Yet one more story
is going to be told,
of 'the Missing Link'
this is when they were old.
The Olive, Kay Jay,
and Sled altogether.
Yes terrible news,
and even bad weather.
Kay Jay hides her friends
in her nuclear zone,
giving the 'Olive' time
to finish his bone.
Sled stocks up
on his brass cymbals,
Kay Jay practices
her growling signals.
At quarter to two
they take over the world,
Olive starts them off
with his tie, that is hurled.
Sled flings his cymbals,
Kay Jay growls to offend.
This does not look good,
could this be the end?
But wait! What's that?
A magical chant?
It's Geraldo Rivera,
he'll rave and he'll rant!
He's turned the tide of this war
with his choice words.
Resurrecting three scientists,
and an army of nerds!
They dodge the cymbals and ties,
and avoid Olive's chin,
even Kay Jay's growls
are no match for them.
The three scientists hold up
a very dead mouse.
They next toss it into
Sled's awful house.
The doors were then bolted,
and all windows covered.
Geraldo's so glad
the scientists were discovered.
Now the nerds are all gone
and the street is quite bare.
But could the trio escape
form their bolted up lair?
(Originally written 1992)
J.A.Scott
Wednesday, December 9, 1992
Sunday, December 8, 1991
The Missing Link - V
You thought it was over,
under the sink.
The funny story,
'The Missing Link'
But not so fast
is the flame to the pen,
some uncontrollable thought
to do it again.
It starts in the back
of the old musty house.
The little old man
holding the mouse.
He started by saying
two weird lines.
Of how he would catch
the mice who were blind.
How he would hide
from the beast called Sled.
Observing the darkness
of the dirty pigs pen.
Of how the cymbal
was just out of reach,
as he watched Geraldo
giving a great long speech.
Listening to the story
about the great vortex.
And relating the smallness
of Sled's cortex.
It finally ended
with his billy-goat beard,
falling into the darkness
he and his two friends feared.
(Originally written 1991)
J.A.Scott
Wednesday, December 5, 1990
The Missing Link - IV
Yes, of dear old days
long forgotten,
comes the story
of breath so rotten.
The Missing Link story
is not quite done.
Here's another way
to have some fun.
We now must talk
of his buckle lovin' friend,
the 'Olive Green Boy'
he will surely offend.
I once met him and
couldn't help but to grin.
He then knocked me down
with his big ol' chin.
Olive Green's chin
defies the laws of physics.
How do you suppose
he gets all of his kicks?
His chin opens up
for all sorts of equipment.
From a drill to a fork
who cares if it's bent?
Inside his long chin
is a most scary sight,
grab your sunglasses
if it gets too bright.
He's more powerful than
fortified men in a tower.
Oh my gosh!
What great power!
An additional assault;
yes, there is one thing more.
A dangerous weapon,
which isn't his snore.
A multi-use tie
when he's on the loose.
A pop-tent, hang-glider,
even a noose.
He's the Olive Green boy,
a victim of Sled.
Don't think you can save him,
he's already dead.
One final thought
don't make fun of his lies,
'cause you'll likely be smothered
in all of his ties.
(Originally written circa 1990)
Co-Written by Tony V.
long forgotten,
comes the story
of breath so rotten.
The Missing Link story
is not quite done.
Here's another way
to have some fun.
We now must talk
of his buckle lovin' friend,
the 'Olive Green Boy'
he will surely offend.
I once met him and
couldn't help but to grin.
He then knocked me down
with his big ol' chin.
Olive Green's chin
defies the laws of physics.
How do you suppose
he gets all of his kicks?
His chin opens up
for all sorts of equipment.
From a drill to a fork
who cares if it's bent?
Inside his long chin
is a most scary sight,
grab your sunglasses
if it gets too bright.
He's more powerful than
fortified men in a tower.
Oh my gosh!
What great power!
An additional assault;
yes, there is one thing more.
A dangerous weapon,
which isn't his snore.
A multi-use tie
when he's on the loose.
A pop-tent, hang-glider,
even a noose.
He's the Olive Green boy,
a victim of Sled.
Don't think you can save him,
he's already dead.
One final thought
don't make fun of his lies,
'cause you'll likely be smothered
in all of his ties.
(Originally written circa 1990)
Co-Written by Tony V.
Tuesday, December 5, 1989
The Missing Link - III
You've read 'Missing Link I'
and 'Missing Link II',
but what about 'Missing Link III'
which describes you know who.
In case you're in doubt
as to whom I may mean,
let me give you a hint,
she will make you scream.
You still do not know.
Is that what you say?
Dummy, it's as easy as pie.
I'm referring to Kay Jay.
