang ten, and all of them should contain words and phrases that are unfamiliar to you. Maybe then the sharks and the dolphins will loosen their stomachs , and the snakes will loosen their jaws, and the owls will turn their heads in reverence, and you, yes you, will walk through the forest with your head held high like a Pez dispensers. And maybe you can finally take off your paper suit, and stop screaming at the black clouds for ruining your suit. Huh? You ever think of that? Maybe yon need to wear a garbage bag like some homeless man. Walk around with a moving box on your head demanding newspapers and hamster food to be thrown at you. But not tomatoes, because that upsets your acid reflux, you silly little mushroom-haircutted Lorca lover. But don’t take my word for it, take my words. I’ll give you two: Fuck off.
