Señor Tapatío #poetry
Señor Tapatío rode into the town
Suit coat golden as the hills
And sombrero mostly brown
His crimson tie waved gayly in the wind
That’s basically everything
There ever was to know about him
“Isn’t it ironic,” he yelled, “that chilies are hot?” He roared with laughter. “Get it? Chilly? Hot?”
Then as quickly as he arrived he spurred his steed and disappeared into the sunset.
Conflict of Interest disclaimer: No pecuniary or sauce-based compensation was provided in consideration of this post. Not even a lousy 5-ounce bottle. -Ed.
Dear Guru: Mustard Sally
I’m withholding my otherwise witty comment.
Q.
Why do we put mustard on hot dogs?
—#Kzinti #from #Twitter
A.
I’ll be happy to answer that perceptive question. But first I feel the urge to sing.
Mustard Sally, think you better slow your mustard down.
Mustard Sally, think you better slow your mustard down.
You been running all over my hot dog.
Oh! I guess we’ll have to have your mustard on the ground.
Yo, cat! Sup? I have to say thanks for the question. I relish this opportunity. I shall endeavor to layer my response. Yep. Like an ogre. Ogres have layers. Onions have layers.
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Hot Dog
This is day seven of The Dog Days of Summer, a Blogdramedy writing challenge. If you came here looking for quality content you are decidedly barking up the wrong tree. -Ed.
Hot Dog
by
Tom B. Taker
They thought he always wore his black suit and tie like a good boy. He had perpetuated their errant assumptions.
Sure he had issues. He figured anyone would resent being grown from stem cells in a petri dish. It felt so alien. They thought he was dumb but he knew what they said behind his back.
“Frankendog.”
Things would be made right. After the time warp party he’d unleash a pugnacious creation of his own. Rocky, designed with blonde hair and a tan, who’d been ordered to “stay” on his slab until unbosomed.
Frank ditched the suit and snuggled into his corset and stockings. Dr. Frank-N-Furter would show … them … all.
Blogdramedy’s The Dog Days of Summer writing challenge commands victims participants to author ten stories, ten days in a row, consisting of exactly 110 words each. All stores are themed based on dogs that she has pre-selected. For more information about the challenge and to view the work of other participants, please click the link. But only if you want stories that have real teeth.
Blow My Head Off
Sitting in the restaurant looking over the menu. I stroke my chin meaningfully as I make a choice, possibly for the first time in my life.
“I’ll have the deep fried liver chitlins with the chicken hearts.”
“Excellent choice, sir. And would sauce would you like? Tangy or spicy?”
“Spicy!” Wow. I’m not usually this decisive.
“How spicy? One, two or three?”
Oh shit.
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Frying Off The Handle
Guru enjoys a HAWT cup of coffee fresh from the microwave. (Actor portrayal.) Click for original.
As a man of science, you think I’d be comfortable with a microwave, a device handy for exciting my molecules.
Think again.
I placed my mug of cold coffee in the microwave and closed the door. Using my trusty slide rule I calculated the optimum time. As the seconds ticked down I watched through the meshy window just in case things came to a boil.
Thankfully they did not.
The microwave chirped a friendly beep beep beep so I opened the door and took out the mug. I examined the dark fluid closely.
All seemed well. I stroked my chin thoughtfully. “Hmm,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a flat calm.”
I put the mug on the counter, ensconced the sugar bowl in my loving arms and cued up a teaspoon of sweet heavenly goodness.
As the sugar cascaded into the mug it exploded I was knocked on my ass by a shock wave of exactly 1.21 gigawatts. Covered in burning liquid, I staggered to my feet. Only a crater remained where my mug had been moments before.
I realized I was crying. “Hot water burn baby!!!” I yelled.
Experts later determined the blast was equivalent t .42% of the nuclear device set off my North Korea just last week. So I’m in good company.
Can Do Fire Spirits
I can admire the “can do” spirit. I usually do it from afar. I, of course, am a master practitioner of the “no can do” spirit. You may have seen the fictionalized version of me in the movie Aliens. I’m talking about Pvt. Hudson of the Space Marines portrayed spot on by Bill Paxton.
I’ve long extolled the virtues of negativity. So much so that I’ve achieved guru status.
Today I wish to bring you news of a story you may have missed. It wasn’t exactly the top story of the latest news cycles. But it does offer a rare glimpse into the murky and mysterious world of positive thinking.
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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