-
If you would like to get your account Verified, read this thread -
Check out Tickling.com - the most innovative tickling site of the year. -
The TMF is sponsored by Clips4sale - By supporting them, you're supporting us. -
>>> If you cannot get into your account email me at [email protected] <<<
Don't forget to include your username
Are you suffering in silence?
- Thread starter Moses25
- Start date
I'll let one of my greatest heroes answer that question for me. Cheers, Hank. Rest in peace.
The Shoelace
by Charles Bukowski (1920-1994)
a woman. a tire that's flat, a disease, a desire;
fears in front of you,
fears that hold so still
you can study them
like pieces on a chessboard..
it's not the large things that send a man to the madhouse.
death he's ready for, or murder, incest, robbery, fire, flood. . .
no it's the continuing series of small tragedies
that send a man to the madhouse. . .
not the death of his love
but a shoelace that snaps
with no time left. . .
the dread of life
is that swarm of trivialities
that can kill quicker than cancer
and which are always there
license plates or taxes
or expired driver's license,
or hiring or firing,
doing it or having it done to you, or constipation
speeding tickets
rickets or crikets or mice or termites or roaches or flies
or a broken hook on a screen, or out of gas
or too much gas,
the sink's stopped-up, the landlord's drunk,
the president doesn't care and the governor's crazy.
lightswitch broken, mattress like a porcupine;
$105 for a tune up,
carburetor and fuel pump at Sears Roebuck;
and the telephone bill's up and the market's down
and the toilet chain is broken,
and the light has burned out-
the hall light, the front light, the back light,
the inner light; it's darker than hell
and twice as expensive.
then there's always crabs and ingrown toenails
and people who insist they're your friends;
there's always that and worse;
leaky faucet, Christ and Christmas;
blue salami, 9 day rains, 50 cent avocados
and purple liverwurst.
or making it as a waitress at Norms's on the split shift,
or as emptier of bedpans,
or as a carwash or a busboy
or a stealer of old lady's purses
leaving them screaming on the sidewalks
with broken arms at the age of 80.
suddenly 2 red lights in your rear view mirror
and blood in your underwear;
toothache, and $979 for a bridge
$300 for a gold tooth,
and China and Russia and America,
and long hair and short hair and no hair;
and beards and no faces, plenty of zigzag but no pot,
except maybe one to piss in and the other one around your gut.
with each broken shoelace
out of one hundred broken shoelaces,
one man, one woman, one thing
enter a madhouse.
so be careful when you bend over.
The Shoelace
by Charles Bukowski (1920-1994)
a woman. a tire that's flat, a disease, a desire;
fears in front of you,
fears that hold so still
you can study them
like pieces on a chessboard..
it's not the large things that send a man to the madhouse.
death he's ready for, or murder, incest, robbery, fire, flood. . .
no it's the continuing series of small tragedies
that send a man to the madhouse. . .
not the death of his love
but a shoelace that snaps
with no time left. . .
the dread of life
is that swarm of trivialities
that can kill quicker than cancer
and which are always there
license plates or taxes
or expired driver's license,
or hiring or firing,
doing it or having it done to you, or constipation
speeding tickets
rickets or crikets or mice or termites or roaches or flies
or a broken hook on a screen, or out of gas
or too much gas,
the sink's stopped-up, the landlord's drunk,
the president doesn't care and the governor's crazy.
lightswitch broken, mattress like a porcupine;
$105 for a tune up,
carburetor and fuel pump at Sears Roebuck;
and the telephone bill's up and the market's down
and the toilet chain is broken,
and the light has burned out-
the hall light, the front light, the back light,
the inner light; it's darker than hell
and twice as expensive.
then there's always crabs and ingrown toenails
and people who insist they're your friends;
there's always that and worse;
leaky faucet, Christ and Christmas;
blue salami, 9 day rains, 50 cent avocados
and purple liverwurst.
or making it as a waitress at Norms's on the split shift,
or as emptier of bedpans,
or as a carwash or a busboy
or a stealer of old lady's purses
leaving them screaming on the sidewalks
with broken arms at the age of 80.
suddenly 2 red lights in your rear view mirror
and blood in your underwear;
toothache, and $979 for a bridge
$300 for a gold tooth,
and China and Russia and America,
and long hair and short hair and no hair;
and beards and no faces, plenty of zigzag but no pot,
except maybe one to piss in and the other one around your gut.
with each broken shoelace
out of one hundred broken shoelaces,
one man, one woman, one thing
enter a madhouse.
so be careful when you bend over.
