Ode to AR

"AR Succumbs to Peer Pressure"

Once, there lived a boy named AR.
He wouldn't do much,
Not at all.
Just sit in the darkness,
his monitor the only source of light.
Until one day, there came a knocking
Which disturbed his techno stores.

"Little boy, little boy,
Open this damned door!"
But all AR did was ignore,
His World of Warcraft calling,
but the knocking kept persisting.
"I've got skittles, little boy,
If you come play with me, you can have these sugary treats!"
Ar seemed anxious:
Skittles or more mindless violence?
"Slide them under the door!"
The little boy employed.
"But, I've got booze to make you dizzy!"
"Some other time, I'm much too busy!"
It appeared that AR's addiction was much too sound,
For he continued and did not turn around.
World of Warcraft had won the second round.
"Please little boy, I've got candy and sweets galore!"
pleaded the voice on the other side of the door
In such a high pitch that made AR turn up the sound.
So high in fact,
that he had to blast his speakers to get the hi-fi effect.
The techno and trance were blaring,
The voice was drowned out as it was swearing.
"If you don't get out here this instant,"
The voice screamed to break his last resistance,
"Ill kill the server and all your channels!"
AR srung from his desk,
jabbing AFK as fast as his fingers would let.
He hurried through the room to the voice--
what a blasphemer--
He opened the door,
and what a surprise,
it was the sun,
Which gouged out his eyes
and tore up AR's insides.
That's what AR gets,
kids of all ages,
For succumbing to peer pressure,
and not being a hater.

Mmm.. onion-breath

There's really nothing that can get you in the mood for writing obscure, mataphysical poetry like Neutral Milk Hotel. Mmmm... Since I haven't really written anything besides unwaranted silly poems in the past months, here we go:

(It's much better than reading Frankenstein, anyway.)
Yeah, just realized I can't write anything happy. So, here's my half-assed attempt, edit later:

"Forget Walking Steady"

Place that hat on your head
tonight we're drinking away
our inihibitions are here to stay
they've got a card up thier sleeve.

Tonight they're playing aces--
tonight a story beginins,
but this night we're losing our inhibitions,
this chapter has come to an end.

Now she's strutting her stuff
Stop at the door
don't go just yet
there's just something about a red silk dress.

Take a chance,
lose yourself in the game.
There's somthing about a red silk dress,
that made you glad you came.

If there was something you your head,
drown it in a drink.
Tonight we're losing our inhibitions,
doing whatever it takes to make the pieces fit.

Wait for your chance--
ready, steady, hurry and go now,
don't stay and wait it out:
you've got nothing to lose tonight

Wmile with an uncouth stare
it's been a while.
but you've it drank away
you're socially sound.

Tonight they're playing aces--
tonight a story begins.
But this night we're losing our inhibitions.
Thhis chapter came to an end with a shot of gin.

I want to learn Swedish

So, internal struggle: to buy the 169.50 dollar tickets to Bonnaroo, or not to
I mean, most of the bands going I absolutely adore (Elvis Costello, anyone? DUNGEN!!!!!)

But... Maybe, just maybe, I can get my cousin to drop a word with My Morning Jacket... ;-; If not, I'll maul him and make him buy me tickets.

So, if anyone's looking for a KICK-ASS 18th Birthday gift... this would be it.
OR you all could pitch in and get me a pass. That'd work too.