Flora Above Sea Level

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© Paul Oliverio

Featuring Purple Haze

Dedicated to Jimi Hendrix' Grandmother

The sand in the 4th photo is a foreshadowing of the next Jimi Hendrix page.
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I Can't See Your Face ©

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When Samson Grego awoke, he felt his face.
He scratched his nose. He looked in the mirror.
Nothing was any different from the day before.

When Samantha Grego awoke, nothing
was different from any other morning
until she looked at Samson.

She could not see his face.

He could not see her face but her beautiful breasts
and all the other wonders of her body were intact.

So they made love as if they were in a dream
where faces were optional.

An hour later, there was an egg in front of Samantha.
There was also an egg in front of Samson.
Neither of these eggs were cooked
nor intended to be eaten.

One egg was where Samantha's face used to be
but only from Samson's point of view.

Samantha clearly saw her face in the mirror
but her husband's face was nothing but an egg,
unbroken with the pointed side up.

The reverse was true for her husband except that
Samantha's egg face had the rounded side up.

However, when either one spoke,
the other could hear every word.

"Samantha, where did your face go?"

"I was about to ask you the same question."

"There are probably lots of questions
we could be asking but...

"Shouldn't bother with. I can still see your soul.
I know where your heart is. Any questions
I can think of, I will  just make up the answers  
and count our lucky stars."

"Twenty seven."

"What?"

"At last count,  we had twenty seven lucky stars."

"Then let's call it twenty-eight and have a nice day."

"Twenty eight. Sounds like a perfect number."


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Footnote
I CAN'T SEE YOUR FACE is the copyrighted property of LCSoL.
Usage of this story can be negotiated  with Paul Oliverio,
via this website.
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Paulgiarism: A Cherry-Picking Poem

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Quality is job one
For those who think young

Some would rather scratch an itch
Some would rather fight than switch

Enjoy the fun...Enjoy the fox
Think outside the bun
Think outside the box

Think below...Think above:
The toughest job you’ll ever love

What you have breeds what you get
Never let ‘em see you sweat

Be not weaker...Be stronger
Make a silly millimeter longer

Take it all off...Turn it all on
But do you have Grey Poupon?

Flavored majority/savored minority
Answer to a higher authority

Good luck on your day in court
Thank you for your support. 

Definitely or maybe
You've come a long way, baby

Of this–and only this–
You can be sure
Life is not a job.
It’s an adventure.

Graditudinal reference
Is made in self-defence:

I cherrypicked with half of my might
From a 100-slogan website.


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Footnotes
Regarding the only specific brand product named above,
please send all coupons to this website.

Please donate all other dijon mustard coupons to the charity
(or grocery store) of your choice. 
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A Cat Named Zelda

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This

is

a

cat

named

Zelda.

This

is

a

dog

named

Walter.


What they have in common
is the only question 
on their minds.

That question is...

Where is Mrs. CarPeo? 
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The Dog Bloggerer (Comic Relief #500)

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Mooch is the pooch in MUTTS.

He is an ecdysiast but is not as easy on the eyes as Carol Doda. 
He may, however, be a tad more philosophical
than the original  steroid boob lady.

Sometimes, he gets base but that is not wat I ment.
Ther is no missspelling hear–it is creative spelling.      

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MEgotism

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Rapping Teacher Proves He Has All the Angles 

Teacher mixes math and hip-hop to teach

10th-graders the Pythagorean Theorem. 

Jefferson High School teacher, Paul Oliverio, wearing his "MATH HURTS" T-shirt,
gave the signal to hit the boombox sitting at the rear of the classroom.

As the rhythmic rant of a too-cool rapper, backed by pounding bass and drums,
began to fill Room 312, smiles crept out on the faces of his captive audience...

Elizabeth Taylor












 

Kurt Vonnegut














ELAINE WOO 
wrote  front-page obituaries for Elizabeth Taylor and Kurt Vonnegut.

The Los Angeles Times reporter wrote about  Ms. Taylor
and Mr. Vonnegut when they died. 

She wrote about me when 
I gave life to the Pythagorean Theorem.
Can you dig it?

Another dead person Ms. Woo wrote about is also
written about extensively by Mr. GoodFather:

Mr. Salinger's next page is  here.

J. D. Salinger
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E-Z Classics: Frankie K's THE MORPH

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The Institute of Inane Research determined
that 97% of people who are old enough
to read books do not read books
unless each page has 
140 characters or less.

Stanley Lamont Streamline, Chief Executive Buffoon of the IIR,
has just published an uber-shortened
and mega-modernized edition of
the fabled Metamorphosis 
by Franz Kafka.

What had been a 59-full page story  with over 10,000 words
has been reduced to all of 46 words.

No page has more than twelve words but,
with illustrations, it is still a 59-page story. 

Both the title and the author's name have been
"culturally compromised."

We hereby present the full text of the story–
and only the text– but you may want
a box of crayons to draw pictures
and add understanding to the tale.

Either that or pay $47. 99
for the graphic novel.

********

********

The Morph
        by
  Frankie K

Once  again,  leaf blowers  awoke Gregor Samsa.  
But this  time  he  was  not  angry because 
he had been transformed into a cockroach 
and rodents  have no feelings. 

The cleaning lady walked into his room 
and sprayed him dead with a can of Raid.


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Footnotes
The next reference to Kafka appears here.

Mr. Oliverio originally submitted THE MORPH
to a New York Magazine "super-short story"
contest in ≈1977.

Today, it is the copyrighted property of LCSoL. 
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