She is difficult to track,
as I earlier learnt.
With an ugly ol' face
which must have been burnt.
Donned in pea-green
for a reason unknown.
Perhaps she escaped
from a nuclear zone?
She once met Sled
which was a terrible mistake.
They threw each other around
and started an earthquake.
The Earth was just saved
in the middle of the fight,
when Kay Jay knocked Sled
onto a passing satellite.
Then Kay Jay was captured,
which was the tricky part.
The authorities had to use
a tranquillizer dart.
She awoke with a growl
in the nearest state pen.
But found a way out
and started all over again.
She's still on the loose.
Looking for Sled I think.
So beware of Kay Jay
She's another 'Missing Link'.
(Originally written circa 1989)
J.A.Scott
and 'Missing Link II',
but what about 'Missing Link III'
which describes you know who.
In case you're in doubt
as to whom I may mean,
let me give you a hint,
she will make you scream.
You still do not know.
Is that what you say?
Dummy, it's as easy as pie.
I'm referring to Kay Jay.
She is difficult to track,
as I earlier learnt.
With an ugly ol' face
which must have been burnt.
Donned in pea-green
for a reason unknown.
Perhaps she escaped
from a nuclear zone?
She once met Sled
which was a terrible mistake.
They threw each other around
and started an earthquake.
The Earth was just saved
in the middle of the fight,
when Kay Jay knocked Sled
onto a passing satellite.
Then Kay Jay was captured,
which was the tricky part.
The authorities had to use
a tranquillizer dart.
She awoke with a growl
in the nearest state pen.
But found a way out
and started all over again.
She's still on the loose.
Looking for Sled I think.
So beware of Kay Jay
She's another 'Missing Link'.
(Originally written circa 1989)
J.A.Scott
Saturday, July 29, 1989
07-29-07-06-51-89 06
Dear Katy,
(A slight carry-over from yesterday). I finished the diary I was reading, I'll write about it later in this entry, but first I want to describe the trip home from Mud Lake.
First a little background, as I stated last entry the drinking water was at best - tolerable. And so, a few days beforehand I had purchased several cans of soda and a 32 ounce Werblers Orange. I had drunken all the soda except the aforementioned orange drink. I was saving this for the last day - perhaps on the way home. Anyway, Tony had been bugging me for several days to open the famous orange drink. I kept telling him he wasn't invited to the taste sensation. Now on the last day, I finally gave in to let Tony have some as I opened it. Yet I was getting the first, refreshing, thirst quenching drink. I opened the bottle very carefully. I let the fizz die down. I swished it around to get the feel of elegance, and being very important. I slowly put the bottle top to my mouth. I closed my eyes and felt the sun beating against me. I realized it was a hot day indeed as a drop of sweat ran down my forehead. I loosened up ready for the soda to quench my parched, dry throat. I finally tipped the bottle bottom up and allowed the soda to enter my mouth. I took a whole mouthful, pulled away the bottle, and let it sit in my mouth. But you know what? It was awful, the worst I'd ever tasted. Even Tony turned his nose against it. What a big waste.
I know that episode of the orange soda was long winded and perhaps a little pulled out of proportion, but I had to have something to write about the vacation. Really the only fun came at 'lights out', or when we went to town, and so I'll leave it at that - gives you a real sense of just how much fun we really had. And the trip South wasn't much of anything either. We stopped in Greenbay for lunch but that didn't go anywhere. I wanted to state one more point of the return home. When we had just left Mud Lake I was listening to WYCO - Y108, and was complaining about the station, as I had the whole week. The reason being - the station played a wild and untamed mix of songs at pot-luck. They played maybe 5 songs than 5 minutes of commercials. Anyway, I was now at my limit, the reason being that now I was getting static. Well Ed asked for my headphones as another commercial was being played. I decided whether I should or not. Finally the D.J. made up my mind. He came on and said, "This is WYCO - Y108". And I thought about that. Finally I concluded, "Yes, why 108?" I then turned off my radio and gave the head set over to Ed. I picked up my Anne Frank book and read it practically the whole trip home. I finished the book later the same night. And this morning I took a nice hot shower and cleaned my bedroom and washed my dirty clothes from the trip.
But back to subject of Anne Frank, a fellow writer. I suppose that's why I've always found her so fascinating. And now that I've read her diary, I find myself even more fascinated with her. I guess it’s an admiration. Threw all her troubles she found time to write and be human. She always wanted to be a journalist or writer so she'd "live on after" she died. I guess that's the dream any writer in any form (Including diary writing), wishes. Well, I'm not sure this is what she wanted (HER DIARY BEING PUBLISHED), but at least she lives on. And so, I feel a great urge to read her stories she had written in hiding. I'll let you know what I think of it. But you know it is difficult to really express my thoughts; one must think me crazy for finding such wonderment in someone who has passed away. I feel like informing you later a little more on the subject of my thoughts of someone 'passed away' but I'll not bore you with it now.
