Candy Rant

"I killed a rat with a stick once."

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Short Creepy Halloween Love Story

"Toady," depressed over the comments on his looks, went out to our backyard to ponder his miserable life.

He ran into Lizzie.

It was love at first sight. Almost. Lizzie put him on her special desiccation diet. And now they are a couple. In my opinion, they are the perfect Halloween couple.

To celebrate their new cozy, morbid, interspecies romance, here is an anonymous poem I found in a textbook.
The poem is about a frog, not a toad, but that's close enough.

The Frog

What a wonderful bird the frog are!
When he stand he sit almost;
When he hop he fly almost.
He ain't got no sense hardly;
He ain't got no tail hardly either.
When he sit, he sit on what he ain't got almost.

Toady, especially, ain't got much to sit on now.


  • At 11:51 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Do you have anything in haiku?

  • At 12:00 AM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    Toady is skinny
    Way past Karen Carpenter
    But he has found love.

  • At 6:54 AM, Blogger prairie biker said…

    If you dry them out and put them on display ...

    ... people will come.

  • At 8:36 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Lizzie and Toady
    Sad that they'll never have an
    Affair of the Flesh

  • At 9:17 AM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    Scott, we need to start a theme park of dead things in the back yard. PB says people will come. This will be the way I can make money after I quit teaching.

    Oh, and quit writin' romantic stuff when I'm at work and can't do nothin about it.

  • At 9:44 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Okay, we can set it up out on the West 40. Visitors can come in through the RV gate, and Hankie can collect admission.

  • At 11:38 AM, Blogger Unknown said…

    I absolutely love that poem.

  • At 11:47 AM, Blogger Citlali said…

    Yes!! Brilliant. Prairie Biker's right -- people are WAY more morbid than they normally admit. They'll come... = ]

  • At 2:02 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Toady on the Throne

    Green with amber bulging eyes,
    Reigning oer’ his green demise,
    His crawly subjects bowed
    His unrelenting stare.

    “Oh goodness me,” the spider said
    And bustled quickly past
    This Dread centurion.

    His aspect not one smidgen changed
    This verdant sentinel’s solemn brow
    Betrayed no hint of his intent
    No hint of his disdain.

    Scurrying toward his silver home
    The spider halted his advance
    For one last stolen, furtive glance
    Too late to see his end

    The garden’s sentient guardian stood
    Unmoving, motionless and still
    A tribute to his royal will

    The garden people bowed before
    The monarch
    Of all greenery
    This world of dancing buggery;
    And hurried home

  • At 2:31 PM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    Cool poem! Dang, this here place is all literary and stuff today!

    Scott, we will need a change belt for Hankie.

    Mel, I know. Isn't that poem great. I never can remember what it says, and then I go back and read it again and laugh again like a maniac.

  • At 2:32 PM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    Citlali, Prairie Biker knows all kinds of cool morbid stuff, too.

  • At 5:44 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Why do we need another change belt? Cain't he use yers while yer sleepin' all day?

  • At 5:52 PM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    When you come home tonight? Just ignore the sound of the chainsaw starting up.

  • At 7:23 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Uh, I got a meeting. A really, really late meeting.

    In Botswana.

  • At 7:26 PM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    I know people in Botswana.

  • At 12:32 AM, Blogger Candy Rant said…

    Hey Anonymous...where'd that poem come from??? I can't even google it!

  • At 5:51 AM, Blogger Jerry said…

    I wrote it while riding on a train through Botswana.

    "The people are the frog and the frog are the people."
    Udali Macubire

  • At 7:21 AM, Blogger prairie biker said…

    I gotta clarify. I think I misspelled something there.

    Oh yeah, "cum".


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