Gunfight Poetry Contest! Win up to $50,000 in cash and prizes!
Like I always say, “Why not both?”
Welcome to the first ever Shouts From The Abyss “Gunfight Poetry Contest.” We are giving away up to $50,000 in cash and prizes! (See official rules.)
Feeling lyrical? Have a flair for communicating big ideas using very few words? You might just win it all! (But probably not.)
We’ve all heard the classic phrase “You don’t bring a knife to a gunfight.” The Sick Puppies even turned that bit of frothy pith into a song. That’s the inspiration for this contest.
Jot down a few clever lines and you could walk away with up to $50,000 in cash and prizes. That’s a lot of scratch.
Here’s how it works:
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Spring Niggles
Hi! I’m The Niggle. I solve crimes by eating your brains slowly over an agonizing period of time. Artist rendition.
I am The Niggle
And I’m here to say
I bore in your skull
Every hour of the day
You wanna live your life?
You wanna get away?
I’m gonna stalk you down
I’m gonna make you pay
I’m a patient guy
I got plenty o’ time
No matter how long it takes
I’m gonna own your mind
Introducing my good buddy The Niggle. He’s an ornery rambunctious sort. Invisible and sneaky, at any given moment in time there are literally thousands of him latched on tight, gnawing at our skulls, always desperately trying to get in. Fun stuff, huh?
The Niggle is the price we pay for this modern life. He hangs on dearly when we look around and ask, “What gives? Is this all there is?”
He’s the background highway noise that permeates our fancy homes. A little drill bit of omnipresent pressure that pushes us one step closer to the edge. Our brains may have long since given up and deemed those road sounds as mere “white noise,” but even if we’re no longer conscious of it, it’s always there, chipping away. Chip, chip, chip.
The dictionary describes a niggle as something that causes “slight but persistent annoyance, discomfort, or anxiety.” But, to me, he’s a modern day superhero of goodness and fun.
What other forms does this little devil take? Read on. He might even be working through this very blog post.
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Takin’ a stab at it
Do you believe in love at first sight? The other day while driving my friend to the airport, my ears caught this song on his fancy premium digital radio system. I was like, “What the? This is awesome. Swoon!”
Overcome by emotion I swerved and almost crammed into a concrete barrier.
It was one of those moments where you’re floating along, from moment to moment, and not even realizing it, kind of like a feather floating on a breeze. Then, almost in self defense, your thought bubble suffers an intrusion and you become aware of something. Really aware.
That’s what happened with this song. It reached out and grabbed me. Far too quickly the moment was over so I fiercely committed the name of the musical artist to memory. Sick Puppies. I have got to get me some more of that.
You don’t bring a knife to a gunfight.
Old wisdom we’ve all heard before. The Sick Puppies take such a simple idea and turn it into a transcendental experience. And it’s got a toe-tappin’ beat. The interpretation offered by this video selection is a runaway stagecoach ride of fun.
Enjoy!
#FridayMorningKnifeParty – I memed myself
An online buddy and super cool person likes to have “dance parties” on Twitter. Usually too early in the morning. On a Friday not so long ago, I decided to have a dance party of my own and a new meme was born here in the Abyss.
On The Street Where You Shiv
I suddenly find myself pondering a move to someplace like Islamabad so I feel safer about my neighborhood.
A few weeks ago my street (which is a short one) was mentioned in the local newspaper’s police blotter for break-ins. Then, last weekend, our car was ransacked by, I assume, the local unsupervised miscreants who use our neighborhood as their own personal clubhouse.
Then, a couple nights ago, two of our neighbors (about four houses down) got into a disagreement about kids playing ball. Words were exchanged, they met in the street, and there was a fight that ended up with one of them dead. If I understand the story correctly, a father of three is now in jail facing murder charges.
I guess this proves the old adage, “Never bring your asshole parenting skills to a knife fight.”
Since then traffic on our cul-de-sac street has picked up considerably. There has been a marked increase in cars slowly driving down the street, turning around, then slowly driving out. I assume these are “scene of the crime” lookie-loos.
Suddenly our quiet little neighborhood isn’t so quiet any more.
Anyone know a good Pakistani travel agent?
Shouts from the Abyss 
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