wurklife of buddy don: how that new jobs a'goin

i reckun innybidy that reads this here blog reglar lack knows how i dun tuck a job earlier this munth. i jes wonted to let ye know that tiz a grate job with a fine bunch of folk n tiz a'doon sumthin i bleeve in cumpletely name of 'knowledge management,' witch everbidy knows bout how it needs to be managed, speshly fer a help desk.

tuther half of that new job is how tiz a lot of wurk n leaves less time fer ritin this here blog. besides that, tiz a longer commute. finely, twill take me on a trip to ohio to visit our hep desk. twood be nice ifn i could visit a verr speshul person that lives thar, but i wont git no chants on a count travelin with my new boss n not havin no car of my own n only bein thar frum windsdy evenin till fridy afternoon.

so ifn i caint blog durin that time, ye will alreddy know the reason why.

meanwhile, today we are havin whut they lacks to call a 'off-site' thats a'goin on all day long. thang bout this off-site is how it will take place in a confernts room that aint a city block frum my desk.

i hope all yall is doin grate this fine day!

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acksidents of buddy don: oh no! the camra!

over the weekend i had a lil acksident that rilly hurt: we wuz a'gittin reddy to go out fer dinner with all three of the kids n thar partners n sum relativs visitin frum the czech republick when i notissd i needed to feed the fish ere we left. i had the camra on n spillt the fish food. so i putt the camra down on a tabull n gut reddy to clean up the spillt food when i herd a crash ye dont never wonta here, witch thats the sound made by the camra hittin the groun. hard. hard a nuff that thangs wuz broke n aint no thang on that camra that dont cost ye a purty penny.

we spent the furst part of the day yesterdy visitin b&h n gittin thangs fixed agin, witch the flash wuz killt ded ceptin thays a chants of reepair. the rest of the camra wuz a lil slow to git a'goin, but once it gut good n reebooted, it seems to be a'wurkin agin. twuz a bit of verr good luck that the lens dint git shatterd or broke no way.

by the way, the meal wuz on saturdy nite at vatan n twuz a verr nice evenin. me n miz bd wuz touched by how them kids had dun made thar own plans fer whut to do after eatin. we lack how they all git along so well ...

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pomes of buddy don: What Happens?

What Happens?

The sun each instant sends us energy
That can be captured best by chlorophyl –
Instead of being lost through entropy –
It’s stored as sugars, earth’s needs to fulfill.

The sun’s free energy is tightly bound
In cells that multiply, in plants that grow,
And die only to build up fertile ground
As eons upon eons slowly flow.

What happens then when in a century –
A brief time in the history of earth –
We humans tap into the energy
That has been building since our planet’s birth?

Our atmosphere is flooded with the store
Of all the CO2 captured before.

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pomes of buddy don: What He Cannot Know

What He Cannot Know

We’re supposed to believe his predictions –
Although they’re consistently incorrect
Involving obvious contradictions
Between claims we aren’t supposed to connect.

For he was the one who claimed we would find
Such weapons of mass destruction that we
Could not sleep at night, have no peace of mind,
Till we had turned them into useless debris.

And have we forgotten his famous claim
That we would soon capture, dead or alive,
The al qaeda leader of nine one one fame,
Who uses Iraq to help his group thrive?

So why should we buy what he cannot know
When he claims they’ll follow us home if we go?

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: street fair

tuther day me n miz bd gut ourself stuck in a street fair, witch thays a minny of em up in here, mosly all the same kinda thang. whilst miz bd wuz shoppin, i wuz shootin frum the hip n gut a few shots of the fair n foul n hungry n hatted ...









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pitchers tuck by buddy don: a garden ye never git tired of

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pomes of buddy don: A Very Simple Man

A Very Simple Man

He is a very simple man who thinks
In starkly childlike terms of either/or –
Who could debase the puzzles of the Sphinx
To parodies of what they were before.

His battle then is not for hearts and minds –
For all to him are either good or bad –
From nuance and complexities he blinds
Himself to sidestep what would drive him mad.

For how could he be sure no matter what
That everything he did was just and good
If he were ever forced to give his thought
To quand’ries that cannot be understood?

Such hubris is the classic tragic flaw –
As is attacking bad men made of straw.

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: weekend plans

i am a'hopin that this weekend me n miz bd kin git the kinda pitcher of them sacred lotus blossoms we been a'trine to git fer a cuple years since i tuck a pitcher that has been used a cuple times as a stock foto. we wint a cuple weeks ago n seen how thar a'gittin reddy ...


as ye kin see, them yaller blossoms is dun alreddy thar, but the magick fer us is in the charles thomas with the pink blooms. taint that them yallers is innythang but purty, jes that we lack them pinkuns ...


nuther thang we hope to do is to git over to jessicas place sos we kin git a pitcher of the weddin dress, witch she n paddy is a'gittin marrd in september over in ireland ... n we kin hardly wait fer it!

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pomes of buddy don: Who cares what he does?

Who cares what he does, he makes no mistakes
Let’s make no mistake about that, OK?
It’s such hard work with a lot of bad breaks –
He can’t be blamed for anarchic delay!

So who cares what happened? He’s not to blame –
At least he would never admit it to us –
It could be Shinseki, Pace or what’s-his-name –
It’s soon to be David Petraeus!

