too much typing—since 2003


because what holds the world together is contests without prizes (sorry, Mark and the wind that blows through Gena Rowlands' hair)

For no good reason, I spontaneously started writing Beck lyrics earlier today. I do hope this doesn't mean that teams of 10,000,000-year-old alien lawyers will descend in silver spaceships to reallocate my pengram chips or whatever.

Anyway: the contest is, finish the song! Points off for making any sense at all.

Drip-dry modem in a wet dream parking lot
Gettin' strangled in the tangle of a carburetor hum
Flash flood humping in a mousehole packet
With a Krispy Kreme coffee and a paper bag bum

1 comment:

Joe said...

Throwin' down changes like a microclimate
Never chump out because I'm always rhymin'
Disney phantoms leap at the bell of Boston
Here's my trumpet, let's get blowin' often

On second thought, maybe that's not Beck...