Also, there's some other things that get me riled, brilliantly listed by the wonderful band Knorkator.
<TABLE width="100%" border="0">
<TR>
<TD align="left">
Es Kotzt Mich An
(OV in German)
Es kotzt mich an, wenn ich im Supermarkt
Die Sachen umgefüllt
Und jetzt der Pudding unten liegt
Und alles aus dem Beutel quillt
Es kotzt mich an, wenn Espandrillos
Nach dem ersten Regenguss
So aussehen wie ein Sack voll Scheiße,
Und ich sie wegschmeißen muß
Es kotzt mich an, wenn auf dem Radweg
Plötzlich Hundescheiße liegt
Und weil mein Rad kein Schutzblech hat
Mir alles auf den Rücken fliegt
Es kotzt mich an
Es kotzt mich an
Es kotzt mich maximal an
Es kotzt mich an, wenn Kinder stürmen
In den Bus mit viel Geschrei
Und plötzlich stinkt es so nach Scheiße
Brot, Kakao und Haferbrei
Es kotzt mich an, wenn mir die Stulle
Runterfällt, es kotzt mich an
Wenn ich ´ne Morgenlatte hab
Und nicht ins Becken zielen kann
Es kotzt mich an, wenn es beim Scheißen
Am Sack ´nen Streifen gibt
Weil meine Wurscht zu lang ist, unten
aufkommt und nach vorne kippt
Es kotzt mich an ...
Es kotzt mich an, wenn ich im Auto zu dicht
An der Ampel steh
Und meinen Kopf nach unten biegen muß
Damit ich etwas seh
Es kotzt mich an, wenn das Stück Butter
Über Nacht im Kühlschrank steht
Und wenn ich morgens meine Schrippe
Schmieren will , es nicht geht
Es kotzt mich an, wenn eine Zeitung
Viel zu groß ist um sie in
Der Bahn zu lesen und ich weiß nicht
Mit dem ganzen Scheiß wohin
Es kotzt mich an ...
</TD>
<TD align="right">
It Pisses Me Off
(My translation)
It pisses me off, when in the Supermarket
I just bagged my things
And now the pudding's bottommost
And everything oozes through the bag
It pisses me off, when Espandrillos
After the first downpour of rain
Look like a sack of shit
And I have to throw them away
It pisses me off, when on the road
There's suddenly dog shit
And since my bicycle has no rear protector
It's thrown on my back
It pisses me off
It pisses me off
It totally pisses me off
It pisses me off when kids are rushing
Onto the bus with lots of screaming
And suddenly it reeks of shit
Bread, cocoa and oatmeal
It pisses me off when my sandwich
Drops to the floor, it pisses me off
When I have morning wood
And can't aim for the bowl
It pisses me off, when on the crapper
A skidmark is left on my scrotum
Because the floater is too long, hits bottom
and falls forward
It pisses me off ...
It pisses me off, when in my car, I am too close
To the traffic light
And I have to bend my head down
To see it change
It pisses me off, when the piece of butter
Was in the fridge over night
And when I want to fix my breakfast roll
It's too hard to be spread
It pisses me off, when my newspaper
Is much too large to read it in
The tram and I don't know
Where to put all that shit
It pisses me off ...
</TD>
</TR>
</TABLE>
(It rhymes in the original version, by the way...)
<TABLE width="100%" border="0">
<TR>
<TD align="left">
Es Kotzt Mich An
(OV in German)
Es kotzt mich an, wenn ich im Supermarkt
Die Sachen umgefüllt
Und jetzt der Pudding unten liegt
Und alles aus dem Beutel quillt
Es kotzt mich an, wenn Espandrillos
Nach dem ersten Regenguss
So aussehen wie ein Sack voll Scheiße,
Und ich sie wegschmeißen muß
Es kotzt mich an, wenn auf dem Radweg
Plötzlich Hundescheiße liegt
Und weil mein Rad kein Schutzblech hat
Mir alles auf den Rücken fliegt
Es kotzt mich an
Es kotzt mich an
Es kotzt mich maximal an
Es kotzt mich an, wenn Kinder stürmen
In den Bus mit viel Geschrei
Und plötzlich stinkt es so nach Scheiße
Brot, Kakao und Haferbrei
Es kotzt mich an, wenn mir die Stulle
Runterfällt, es kotzt mich an
Wenn ich ´ne Morgenlatte hab
Und nicht ins Becken zielen kann
Es kotzt mich an, wenn es beim Scheißen
Am Sack ´nen Streifen gibt
Weil meine Wurscht zu lang ist, unten
aufkommt und nach vorne kippt
Es kotzt mich an ...
