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Jim Guys Cooperative Poetry

Jim Guys writing poetry while playing video games

One of the ancient Jim Guys traditions has been to write poetry. I've never heard of multiple writers collaborating and contributing to a single poem, and if it's been done, well certainly not like this! Our poetry reflects our non sequitur style of humor. In reality, there is not a word for our humor. We feel it predates the modern semi-popularity of this style of humor, and regardless, it is one-of-a-kind. We like to call it "random" or "senseless" humor. You will find that many of my drawings, especially in the pencil gallery, reflect this type of "humor", as it were. Another habit of ours is to constantly coin new words or adapt existing words to our liking.

Perhaps the closest description of some of the elements of our humor and personality can be found in this definition of Mo le tau, or perhaps better yet, gau m daap baat. It's no wonder that Stephen Chow is currently my favorite director, and Shaolin Soccer is my favorite movie. Even this is not exactly us though. Some other movies and people that we somewhat relate to are: Kung Pow, Weird Al Yankovic, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, They Might Be Giants, etc. Not one of these reflects all our weird uniqueness, but we latched on to some of these sources when we saw the commonalities.

Our poetry writing tradition involves each participant writing one line in a stanza (if there are stanzas). We trade off, each "building" on what was previously written. There is no way to predict how the poem will develop or what will happen next. In reality, we often shoot for total randomness, and there is no discernible story or message of the poem. I can't imagine there are many groups of friends that enjoy such a bizarre activity. Well, here is the first time in Jim Guy history where all four of us contributed to such a poem. It is third in a series of sorts. The lines of each 4-line stanza are authored in the following order: Jim, Dave, Marcus, Phil. It was written while playing video games at the cabin.

a poem by Jim, Dave, Marcus and PhLo
July 27, 2007

"Weave this story!" thrust the mustard stench
Ankle deep in his own mediocrity, the tinsel weeps
His pantaloons painted with pickled ponies deep,
Cheapened Won Ton cookies, art thou whistle worn?

Fretting meanderers cower yon cole-slaw sunrises
But woe to the elephant who crosses the sea without his annotated beaker collection
"Destroy these sacred jammies," bellowed sorcerer Steve!
The wheels turn aerobic fashion like Steve Gyro-Hero

Hunka? This reasoned Ron-Tonky; supposed this wuzzas his Tolstoy
Bean-bag chairs aren't very comfortable for robots
Oh Yuck! There's mustard all over my eye-mat! Get some more?
Walmart viral infections upon store pickup in Foster city

Her emblazened neck-thingies were singing softly with out a tune (berry)
Admonished by her pet fire-weasel she removes the fire hydrant from her elbow pocket
At this time each Thursday, being Hamster-Face gives me his monacle
So why, therefore is she so in tune with Buck 'n' Smoke?

Close your mind, rub your toes, find feast among-em's
Just remember not to anger the prestigious toiletry gods
Lest their supplies begin to overtake the mastle-camjoy
And Bison upturns sorrow from whenst he kapow kajoilers

Soup, soup, soup, doesn't matter where it is - there's never is a blowhart
And without a RAMAKIN where will the severed ears go?
Into the pickle vortex, the mighty lad pointed
Until keel haulin' sputniks untie thread depoolers

"Make your bed!!!" Justinian cries-a-foul moon-tipped calligraphy epicure
"I refuse" spake the rickety corn-loper as it consumed its new
"Wiggle mongers, all of you!" man-pie chortled eloquently
Violent and masquerading pattie quakers fince

Depressing fun-filled Unitarian hell-bound graham cracking suckle-took maniac
He's my brother
Some Vietnam-era sock puppet posies greet the fulcrum with ease!
Why then refund the tucked-in pants that Danny infested?

Slowpokes give you heartthrob, as does Frieda wallop
Somewhere in Eastern Montana lies a great cavern
bereft of hippocampus, apes within
Except when enough sunshine shines shore shown Schuckers

Relinquishing a quest is poorer a choice for sun-dried razors
Perhaps you would like to try one of our "toe rippers"?
"No thanks, I've got yaks to spay," which is pretty gross
So why then have we digressed to discuss animal yuckeries?

This poignant precept is ... sort of ... excessively luncheon
Forty galleons galliantly gallop toward the aforementioned gelding
A man wielding one shiny pigeon shone through their wombat defenses
Oh, fiddlesticks! Goop in my shoe again! Bad drugs!

Bit bug bed; Romeo is Fred; longing for leggings and panty-hosens
Red Rancher Reemus patiently accepts his cousin Fred's fiendish apothecary
Whereas Reemus had bisected his own hyper fimble clasp,
and huggy tickle Me Joy Bear bore my sewery mistenclafle

If a skull is shined does it mind the wise?
Or does it blind the interrogators who just want to be kind?
And what of those heroes unsung for which we now compose?
I'd say it's stool-sitting days become ... or something ordinary!

Pompous peppers sprinkled and peppered surrounding pepper-Pete's paprika unicorn
Patronizing Patronuses peer peevishly over the Parson's Parlor
Phil's philharmonic poses a problem for pneumonia addicts
Muphinous muffins mufinated after Mufindra Big Whale

Next time I organize a reunion I better not find my Tommy toilet sock!
Toilet sauce is nasty and it is yucky!
Poetic history always requires 19 references to Toilet sleuice
Mommy Potato handed down the esteemed dictation: "T-O-I-L-E-B!"

Formerly known as: Guy with seven Chico-Stix Sanchez
Although pretzels look neat, they're actually filled with carcinogenic, genetically enhanced tree-frog colonies
Oh, how soggy thine flig mandibles do
I once starlit my hamster, "Nerds take advice only from fictional comic and movie characters."

"I think Hampsterdam has a 'P'."

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