And you haven't read the book yet? I suppose I can only tell you what I think of this book. It was a very sad book in whole, but written with warmth. At times romantic and funny, yet the sadness was well woven 'between the lines'. If you haven't read it, I encourage you to; if you have read it I hope you don't disagree with my view of it.
I'll close tonight with words Anne wrote to herself - but fine words any writer must keep in mind during slumps and writing fatigues. Keeping in mind writers must never give in to slumps but keep the creative juices flowing.
"So I go on again with fresh courage; I think I shall succeed, because I want to write."
Yours, Jeff
(A slight carry-over from yesterday). I finished the diary I was reading, I'll write about it later in this entry, but first I want to describe the trip home from Mud Lake.
First a little background, as I stated last entry the drinking water was at best - tolerable. And so, a few days beforehand I had purchased several cans of soda and a 32 ounce Werblers Orange. I had drunken all the soda except the aforementioned orange drink. I was saving this for the last day - perhaps on the way home. Anyway, Tony had been bugging me for several days to open the famous orange drink. I kept telling him he wasn't invited to the taste sensation. Now on the last day, I finally gave in to let Tony have some as I opened it. Yet I was getting the first, refreshing, thirst quenching drink. I opened the bottle very carefully. I let the fizz die down. I swished it around to get the feel of elegance, and being very important. I slowly put the bottle top to my mouth. I closed my eyes and felt the sun beating against me. I realized it was a hot day indeed as a drop of sweat ran down my forehead. I loosened up ready for the soda to quench my parched, dry throat. I finally tipped the bottle bottom up and allowed the soda to enter my mouth. I took a whole mouthful, pulled away the bottle, and let it sit in my mouth. But you know what? It was awful, the worst I'd ever tasted. Even Tony turned his nose against it. What a big waste.
I know that episode of the orange soda was long winded and perhaps a little pulled out of proportion, but I had to have something to write about the vacation. Really the only fun came at 'lights out', or when we went to town, and so I'll leave it at that - gives you a real sense of just how much fun we really had. And the trip South wasn't much of anything either. We stopped in Greenbay for lunch but that didn't go anywhere. I wanted to state one more point of the return home. When we had just left Mud Lake I was listening to WYCO - Y108, and was complaining about the station, as I had the whole week. The reason being - the station played a wild and untamed mix of songs at pot-luck. They played maybe 5 songs than 5 minutes of commercials. Anyway, I was now at my limit, the reason being that now I was getting static. Well Ed asked for my headphones as another commercial was being played. I decided whether I should or not. Finally the D.J. made up my mind. He came on and said, "This is WYCO - Y108". And I thought about that. Finally I concluded, "Yes, why 108?" I then turned off my radio and gave the head set over to Ed. I picked up my Anne Frank book and read it practically the whole trip home. I finished the book later the same night. And this morning I took a nice hot shower and cleaned my bedroom and washed my dirty clothes from the trip.
But back to subject of Anne Frank, a fellow writer. I suppose that's why I've always found her so fascinating. And now that I've read her diary, I find myself even more fascinated with her. I guess it’s an admiration. Threw all her troubles she found time to write and be human. She always wanted to be a journalist or writer so she'd "live on after" she died. I guess that's the dream any writer in any form (Including diary writing), wishes. Well, I'm not sure this is what she wanted (HER DIARY BEING PUBLISHED), but at least she lives on. And so, I feel a great urge to read her stories she had written in hiding. I'll let you know what I think of it. But you know it is difficult to really express my thoughts; one must think me crazy for finding such wonderment in someone who has passed away. I feel like informing you later a little more on the subject of my thoughts of someone 'passed away' but I'll not bore you with it now.
And you haven't read the book yet? I suppose I can only tell you what I think of this book. It was a very sad book in whole, but written with warmth. At times romantic and funny, yet the sadness was well woven 'between the lines'. If you haven't read it, I encourage you to; if you have read it I hope you don't disagree with my view of it.
I'll close tonight with words Anne wrote to herself - but fine words any writer must keep in mind during slumps and writing fatigues. Keeping in mind writers must never give in to slumps but keep the creative juices flowing.
"So I go on again with fresh courage; I think I shall succeed, because I want to write."
