Rules for the Modern Socialite #1

1. If it's too good to be true, it must be a lady boy.
2. You are not a true carpenter if you still have all you're fingers.
3. Things we learned from movies #23: Jews always have Chinese take out on Christmas Eve.
4. By the time you get to the mixed nuts bowl at the bar, there will be no cashews.
5. People you can hit #15: People who say on 31/12, "See you next year".
6. Athletes foot does mean you work out to much; It means you should take shower.
7. Just so you know, through the course of their marriage, you're father asked you're mother to have anal sex.
8. Even though you're shoes smell like a dead vulture, you can't stop smelling them.
9. Even the pope partakes to Dutch ovens.
11. The only reason why Woody Allen makes films is to prove that even an uglier guy than you can get laid
12. Even Charlie Chaplin didn't have energy to watch silent films.
13. Yes, truffles taste like mud and socks.
14. Every person tried to imitate the characters in the signal light.
15. Yes, the reason you can't work you're computer is it was revenge by the nerd you used to beat up at school.
16. It's not a detective movie if the detective does not give in his badge and gun and gets drunk afterwards.
17. It doesn't matter how old you're TV batteries are. If you open the lid and twist them, they will work.
18. Even Elton John thinks musicals are too gay.
19. You were offered to be Santa at the office party. It is not because they think you're jolly; It's because you're fat.
20. Even Lewis Hamilton doesn't recognize anything when looks under the hood of the car.

Seared Gaze

I’m hiding behind a cheap pair of dark glasses.

Hiding from the smell of reeking fish lying one, one,

in a market stall.

the fishing boots laid to rest in the sun.

the hustle and bustle of tourists

looking for that tomato that will remind them of their childhood

that never was,

On a kibbutz or an Indian reservation

Weekends at the city’s shore.

playing with sand as it was clay

crafting a Golem that will protect them from the shining light

of growing up.

sand pales blue and wet

riding in the back of cars

glorious Sunday afternoons

in a gridlock.

the kids ask for a pee stop

they go in front a great beech,

near the beach,

where a fishing smack

fashioned for two,

The sailors went to the pub

drowning in ale and sorrow (they need a pee stop as well),

sorrow for playing the part

of drunken sailors,

in some imaginary escapist world

of a writer in a shared flat,

hiding behind cheap dark glasses.