Nezza Hella Sydney. The Day After

Posted on December 27, 2012. Filed under: Nezza at Hella | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , |

This is my entry into the Holiday Hall of Fame for Enduring Seasonal Poetry.

‘Twas the night before, and all through the house No creature was stirring save me and my mouse As over the internet we’d scroll and click, Wondrin’ if Nezza would be our Saint Nick.  Little ones everywhere snug in their beds While x-Boxes and Wii’s just messed with their heads.  Walmart and Target this Yule season will close As “ka-chings” go silent, as if to doze.

‘Tis the day of, and (groan) everywhere strewn, Bows, paper, and boxes all about the room.  From decorative gifts to (happy?) surprise Those packages morph right before one’s eyes.  But, my RED LOBSTER stocking (with care by Mantle hung), holds only  the sound of a sigh (The one that I breathed into its hollow depth) ‘Cause Nezza, Sydney, her silence has kept.

Last post put up by this master of fun Assessed  her utility as “tits on a nun.”  Trapped with a loud, pacing boor so nauseous Her “ninja kick” quelled his tone so raucous.  Oft’ this minstrel of mornings besotted Wrote of a lost night while totally blotted.  Tinker-Bell she is not, so much more like Pan —  Audacious, impish, spawn of Never-Land.

Distressingly dark Nezza’s blog has gone, Barely can I read her old postings on “home.”  Nothing much is new but an update on porn…  (at times she DOES get kinda raw in scorn it would seem, of social modesty feigned)  …And a note of rescue from finances strained.  From out those coffers of impertinent truth, Will “tits on a nun” be her last, forsooth?

If you don’t like this composition, tough titty…   Oops!  Sorry.  Got carried away there.  But, it’s probably okay since I am certain of only 3 persons who have ever read this thing:  myself (reading my own words is just as rewarding as hearing the sound of my own voice), and 2 readers who actually commented in real-time on what they read.  And, yesssss, Nezza was one of those.  (Can’t count the more that 1,000 spam-like comments that WordPress had filtered out for me, even though I allowed some of those back-links to adorn my home page.  Just trying to be a good neighbor in the genre.  Some questionable product  ads did get through, but, I am going to go back and delete them.  Promise.)

On the flip side IF YOU DO LIKE IT, check into one of those crisis centers immediately.  They can help restore your bio-chemical balances and return you to a full and productive life in mainstream society.

Next up:  The day after the day after the day after…

Article references:  Nezza, Hella, Sydney, hellasydney, porn, crisis center, Red Lobster, Tinker-Bell, Never-land, Pan

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Mercury, The Winged One

Posted on March 8, 2012. Filed under: Humor, Mythology | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

(Roman god of commerce and rhetoric)

I’m not going to blather on about him just yet.  I only stuck his name up there ’cause he got lots better press than his Greek cousin, Hermes.  But, trust me, Hermes is where all the action was.

Maybe I sold the a-musing chicks in the previous posting a little short, because Mercury (the planet) has been orbiting around in my mind all night while I tried to think up something fairly trite to go on about in this post.  (With just a little effort, I could have made that sentence a bit longer.)  I guess, maybe, Urania the misfit, figuring I would pick up on the Mercury-Hermes connection, just wanted to get her brother a little press…   Oooh, yeah!  Her brother.

Ah, those Greek gods were really into that procreation thing.  This time around, that old dog…   uh, god…   Zeus hooked up with Maia (I’m not one to start rumors, but, I’ve heard she was a Pleiad) and their dalliance culminated in the form of Hermes, the common man’s god for all seasons.

Commerce and trade, in those ancient times, was exemplified by the farm industry, so Hermes first godly gig was to watch out for herds of cattle and sheep.  “The sixth sheik’s sixth sheep was sick” was a verbal sobriety test he gave to lonely, stoned shepherds out in the pastures.  He did not tolerate drunk (herd) driving.  Bad for commerce, you know.

Those ancient pastures were really dark when there was no full moon.  Where the woodlands started, that’s where you could find the satyr-like Pan chasing after a whole slew of nymphs…   chicks in today’s parlance.  Hermes was a strapping young god, and he liked hanging out with this crowd.  After all, like father, like son.

In connection with the commerce and trade thing, Hermes also got the post of commissioner…  make that diety…  of roads and doorways. We all read the news these days, and we know what kind of off-the-book perks this gig offers.  Did Hermes indulge himself?

Next up: Wealth:  Hermes was not concerned with the “how”

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