Perhaps a nice Quiche.

 

You’d think I would have noticed

a turtle cross the room

lumbering there upon the rug

humming a turtle tune,

 

I’d expect to see a spider

or a fly come buzzing in –

something very tiny

and very, very thin,

 

But a turtle with its clunky shell

Has he even got a key?

how’d he pass the doorman?

didn’t anybody see?

 

And what about the stairway

how’d he reach the rail?

I know if I had flippers

on stairs I’d surely fail,

 

And if he reached the banister

and made it to my floor

I would have heard him scraping

even through my bedroom door,

 

I wonder if he’s hungry

is he now expecting lunch?

it is still a little early

maybe I’ll make brunch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In my defense

 

Should I ever have to justify my existence, it is possible I might sound a little silly saying that I spent my days writing a blog for strangers to read.  I did not do anything towards the advancement of humanity.  I did nothing to improve anyone’s living conditions, nor did I perform any random acts of kindness. 

For the most part, I just sat here.  Although it should also be noted that neither did I get in the way or cause any harm.  I made no promises that I didn’t keep and never professed to knowing what I was talking about.  I always said up front that it was all gibberish

My photography was a direct result of my own ideas, utilizing old-school technology.  No tricks and no computer shenanigans.  The photograph of the Combination Plate was put together with a fish I purchased at the local supermarket, as were the Clam Sandwich and Crab Sandwich pictures.  I was most proud of the Fortune Cookie. 

So, as a body of work, I believe Zobostic Left 2 Write will stand as a testament to mediocre achievement, surviving the barbs of any and all critics with good taste.   

 

 

Zobostic Corwin
        Blogger at Large

 

 

 

 

in passing...

 

Yes - This Really Happened

 Because our doorbell sounded like a barking dog, we got the following notices...

Mendocino Theatre Company

 

Because my usual red coffee mug was in the sink, waiting for me to wash it, I just took this mug instead.  That by itself isn’t all that blog worthy, however, my journey from the kitchen back here to my office was.

You see, the same button on the coffee maker I use for my red mug, filled this mug closer to the top, which meant I had to pay closer attention while walking with it.  If it should spill over, the coffee would stain the white ceramic tile floor.  I could wipe up the coffee, but the stain would remain behind.  That is simply the nature of stains. 

That stain would eventually lead to yelling in harsh accusatory tones.  Disharmony would escalate proportionately to the cost of the tile replacement. 

Relax, I didn’t spill it.  But it did get me to thinking about all of the various things going on within my body that went into stabilizing the liquid sloshing about in the mug.  Every muscle, every twitch and impulse, down to the furthest point away from my brain had to stay in constant contact with each other in order to ensure success.

Keep in mind, I had to do all this under the cover of darkness and I had to be absolutely quiet while doing it, or risk waking up the rest of the household.

 

OK, so maybe even that wasn’t blog worthy.

 

 

ZC

 

 

ZC - a responsible blogger

 

I’m going to tell you about my friend, Soda.  That isn’t his real name, that is the nickname we all gave him after his wife had her first kid and we knew he was going to be a pop.

He was so excited about having a family, that is the only time I ever saw him absolutely smashed.  In fact, I remember when he saw me heading up to his house to congratulate him, his face lit up and he tried to wave hello, but it just didn’t work.  He was just too plastered to operate his own arms.

That entire event reminded me of the time I wrote on this blog about quantum particles and how they had no problem passing through plastered walls.  Now, that may seem like I’m taking liberties with the language, but it’s for a good reason.

Soda is the one who suggested to me that you, (yes you) have an addiction and that I need to address it.  He says you are addicted to this blog.  You have to come here each day just to see what I’ve written about next.  You can’t help yourself.

He suggested that if I were a responsible blogger, I should write something so ridiculous, so incredibly stupid that it would snap you out of your Bloggy Trance.

 

How’d I do?

 

 

 

Your Sub-Woofer Sounds Raspy

 

Yes, we’re complicated

but we are also voice activated.

One harsh word, however…

can send us off in a wrong direction.

It can take many words

and a lot of time to get back on track.

That time is then gone

there is no getting it back.

Add into the mix health issues

sickness and strange or odd infections

they all affect greatly how we function.

But the true bandit is time itself

systems become worn, things fail.

There is a life-span built-in.

The fact that we know that

doesn’t change it.

It can start with a flicker

and maybe you are not the one

to first notice it.

Then something feels a little off

you’re not sure what.

One day, for some reason

you’re out of sorts.

Your timing skips

or what was always simple

now feels difficult but you’re not sure why.

Yes, we’re still complex

we look as we always have

but our maintenance chart has gone

into extra pages.

It feels like we're being treated differently.

There are rumors using words like

new and improved.

You don't like the sound of that

but you're tired.

Maybe if you just rested a little.

ZC