Es kotzt mich an, wenn ich im Auto zu dicht
An der Ampel steh
Und meinen Kopf nach unten biegen muß
Damit ich etwas seh
Es kotzt mich an, wenn das Stück Butter
Über Nacht im Kühlschrank steht
Und wenn ich morgens meine Schrippe
Schmieren will , es nicht geht
Es kotzt mich an, wenn eine Zeitung
Viel zu groß ist um sie in
Der Bahn zu lesen und ich weiß nicht
Mit dem ganzen Scheiß wohin
Es kotzt mich an ...
</TD>
<TD align="right">
It Pisses Me Off
(My translation)
It pisses me off, when in the Supermarket
I just bagged my things
And now the pudding's bottommost
And everything oozes through the bag
It pisses me off, when Espandrillos
After the first downpour of rain
Look like a sack of shit
And I have to throw them away
It pisses me off, when on the road
There's suddenly dog shit
And since my bicycle has no rear protector
It's thrown on my back
It pisses me off
It pisses me off
It totally pisses me off
It pisses me off when kids are rushing
Onto the bus with lots of screaming
And suddenly it reeks of shit
Bread, cocoa and oatmeal
It pisses me off when my sandwich
Drops to the floor, it pisses me off
When I have morning wood
And can't aim for the bowl
It pisses me off, when on the crapper
A skidmark is left on my scrotum
Because the floater is too long, hits bottom
and falls forward
It pisses me off ...
It pisses me off, when in my car, I am too close
To the traffic light
And I have to bend my head down
To see it change
It pisses me off, when the piece of butter
Was in the fridge over night
And when I want to fix my breakfast roll
It's too hard to be spread
It pisses me off, when my newspaper
Is much too large to read it in
The tram and I don't know
Where to put all that shit
It pisses me off ...
</TD>
</TR>
</TABLE>
(It rhymes in the original version, by the way...)
amk714
Level of Blueberry Feather
- Joined
- Aug 23, 2002
- Messages
- 14,643
- Points
- 0
Lots of things tick me off. In particular, people who are hypocrites. Sure, all of us are hypocritical at one time or another, but I'm talking about those who are that way all the time. They always preach one thing but do the opposite. I hate them! 😡
amk714
Level of Blueberry Feather
- Joined
- Aug 23, 2002
- Messages
- 14,643
- Points
- 0
Re: I'll tell you what pisses me off...
That sucks, Krokus. I started hating AT&T when the company started using Carrot Top, that crazy dude in the 1-800-CALL-ATT commercials. He sucks, too. Alyssa Milano, now that's what I call a spokesperson! 😛
That sucks, Krokus. I started hating AT&T when the company started using Carrot Top, that crazy dude in the 1-800-CALL-ATT commercials. He sucks, too. Alyssa Milano, now that's what I call a spokesperson! 😛
amk714
Level of Blueberry Feather
- Joined
- Aug 23, 2002
- Messages
- 14,643
- Points
- 0
Re: Congrats AMK!!!!
Thanks, Moses, but I actually got #1000 in the thread about tickling, religion, and evil. It's the one where I talk about music--off-topic, I know, but that's how I got 1000 posts so quickly! 😛
Call me a wanker anytime. 🙂
Cheers!
Thanks, Moses, but I actually got #1000 in the thread about tickling, religion, and evil. It's the one where I talk about music--off-topic, I know, but that's how I got 1000 posts so quickly! 😛
Call me a wanker anytime. 🙂
Cheers!
What pisses me off?
People with no passion.
People with no passion about anything.
Love.
Sex.
Money.
Music.
SOMETHING!
Joby
By the way, thanks to a friend for introducing me to Burkowski a while back. Below are two of his works I dig. There are more, but these stand out.
The History of One Tough Mother Fucker
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much
chance...give him these pills...his backbone
is crushed, but is was crushed before and somehow
mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at
these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets
are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody
cut it off..."
I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom
floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he
wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it
and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to
him and gently touched him and he looked back at
me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went
by he made his first move
dragging himself forward by his front legs
(the rear ones wouldn't work)
he made it to the litter box
crawled over and in,
it was like the trumpet of possible victory
blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I
related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that
bad but bad enough
one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and
just looked at me.
"you can make it," I said to him.
he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally
he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the
rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested,
then got up.
you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed
almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in
his eyes never left...
and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about
life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed,
shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look
at this!"
but they don't understand, they say something like,"you
say you've been influenced by Celine?"