Yours, Jeff
Friday, July 28, 1989
07-28-06-08-25-89 05
And so this is the last day our family is suppose to be up at this "fun" vacation. Actually everyone wants to leave and are happy we are leaving a day early. I - well I like it here except I hate this drinking water, fun is limited, to many bugs and not any friends here. I was greatly pleased the other day when it began to rain. Also the day before my father took me to a most excellent fishing spot. Now I'm really not a fisherman but this spot was unbelievable. As soon as our lines hit the lake, we caught something. Ed, however, was getting upset because he either caught small ones or bullheads, ones we didn't want. My father hated touching bullheads, and I hated taking hooks out of fish that had swallowed hooks. At one time when we each caught something we couldn't handle we traded lines and took off the others.
One other way to pass the time here is by reading. I have of recently been engrossed in reading 'The Diary of Anne Frank.' I wasn't as interested in it before I started as I am now. Although I find it hard to say its here own words as it is translated from Dutch and problems often arise when translating word for word. Still it’s basically her words and I find for such a young girl, Anne was very clever. Sort of reminds me of Virginia. The reason being, she is clever, willing to learn, very loquacious, but very self aware and often vain. I wonder what Anne would think of Mtv?
I've drawn similarities between her Diary and my Journals. For example we both write about life and love - and what the future holds out for us. And we both feel lonely and isolated from our true love. I remember one line she stated 'A person can be lonely even if he is loved by many people, because he is still not the "one and only" to anyone.' It seems we are both attached to our writing tools, perhaps Anne for a more personal reason.
Differences? Surely. Because of her situation she isn't afraid of describing such things I feel are best left untouched, after reading her Diary you'll soon see what I mean. And unlike me she writes her entries as talking to a best friend 'Dear Kitty', and closes politely, 'Yours Anne.'
Uncanny how her title, 'Kitty', is close to my, 'Katy'. And I've also noticed how we both write as we are writing to someone. I ask questions and reason and apologize for not writing as she does. Perhaps that is all just second nature when keeping a diary. Oh well, I'll write again as soon as I get in Milwaukee, well maybe not straight away, but I will write. And I hope you don't mind my Diary comparison. There I go again, talking to someone, yet no one.
Yours, Jeff
One other way to pass the time here is by reading. I have of recently been engrossed in reading 'The Diary of Anne Frank.' I wasn't as interested in it before I started as I am now. Although I find it hard to say its here own words as it is translated from Dutch and problems often arise when translating word for word. Still it’s basically her words and I find for such a young girl, Anne was very clever. Sort of reminds me of Virginia. The reason being, she is clever, willing to learn, very loquacious, but very self aware and often vain. I wonder what Anne would think of Mtv?
I've drawn similarities between her Diary and my Journals. For example we both write about life and love - and what the future holds out for us. And we both feel lonely and isolated from our true love. I remember one line she stated 'A person can be lonely even if he is loved by many people, because he is still not the "one and only" to anyone.' It seems we are both attached to our writing tools, perhaps Anne for a more personal reason.
Differences? Surely. Because of her situation she isn't afraid of describing such things I feel are best left untouched, after reading her Diary you'll soon see what I mean. And unlike me she writes her entries as talking to a best friend 'Dear Kitty', and closes politely, 'Yours Anne.'
Uncanny how her title, 'Kitty', is close to my, 'Katy'. And I've also noticed how we both write as we are writing to someone. I ask questions and reason and apologize for not writing as she does. Perhaps that is all just second nature when keeping a diary. Oh well, I'll write again as soon as I get in Milwaukee, well maybe not straight away, but I will write. And I hope you don't mind my Diary comparison. There I go again, talking to someone, yet no one.
Yours, Jeff
Monday, December 5, 1988
The Missing Link - II
The story of 'Sled'
is not over by far.
I forgot to mention
the part about his car.
With cymbal in hand
and pedal to foot,
he races to bars
with a head full of soot.
The scary ex-Lincoln
was once in fine state.
Being totally smashed now
there is no debate.
As 'Sled' pulls up to his house
takes the cymbal from dash,
three boys witness
him smoking his stash.
Says, "Come here", to the boys
with a wicked ol' grin.
His thoughts are not pleasant,
he dreams a big sin.
This brings us to date
with those three scientists.
'Sled' chasing them down
with his cymbal and fists.
This is where the plot thickens
as you may now know,
the scientists are the boys
of ages ago.
Getting killed by 'Sled'
is not what they meant.
This was just to prove
the Missing Link experiment.
As I stated before,
it's time to proceed.
With 'Sled' closing in
he trips on a weed.
Without a thought
they run into his room,
but now fully recovered
'Sled' seals up their tomb.
So their story is finished,
over and done.
'Sled' killed them off
without using a gun.
The moral of the story
is quite evident I think,
never mess with,
'the Missing Link'.
(Originally written circa 1988)
J.A.Scott
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)