superduperhobojoe

[superduperhobojoe]

Trade or Dare

“Eh, i’ll do em tomorrow”, Michael said, looking at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. It had been quite the long day. He had worked, did his online class, and went grocery shopping. After lugging in the salt for the water softener and putting away all the groceries, the only thing that was on Michael Higgins mind was getting some dinner and some rest. He glanced at the clock on his way out of the kitchen. 8:30. A bit earlier than his usual bed time, but there was nothing wrong with getting an early start. Michael then went through is normal bedtime routine, snuggled up under the blankets, and promptly fell asleep, completely unaware of the hell that awaited him...

SMASH!! Michael awoke in a groggy stupor to the sound of glass breaking. He looked at the clock, 3:26. His mind began to race as his hear rate increased. “A burglar? Someone broke in and tried stealing food? A ghost?” All thoughts that rushed through is mind in a matter of seconds. He quickly rose from his bed, quietly opening his bedroom door and creeping into the dark hallway. To his horror, his suspicions were confirmed about someone being in the house. Looking downstairs, he could vividly see light pouring out from the kitchen. Michael quickly turned around and fumbled for his phone in the darkness. Dialing 911, he quickly explained the situation. The operator said that someone would be there in around 20 minutes, and that he should find a safe place to hide until then. Upon hanging up, Michael quickly moved towards his closet and dug around for his old baseball bat. Like hell he was gonna hide and wait for this bastard to come up and kill him. Michael, feeling the adrenaline rush of danger, began to creep down the hallway once more. He was going to get the drop on this burglar, and knock him out before the police even arrived.

Creeping slowly down the steps with baseball bat in hand, Michael’s heart raced. With each step he felt the tension building. Listening closely, he could definitely hear something coming from the kitchen. Moving quietly to the entrance, he flattened himself to the wall, before slowly peeking in... To his horror, what Michael saw couldn’t even be described as human. What he saw, standing in front of his kitchen sink on its hind legs, was a massive 8 foot tall rat.

Quickly covering his mouth to keep himself from screaming, Michael could barely comprehend what he was looking at. The rat had massive sharp yellowed teeth, matted filthy fur, and a long, slimy looking tail. In it’s disgusting paws, it was currently holding a plate from the dishes that Michael had neglected to clean and was licking the scraps right off of it. In his moment of fear and irrational thinking however, one idea stood out. One very stupid and greedy idea. “If I kill this thing, wouldn’t I become famous?”. Instantly, most of his fear had gone, replaced with thoughts of TV interviews and himself swimming in cash. It was at that moment that he decided. He was going to do it. He had to kill this rat.

Slinking into the room as slowly as possible, Michael approached the massive beast. It had just started on another dirty plate, licking the wet food with it’s massive tongue. Michael was scared of course, but it was overshadowed by pure adrenaline and greed. “Just one good hit on the head, and this bastard would die right? It’s body is massive, but it’s head is only a little bit bigger than mine. That must mean that it would most likely be able to stand the same amount of trauma!” As he crept ever closer, he hoped that the rat wouldn’t be able to smell him. As luck would have it, this wasn’t the first time Michael had put those dishes off for the next day and they definitely smelled like it. The scent was all the massive rat beast could smell. Only a few feet away now, Michael began to raise his bat high above his head. “One good hit. One good hit” repeating in his mind over and over again. The rat was none the wiser to his presence, too focused on the taste of soggy pasta sauce on the bowl it was licking. Only about 3 feet away now, Michael reel back even further, ready to deliver what was hopefully the killing blow to the beastly rat. “One more step and fame and fortune are mine, baby!” Michael thought, almost with sickly glee. CHRUNCH.

Terror struck him all over again, the loud crunch grinding both the man and the rat to a halt. Michael looked down, to see what he had just stepped on. To his horror, underneath his foot was the dish that had smashed to wake him up in the first place. He had just stepped on the very thing that would have saved him, had he just stayed in his room and waited for the police to arrive. Looking back up, he saw the eyes of the massive rat, staring directly into his soul....

The police found nothing left of Michael Higgins when the finally arrived 25 minutes after the call was made. Nothing more than a blood soaked kitchen floor, a sink full of partially cleaned dishes, and a set of extremely peculiar bloody pawprints leading out of the window, and into the night....

Got a little carried away with this one but i’ve really been in a Halloween mood lately! Wanted to do something a but spooky.