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: everone tells a lil story

walkin in sunshine ...


look, up in the sky, tiz a bird ... a plane ...


a new amurkin gothick ...


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pitchers tuck by buddy don: calm

this here pitchers one i tuck last fridy at the bbg. tiz one that seems to me to be the verr essence of calm ...



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pomes of buddy don: Our Ally

Our Ally

Bush once proclaimed for all the world to hear
That every nation had a choice to make:
Those who stood with us would have no fear
While those who did not would rue their mistake

The central front, he claimed, would be Iraq
Where our brave soldier targets are quagmired –
(We can’t escape till Bush runs out the clock
So we’ll be there until his term's expired.)

Yet Pakistan’s al qaeda is revived –
Since nine eleven it’s not been so strong –
Our lust to get Osama was short-lived
While his to terrorize us has gone long.

The terrorists now rule Waziristan!
Harbored by someone's ally, Pakistan.

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pomes of buddy don: Collaterally Damaged

Collaterally Damaged

Collaterally damaged I’m as dead
As if I had been murdered in cold blood –
As if a terrorist chopped off my head –
As if the mine I stepped on was no dud.

Collaterally damaged I leave friends,
My co-workers, my family behind
To question why and how and to what ends
My dying innocent should be defined.

Collaterally damaged I’m a cause
For anger and a longing for revenge
Against those whose war plans were filled with flaws
As they pursued their own wrongs to avenge.

Is there an end that such death justifies?
Perhaps, but not in wars begun by lies.

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pomes of buddy don: The Arguments of Hate

The Arguments of Hate

Terrorism is a mental illness
That travels as disease among mankind,
Infecting souls in movement and in stillness
With arguments that linger in the mind.

It thrives where mass resistance is brought low
By policies and actions that debase
An oppressed people who want quid pro quo
Against a greater force they can’t erase.

In such a people arguments resound
That power must by evil be addressed,
That violation of their holy ground
Legitimize the acts of terrorists.

No army on earth could inoculate
A land against the arguments of hate.

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: fun in the summertime

today i start my new job, witch i hope i lack it as much as this feller lacks his job ...





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reeports of buddy don: up date on the tank

sum of ye that reads this here blog reglar knows me n miz bd gut us a tank of fish n other critters. i aint reeported much on it lately, so heres a lil update of whuts been happenin.

furst, them crawdads has been multiplyin lack nobidys bizzness. thays at lease 8 liluns, witch thar almos impossibull to git into a pitcher on a counta they keep alive by hidin mos all the time.

secunt, it appears that thays more on the way.

nuther innterestin thang is how killer (the big crawdad with the brite blue claws) went fer weeks after the furst liluns wuz born without hardly movin nor nuthin, even tho he wudnt moltin. then he run into one of his own liluns n ever since hes been all over the tank, kindly lack he wuz a'lookin fer a fite with one of em. thar too smart to git too close.

but that dont mean thar too smart to keep away frum them cichlids. tuther mornin we woke up n seen a big fish that look lack it had sumthin verr rong with its mouth (more on that problem in a mint). turnt out to be the last bits of the tail of one of them crawdads. caint say fer shore ifn twuz a live one or maybe the molt of one that had dun lef its shell behind.

finely thay wuz a big ole fite in the tank twixt big red, who hes been the big fish of the tank fer nigh onto a year, n bluemouth, a yunger fish that had growd up so big that it could challenge red. thang wuz, they gut into a face to face, mouth to mouth fite, n bluemouth cum out with a verr disfiggerd face while red cum out with a bit of clown mouth (a white circle round the mouth). they gut to ailin till finely bofem died of thar wounds on the verr same day. me n miz bd hadnt never seen nunthin lack that happen befor.

corse, as ye mite eggspeck, thays a new big fish thats makin sum of the lilns hide ...

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celebrayshuns of buddy don: vaclavs birthdy ... n our cuntrys too

yesterdy we had us a grate time over at ellens stardust diner, witch thats a diner on broadway that feetchurs sangin waitstaff. turns out thays only one broadway musickull up at present that dont have a former waitstaffer frum ellens.

we wuz thar sos we could celebrate the birthdy of vaclav, witch hes frum the czech republick. ifn the laws pertected everbidy the same in this cuntry, vaclav wood lackly be a amurkin by now ceptn we dont give the same rights to gay folks that everbidy else gits (he n jack have dun been together fer at lease 7 years).

but hes as amurkin as amurka will let im be so we had us a grate time. also joinin us wuz jacks sister loretta, her intended paddy n my yungster name of tony. ifn yer ever up to visit man hattan, ye mite wonta visit ellens stardust diner. the sangin is grate n the food we had wuz jes fine.

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: independents day

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pomes of buddy don: The Rule of Law

The Rule of Law is obviously not
Their cup of tea since they believe they are
Past paying for their crimes if they are caught –
Besides their crime involved not one cigar.

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pitchers tuck by buddy don: the dyke march

tuther day me n miz bd run into the new york city dyke march, witch tiz one of the acktivities of pride munth. since we wuz cummin home frum a visit to bof the bronx zoo n the new york botanickull garden (thar right close to each other), we wuz bofus wore plum out, so whenever we run into this years new york city dyke march, i dint hardly git no pitcher wurth seein ceptn fer thisn, witch it shows ye how folks wuz havin em a real good time ...



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