A few days before we left for South Carolina, some guys from the high school ranks of Faith Church invited me out to Starbucks for a time of hangout. I got free drinks and free books, and we just had a general all-round good time. Except for one episode.
For some reason the conversation turned to the amazing short action flicks put out by BMW (www.bmwfilms.com), and in the face of the champion movie guru of east Gainesville (one Graham Rowan, whose blog is here), I claimed that Jason Statham, of The Transporter fame, had starred in them. Graham correctly contended that Clive Owen of *cough* King Arthur fame had instead.
We made a bet, against everyone's kindly advice to me. We bet that the loser would have to write a "self-deprecating limerick," and that it would be blogged reciprocally, so that both our readerships would see the shame of the loser.
Well...I couldn't pull off a limerick. The poem below may look more impressive, but like the haiku, the limerick is a short form that is difficult to write well in. I couldn't hack it. Hopefully Graham will consider the loser's duty fulfilled.
He Watches Short Shorts
(The Tall Man Layed Low By Short Films)
If a chicken and duck had sat down and ate,
And talked about breadcrumbs and weather, and all,
But settled on the question of how to migrate,
The chicken's opinion would be thought very small.
If you find yourself sitting outside, drinking joe,
With a film buff of citywide fame and repute,
And talk turns from Augustine's concept of soul
To which actor starred in that Brit action shoot,
Behoove you it would to keep your mouth closed.
The last thing you'd do, if at all you were wise,
Would be place a bet, since you'd likely get hosed
And taught a hard lesson by more knowledgeable guys.
A chicken knows less than a duck of migration,
And roosters will always know more about crowing.
But the fool will step beyond his due station,
And challenge the sage in his tower of knowing.
For some reason the conversation turned to the amazing short action flicks put out by BMW (www.bmwfilms.com), and in the face of the champion movie guru of east Gainesville (one Graham Rowan, whose blog is here), I claimed that Jason Statham, of The Transporter fame, had starred in them. Graham correctly contended that Clive Owen of *cough* King Arthur fame had instead.
We made a bet, against everyone's kindly advice to me. We bet that the loser would have to write a "self-deprecating limerick," and that it would be blogged reciprocally, so that both our readerships would see the shame of the loser.
Well...I couldn't pull off a limerick. The poem below may look more impressive, but like the haiku, the limerick is a short form that is difficult to write well in. I couldn't hack it. Hopefully Graham will consider the loser's duty fulfilled.
He Watches Short Shorts
(The Tall Man Layed Low By Short Films)
If a chicken and duck had sat down and ate,
And talked about breadcrumbs and weather, and all,
But settled on the question of how to migrate,
The chicken's opinion would be thought very small.
If you find yourself sitting outside, drinking joe,
With a film buff of citywide fame and repute,
And talk turns from Augustine's concept of soul
To which actor starred in that Brit action shoot,
Behoove you it would to keep your mouth closed.
The last thing you'd do, if at all you were wise,
Would be place a bet, since you'd likely get hosed
And taught a hard lesson by more knowledgeable guys.
A chicken knows less than a duck of migration,
And roosters will always know more about crowing.
But the fool will step beyond his due station,
And challenge the sage in his tower of knowing.
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