[superduperhobojoe]

My brother and I play

with everything at peace

We push through life

as we struggle through our strife

We play our games

and the togetherness seems to never end

He says he is bored

and begins to leave home

and i become lonely

and must learn to stand on my own

Poem #2

My friend and I play

with everything else in dismay

We talk about life

as we butter with our knife

We eat our bread

and the conversation seems to never end

She says she is Drowsy

and begins to head home

and I get melancholy

and begin to stand there like a gnome

[superduperhobojoe]

Try This 10.3

I loved you then

I love you now

The passage of time

blows swiftly upon my brow

I will grow old

You will stay the same

Until the day I pass

I will not see you again

This is not farewell

It is only temporary

Until the next time i see you

My heart will grow weary

[superduperhobojoe]

Hair Life Story

Birth, the blessing of life. I was lucky enough to be fresh in the world. No worries, no issues, just existence. Pure ignorance. Pure bliss. I couldn’t understand the concept of hair as anything but something residing on the top of the head. I couldn’t understand how hairy my parents marriage was. I couldn’t understand the arguments. I couldn’t understand the divorce.

Childhood is a mixed bag. The hair gets longer. My mom always makes me cut it short. She’s biracial, and although I look completely white, my hair shows it’s curls when it grows out. I liked it long and my friends did too, but she always made me get it cut. I wanted to grow it out, I wanted to let it show. I loved my long hair, but she always cut it, without fail.

Now is the best time of my life. My hair grows as long as I want it, and I show it proudly. My girlfriend loves it, my friends love it. I finally feel free. Free to grow as my hair does. Feel free to live.

[superduperhobojoe]

We board the ship at dawn. Conditions are perfect. The sails billow. We move swiftly. Miles from home. The sky darkens. Winds pick up. The seer was wrong. The rains come. Zeus sends his wrath. Our sails burn. Fire is everywhere. There is no hope. Poseidon takes us.

[superduperhobojoe]

Every picture here is from my office, the place I definitely spend most of my time. My laptop has its own because there have been countless times I have engrossed myself in the digital art program i use on that thing. I spend a little too much time on it sometimes. Same goes for my VR headset. A portal to many different settings and something I've used to keep sane ever since this friggin pandemic started. The shelf has the most meaning of anything in this set of pictures though. It may look like junk, but 90 percent of everything on that shelf has meaning to me. It’s one of my most prized collections.

[superduperhobojoe]

It was a normal Saturday night for George. He had the weekend off for once, which was a nice change of pace. He had spent the day doing what he normally does. Fiddling with the lawnmower, picking the weeds, doing a little bit of eavesdropping.... He didn’t mean to listen in on his neighbor’s conversations. It’s not his fault their lives are so interesting to listen to. And tonight seemed to be stacking up to be a good show. It sounded like his neighbor has been arguing with his wife since six o’clock. George took his place at his normal spot on the porch, beer in hand, and started listening in. Sounded like they were getting pretty heated this time. Something about spending habits? George tried to listen more closely. He was lucky his neighbor’s had such loud voices, but it still wasn’t enough. He decided to do something he had never done before. Standing from his chair, beer still in hand, he began to creep over to his neighbor’s window. He began to listen in at the window. He could hear much more clearly now, and it sounded like his neighbor, Joseph, was the main aggressor. “This is getting pretty juicy” George thought to himself. “How could you do this to me?! I thought you loved me?!” George heard from inside. “It’s not my fault you’re so terrible! Maybe if you actually tried, you would get ahead!” He heard Joseph’s wife, Kylie, yell back. George felt a small hint of guilt, listening in like this. At the same time however, he felt a rush. Was he about to witness a divorce argument? Would he be the only one on the block to know the true story of why Joseph moved away? “You always do this! Every single time! Why can’t you just let this happen for once!” He heard Joseph say, almost pleading with her. Was this it? Was this where it ended? They had been arguing for a while now. But he still didn’t know why they were splitting up! He wanted to know, dammit! “Joseph, I have to tell you something....” She was more level toned now. This is it! She’s going to do it! George waited with bated breath when suddenly.... “GEORGE WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING EAVESDROPPING ON THE NEIGHBORS AGAIN!?!?” George jumped about a foot in the air, the voice of his wife scaring him quite badly. He was so engrossed in the neighbors argument, he had completely forgotten that his wife was on her way home from the grocery store! “I-I- wasn’t honey! I swear!” He said, quickly walking back to his own property and to his wife waiting for him on the porch.

Meanwhile....

“Joseph, I have to tell you something.....you’re the absolute WORST at Mario Kart!!!” Kylie shouted, as her character crossed the finish line. “NOOOOO!!!” Joseph shouted, “I can’t believe you beat me AGAIN. How can you be so good at this game?!” 