"no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by
things like this, by this, by this!"
I shake the cat, hold him up in
the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows...
it's then that the interviews end
although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures
later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo-
graphed together.
he too knows it's bullshit but that somehow it all helps.
How Is Your Heart?
during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
*****s
I always had this certain
contentment-
I wouldn't call it
happiness-
it was more of an inner
balance
that settled for
whatever was occuring
and it helped in the
factories
and when relationships
went wrong
with the
girls.
it helped
through the
wars and the
hangovers
the backalley fights
the
hospitals.
to awaken in a cheap room
in a strange city and
pull up the shade-
this was the craziest kind of
contentment
and to walk across the floor
to an old dresser with a
cracked mirror-
see myself, ugly,
grinning at it all.
what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire.
People with no passion.
People with no passion about anything.
Love.
Sex.
Money.
Music.
SOMETHING!
Joby
By the way, thanks to a friend for introducing me to Burkowski a while back. Below are two of his works I dig. There are more, but these stand out.
The History of One Tough Mother Fucker
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much
chance...give him these pills...his backbone
is crushed, but is was crushed before and somehow
mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at
these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets
are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody
cut it off..."
I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom
floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he
wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it
and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to
him and gently touched him and he looked back at
me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went
by he made his first move
dragging himself forward by his front legs
(the rear ones wouldn't work)
he made it to the litter box
crawled over and in,
it was like the trumpet of possible victory
blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I
related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that
bad but bad enough
one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and
just looked at me.
"you can make it," I said to him.
he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally
he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the
rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested,
then got up.
you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed
almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in
his eyes never left...
and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about
life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed,
shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look
at this!"
but they don't understand, they say something like,"you
say you've been influenced by Celine?"
"no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by
things like this, by this, by this!"
I shake the cat, hold him up in
the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows...
it's then that the interviews end
although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures
later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo-
graphed together.
he too knows it's bullshit but that somehow it all helps.
How Is Your Heart?
during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
*****s
I always had this certain
contentment-
I wouldn't call it
happiness-
it was more of an inner
balance
that settled for
whatever was occuring
and it helped in the
factories
and when relationships
went wrong
with the
girls.
it helped
through the
wars and the
hangovers
the backalley fights
the
hospitals.
to awaken in a cheap room
in a strange city and
pull up the shade-
this was the craziest kind of
contentment
and to walk across the floor
to an old dresser with a
cracked mirror-
see myself, ugly,
grinning at it all.
what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire.
peeps with long posts
Just wondering guys, are you cutting/pasting, or actually typing the whole thing out?
Not that it matters much; I'm finding it kinda neat that my thread elicited such responses.
This is Heraldo Riviera, reporting live...
Cheers.
Just wondering guys, are you cutting/pasting, or actually typing the whole thing out?
Not that it matters much; I'm finding it kinda neat that my thread elicited such responses.
This is Heraldo Riviera, reporting live...
Cheers.
amk714
Level of Blueberry Feather
- Joined
- Aug 23, 2002
- Messages
- 14,643
- Points
- 0
I wholeheartedly agree, Joby. If you don't have any passion, you might as well be dead. Just be sure you have a little logic too, or else you might do things you will regret. For example, tickling a stranger--I've never done it, but when I see a woman slip off her shoes, guess what runs through my mind? 
Do you get a prize at 1st Level Red Feather?
I saw a young lass take off her shoes and socks the other day in the mall...right in public (she was sitting on a bench). I don't know what she was looking for, and I didn't care. But, man, if I weren't so velocity-challenged, I would have given her the Cootchy coo and then ran like I was an extra from Braveheart.
Damn that Mel Gibson.
I saw a young lass take off her shoes and socks the other day in the mall...right in public (she was sitting on a bench). I don't know what she was looking for, and I didn't care. But, man, if I weren't so velocity-challenged, I would have given her the Cootchy coo and then ran like I was an extra from Braveheart.
Damn that Mel Gibson.
Last edited:
amk714
Level of Blueberry Feather
- Joined
- Aug 23, 2002
- Messages
- 14,643
- Points
- 0
I don't deserve a prize, I just post like there's no tomorrow! 🙂
I know what you mean, Moses. A LOT of women take off their shoes at my university (in the park, classroom, library, cafeteria, etc.), and it drives me crazy!
Mel Gibson? Never heard of him! 😛
I know what you mean, Moses. A LOT of women take off their shoes at my university (in the park, classroom, library, cafeteria, etc.), and it drives me crazy!
