“Redundancy! Redundancy!”

Notice how I said it twice

That is irony

Because the second ‘Redundancy’ is redundant

At least, I think it’s ironic

To be honest, I’m a little fuzzy on the meaning of the term

I once stubbed my toe on a chair that I had moved so that wouldn’t run into it

“Jiminy Cricket!” I yelled

Then I smiled, for it was ironic

Right?

Then another time, I was making dinner for a friend

Then at the last minute the friend called and said, “I can’t make it”

“Deceitful Villain!” I yelled

Then I ate all the food myself

Then I smiled because it was so ironic

Then I stopped smiling

Because

I thought maybe it wasn’t ironic at all

Then I had indigestion

“Flip my gimlets!” I yelled

Then I smiled again

Because

I figured it was probably ironic indigestion

Still I wasn’t sure

I looked it up once

But I still don’t get it

It seems so easy to just sit down and work

Yet I do not do it

I find other things to fill my time

Important things

Like counting my toes

Or following a vein from my finger all the way up my arm

Or looking at a wall

Or walking into a room and forgetting why I’m there

Then leaving the room

Then remembering and entering again

Only to forget and go back

Yes, very important things

But is work really important?

Is my life the sum of my work?

Or is it the sum of my procrastination?

I will figure this out later

Five

Maybe this is the wrong road after all

Sure it’s less traveled, but there might be a reason for that

Unfortunately, the last turn-off was twenty years back

I sit down and look ahead

I see a dot in the distance

The dot gets bigger

Eventually some guy walks past me, old and tired

“I should have turned around when I was your age,” he says

I sit for a while and watch him go by

Then get up

And continue on my way

Sure, it’s a crappy road going nowhere

But now

It’s all mine

There once was a man who had two heads

The one head was larger than the other

So everyone always talked to that head

Unfortunately, that head was an idiot

And only read magazines with celebrities on the cover

Or fast cars

Or mostly-naked women

The smaller head was smarter

And read the Economist

And even got all the way through Moby Dick despite the bigger head making jokes about it

Which were obvious and annoying and not very funny

The smaller head was particularly angry

That everyone thought the big stupid head

Made all the decisions

Which

Of course

It did

I gave myself a lobotomy

I was eating my cereal

Then I had a little spasm

And my arm jerked

And the spoon when up my nose

And scooped out some of my brain

I would have screamed

But my mouth didn’t work

I took out the spoon

And looked at my brain

And, I must say

I wasn’t all that impressed

It’s an historic downtown

You can tell

Because of the sign that says:

Historic Downtown

I’m glad they cleared that up

It has an ice cream store

Fifteen of them in fact

Just like in the time of the pioneers

When, after a hard day of clearing the land of stumps and fighting off cholera

They’d all go for a frozen treat

It also has a shoe store

Twelve of them

Because the pioneers wore out shoes

Very quickly

And were quick to ridicule

Unfashionable footwear

The Historic Downtown also has old spelling

All the stores are called “Shoppes”

Some of them don’t even have modern articles

Like “Ye Olde Shoe and Ice Creame Shoppe”

That is how historic it is

It takes my breath away

It really does

As I lick my ice cream

And take a big bite

Of the shoe

I wonder what happens

To old corduroy

Once it has lost the clear delineation between its lines

In new corduroy the pants make a noise

Zwshhh, zwshhh, zwshhh

For that reason

Ninja’s seldom wear corduroy

And black corduroy is hard to find anyway

But one day the corduroy wears out

Like the liver on an alcoholic

And the zwshhh is no more

And then, really, what’s the point in wearing it

So you throw it out

And it goes to heaven

But I wonder, in corduroy heaven?

Does it zwshhh again?

If it does it would be such a noisy place

That even Ninjas could wear it

I go into the public washroom

There’s only one toilet

There’s a turd in it

I look for the culprit

There is no one around

I flush

The turd does not go down

I no longer blame the one who left it

Now I blame the plumbing

But what to do?

I have never met this other person

Have no idea who he is

His likes and dislikes

His loves and lusts

And now parts of us

Or at least parts of things that have been through us

Were to join in that little puddle

Is that right?

But sometimes you are forced to act

I have no choice

Pants down, package delivered

I flush

Nothing happens but a swirl

An obscene blending, a terrible collage

I re-pant and go to the sink

As I rinse my hands, someone enters

He looks in the toilet

He looks at me

“It’s the plumbing,” I say

Arrrgh!  I’m a pirate, I want yer booty!

And, I don’t mean ‘ass’ when I say ‘booty’

Even though I understand it can mean that nowadays in the hip-hop culture

Or at least it did

I am a little behind the times

Arrgh! I want yer ass!

Sorry about that, I meant to say ‘booty’

But now all I can think about is ass

I am very easily distracted

I think that’s why I got into piracy in the first place

It wasn’t that I wasn’t smart, it’s just that I had a hard time staying still in class

So I dropped out of school early

And after a few years in some other professions

Like brigand, gypsy, and yoga instructor

I applied for an entry-level position at a local job fair

And ended up working for the scurvy dog blood-handed William McBastard

My first duty was to organize his sock drawer

Which was easy, for he had a peg leg

Then I taught his parrot English as a Second Language

It’s first language was Belgian

It never did get rid of the accent

Still, all in all, Mr. McBastard was impressed

And soon I was promoted to expendable crewmember

In which capacity I am here now

And that is why I am saying to you

Arghhh! I’m a pirate

Hand me yer ass!

Sorry

I did it again

You do have a nice ass

Whatever happed to that guy on that show?

You know, that funny guy… looked kind of regular

He played the befuddled father

Or was it the wacky neighbour?

Or maybe the prostitute with the heart of gold?

No… I don’t think that was it

You know the guy I’m talking about

He was everywhere

For a year

Then he did dinner theatre

I think he played here

In some British farce

It was called “We’re Repressed British People Up to Something Naughty”

Or something like that

I didn’t go to see it though

I’m not into culture