The Nosey Neighbor

George is a short, chubby man who thinks that pocket t-shirts and crocs are a fashion statement; his voice carries across the backyard that separates ours from his, asking about our new porch furniture or if our pool is warm enough for an afternoon dip. He’s constantly working on his lawnmower, creating new problems to repair that happens (conveniently every time we are outside). You would think he’s just being friendly, right? However, his garage blocks our view of his outside seating area, and he takes advantage of this, especially on evenings when Courtney and I have tiny disagreements. Or when we’re lounging by the pool on a Saturday. The sound of his back door opening and slamming shut is one that we wait for while we are enjoying the stars on a starry night. Being the friendly neighbor, we give him a wave and yell out a casual, “Nice night, huh?’ before dropping our conversation to a whisper. We aren’t being rude; he is just the nosey neighbor. 

[superduperhobojoe]

#trythis4.7

Every morning, without fail, Randy would meticulously inspect his front and back lawn. He checked it for anything out of place. A stray patch of yellow, a friendly gift left by someone else’s dog. By the near perfect lines after mowing day, anyone could see that his lawn was his life. Why? Maybe he used it to stay in shape. He was quite elderly after all, and it was by no means a small yard. He was married, and his grandchildren lived with him. Perhaps it was used as his quiet time. He was not a rude person, by any means. His obsession just seemed strange. Anytime you found yourself in a conversation with the man, he did not hesitate to bring up his lawn at least once. He often would tell his grandchildren and their friends, wanting to take advantage of the massive play area, that the lawn treatment prevented their playing. It was obvious for everyone to see, Randy’s lawn was his life.

[superduperhobojoe]

Cold Steel

Created for one purpose, used for nothing else. The steel is heavy. It is twisted and bent.

My parts are machined. I am loaded. The mechanism tested. The explosion loud.

Travelling far. My siblings look different, but we share a purpose. Our use is the same.

“Protection from danger” My owner justifies. I know what I am. My purpose is death.

[superduperhobojoe]

Musical Show and Tell

Passing Out Pieces

Mac DeMarco

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Lk3NFWw9Fg&ab_channel=CapturedTracks

Watching my life passing right in front of my eyes

Hell of a story, or is it boring?

Can't claim to care, never been reluctant to share

Passing out pieces of me, don't you know nothing comes free?

What Mom don't know has taken its toll on me

It's all I've seen that can't be wiped clean

It's hard to believe what it's made of me

Passing my life, living it out with her side

Listening closely, hearing her mostly

Can't shake concern, seems that every time that I turn

I'm passing out pieces of me, don't you know nothing comes free?

What Mom don't know has taken its toll on me

It's all I've seen that can't be wiped clean

It's hard to believe what it's made of me

Yeah

This song has always felt like my own personal anthem. I’m sure the actual meaning differs but i’ve always felt like the song was about the struggles in life and how they change you. The line, “ It's all I've seen that can't be wiped clean” after the line about “what mom don’t know” has always hit me the hardest. When growing up, you get to a point where your parents are no longer 100 percent involved in your life. For some people, that moment is right from birth. For others, around adolescence. Whatever the case, there’s gonna be a point where you’re affected by things you can no longer be protected from. You’ll be affected by things you’ll never be able to forget. The line, “ It's hard to believe what it's made of me” means that you may be surprised by how much stronger that hardship has made you. Painful experiences will always be with you, but you have to remember that you survived. That, because of those experiences, you are the person you are today. That you have to power to push forward and bloom into an amazing person.

P.S. if you’re looking for a wild experience, watch the music video for this song. Fair warning, there’s some real gross stuff in it, including some gore. The ridiculousness of it may give you a chuckle though.

[superduperhobojoe]

Cliches

shines like the sun

glistens like moonlight

hot like the sun

passion like fire

fit as a fiddle

silent as the grave

time is money

sharp as a tack

Flipped Metaphors:

hot like the moonlight

passion like the sun

silent as the money

time like fire

fit as a tack

glistens like the grave

sharp like the sun

[superduperhobojoe]

Try This 1.2

What to take on the Journey:

Curiosity, Caution, Wonder, Books, Empathy, Emotion, Warm Blanket, Memories, a Good Friend, a Pen.

The pen shook in his grasp. 12 years. 12 long years of writing, and for the first time in his life, he was at a loss. He had nothing to write about. Was it writers block? No..... Something far worse. He had lost something. The ink was primed. It was ready to be used, ready to serve it’s purpose and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to allow it. He couldn’t bring himself to touch the page. Not in a world where she would never be there to read it.

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but what is life without a little risk?

Caution is the key to survival, but it should always be an accessory to fun.

Childlike Wonder is never lost, it lies dormant inside of us.

Books must always exist, or the world is doomed.

Empathy is easy to have but these days, many forget to add it to their character sheets.

Emotions are present in everything we do, whether we like it or not.

Warm Blankets are a great substitute for human touch, but are never a replacement.

Memories are a great comfort and a great hindrance.

Good Friends are a great safety net.

A Pen is one of the few ways to bring thoughts to life.