Mel Gibson? Never heard of him! 😛
ShiningIce
3rd Level Green Feather
- Joined
- Feb 14, 2002
- Messages
- 4,702
- Points
- 36
What pisses me off? When theres a car wreck and EVERYBODY stops to stare causing an UNNECESSARY traffic jam!! ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!! 😡 😡
QBWeaver said:
Not for some people.
Mmmmm...most of the regular peeps that I have confessed my tickling fetish to just thought it was silly. However, when I reveal my prediliction for women's lower extremities, then I am directly, and quickly, placed into the weird category.
(Go directly to Weirdville. Do not pass Go (or gas). Do not collect $200).
Yaaaha! me funny! or something.
Cheers.
Flatfoot
2nd Level Orange Feather
- Joined
- Aug 18, 2001
- Messages
- 2,479
- Points
- 38
Gosh, where to start...
Hmmm... how to say this tactfully...
What pisses me off is a woman who isn't very accommodating emotionally, has a very self-centered attitude, has no qualms about spending my money to go get a third tattoo and spend all night partying with her friends and buying beer, while I'm working extended hours, only to come home to clean up after her, feed the animals (because she "doesn't have time" to do it.), and struggle to pay all the bills with what money I have left after she pisses away a large portion on her personal recreational needs, causing me to get all worked up to the point where I have to scream and give myself a migraine and frighten my two cats. After that's over and done with, I may have some time to fix myself some dinner and come here before I have to get ready to go to sleep and start the process over again.
I think I'm going to enjoy going on ship in March, being able to spend 6 months away from here.
Hmmm... how to say this tactfully...
What pisses me off is a woman who isn't very accommodating emotionally, has a very self-centered attitude, has no qualms about spending my money to go get a third tattoo and spend all night partying with her friends and buying beer, while I'm working extended hours, only to come home to clean up after her, feed the animals (because she "doesn't have time" to do it.), and struggle to pay all the bills with what money I have left after she pisses away a large portion on her personal recreational needs, causing me to get all worked up to the point where I have to scream and give myself a migraine and frighten my two cats. After that's over and done with, I may have some time to fix myself some dinner and come here before I have to get ready to go to sleep and start the process over again.
I think I'm going to enjoy going on ship in March, being able to spend 6 months away from here.
Re: Gosh, where to start...
Dude, please, for the love of anything you find holy, TAKE THOSE TWO CATS AND RUN!!
3rd tattoo?!?
Or just stay on the ship (marines?) and settle someplace nice.
We're getting to be like family here, dude, so it pains me to see another ticklephile suffering, and besides, I haven't even had the chance to call you a wanker yet.
Seriously though, Flatfoot, you deserve much, much, better than what that thing 🙂wow: ) is giving to you.
Let us know how it turns out.
Cheers.
P.S. You Wanker 😀
Flatfoot said:
Dude, please, for the love of anything you find holy, TAKE THOSE TWO CATS AND RUN!!
3rd tattoo?!?
Or just stay on the ship (marines?) and settle someplace nice.
We're getting to be like family here, dude, so it pains me to see another ticklephile suffering, and besides, I haven't even had the chance to call you a wanker yet.
Seriously though, Flatfoot, you deserve much, much, better than what that thing 🙂wow: ) is giving to you.
Let us know how it turns out.
Cheers.
P.S. You Wanker 😀
TicklingDuo
3rd Level Yellow Feather
- Joined
- Oct 23, 2001
- Messages
- 3,733
- Points
- 0
Re: I'll tell you what pisses me off...
Don't feel bad, Krokus. Two weeks is good compared to ours. It took them 6 weeks and 5 visits to get us up and running. In the end, it turned out to be a data entry error. Our modem wouldn't activate because someone had entered our memb3ership info. incorrectly. That's something that any one of them could have picked up on...had they bothered to look. Not the brightest stars in the firmament! Be patient. It's definitely worth the wait.
Ann
Krokus said:
Don't feel bad, Krokus. Two weeks is good compared to ours. It took them 6 weeks and 5 visits to get us up and running. In the end, it turned out to be a data entry error. Our modem wouldn't activate because someone had entered our memb3ership info. incorrectly. That's something that any one of them could have picked up on...had they bothered to look. Not the brightest stars in the firmament! Be patient. It's definitely worth the wait.
Ann
amk714 said:
Funny you should say that. I just had a conversation with a good friend of mine last night about this topic, and she told me that the Navy mans its ships with marines, which makes no sense to me, but I ain't gonna argue with a redhead, yanowatamsayin'?
😕
