Muumuu House ‘Care’ Package and a Contest
not ryan call
I received today in the mail a ‘care’ package from Muumuu House and in that package were several books: you are a little bit happier than i am by Tao Lin and Distortions by Ann Beattie and three copies of Sometimes My Heart Pushes My Ribs by Ellen Kennedy. Thank you, Muumuu House, for the ‘care’ package.
And last night a friend and I found a bar in Houston that has ping-pong tables, and we played ping-pong for three or four hours, and I defeated him twice. He did not defeat me. The rest of the time we just hit the ball back and forth and impressed ourselves with our amazing skills. I think I am very good at ping-pong. I think it is the one thing I’m allowed to be good at, maybe. That and washing dishes. I think there is something very satisfying about hitting a ping-pong ball just so, having it do exactly what you want it to do.
To celebrate our finding this bar with ping-pong tables, I would like to offer two copies of Sometimes My Heart Pushes Against My Ribs by Ellen Kennedy, which, sadly, has no poems/stories in it about ping-pong.
Please post your poems/stories about ping-pong in the comments section to be eligible for a copy of Sometimes My Heart Pushes Against My Ribs by Ellen Kennedy. Be sure to include a real email address in the field where it asks for an email address, so I can email you if your poem/story wins. If you are shy, you may also email a poem/story about ping-pong to htmlgiant [at] gmail [dot] com, but if I select your poem/story, then I will post it for everyone to see. This contest is open until 2:00pm CST, Saturday the 7th.
Good work, Muumuu House and Ellen Kennedy, on your first book. I enjoyed reading it.
UPDATE: Winners of the two Muumuu House books are Miles and Darby Larson. Miles and Darby please email your mailing addresses to HTMLGIANT so I can send you your prize.
Thank you to everyone who emailed and posted ping-pong stories/poems.
Tags: Ellen Kennedy, muumuu house
thank you ryan
i feel afraid of jereme
will there be a jereme comment
i feel excited to a degree
weird
am i afraid or excited
jereme
hehe
thank you ryan
i feel afraid of jereme
will there be a jereme comment
i feel excited to a degree
weird
am i afraid or excited
jereme
hehe
thank you ryan
i feel afraid of jereme
will there be a jereme comment
i feel excited to a degree
weird
am i afraid or excited
jereme
hehe
NEW POEM
i asked you when you were going to post the blog post and you said fifteen minutes and i thought ‘yes’ in moderately intense tone
i keep thinking ‘i feel problems’
i keep fantasizing about certain girls i can ‘run into’
while walking with certain other girls for maximum effect
just had an image of shitting on my face
from where i’m sitting
the shit flying up
i’m laughing, feeling suicidal
i believe profits can be made pretty easily
just typed in gmail chat ‘the world is yours zachary,
poop, read comments, whatever, just don’t hold back’
then thought ‘i’m going to kill myself’
3-5 times in fast succession
NEW POEM
i asked you when you were going to post the blog post and you said fifteen minutes and i thought ‘yes’ in moderately intense tone
i keep thinking ‘i feel problems’
i keep fantasizing about certain girls i can ‘run into’
while walking with certain other girls for maximum effect
just had an image of shitting on my face
from where i’m sitting
the shit flying up
i’m laughing, feeling suicidal
i believe profits can be made pretty easily
just typed in gmail chat ‘the world is yours zachary,
poop, read comments, whatever, just don’t hold back’
then thought ‘i’m going to kill myself’
3-5 times in fast succession
NEW POEM
i asked you when you were going to post the blog post and you said fifteen minutes and i thought ‘yes’ in moderately intense tone
i keep thinking ‘i feel problems’
i keep fantasizing about certain girls i can ‘run into’
while walking with certain other girls for maximum effect
just had an image of shitting on my face
from where i’m sitting
the shit flying up
i’m laughing, feeling suicidal
i believe profits can be made pretty easily
just typed in gmail chat ‘the world is yours zachary,
poop, read comments, whatever, just don’t hold back’
then thought ‘i’m going to kill myself’
3-5 times in fast succession
just reread that and very mildly regretted posting it
almost imperceptibly mildly
barely feelable
yet it is there, the regret
or is it
i feel okay, it seems okay
just reread that and very mildly regretted posting it
almost imperceptibly mildly
barely feelable
yet it is there, the regret
or is it
i feel okay, it seems okay
just reread that and very mildly regretted posting it
almost imperceptibly mildly
barely feelable
yet it is there, the regret
or is it
i feel okay, it seems okay
the title of that poem was not in reference to this blog post, i would like to add
no member of html giant was pressured indirectly or passively to create this blog post
the title of that poem was not in reference to this blog post, i would like to add
no member of html giant was pressured indirectly or passively to create this blog post
the title of that poem was not in reference to this blog post, i would like to add
no member of html giant was pressured indirectly or passively to create this blog post
haha remember when i wrote about your vimeo and people freaked because they said you ‘used’ me?
haha remember when i wrote about your vimeo and people freaked because they said you ‘used’ me?
haha remember when i wrote about your vimeo and people freaked because they said you ‘used’ me?
how does one get a care package? is it on taos blog? why don’t I go to taos blog anymore? I will do it later. I must be gigantic.
here’s poems:
poem 1
serpent and kris
play ping pong through
the ghost of carl lewis
hovering above the piano
ling lang plays rachmaninoff
on
off
on
off
poem 2
here’s justice
so let us play
ping pong and
then have the
cows come
home and
that will be all
poem 3
eat more red
beets for me
please then
save me a
slice of pep-
permint tea
cake you
made with
ping pong
balls for a
swiss cheese
effect
how does one get a care package? is it on taos blog? why don’t I go to taos blog anymore? I will do it later. I must be gigantic.
here’s poems:
poem 1
serpent and kris
play ping pong through
the ghost of carl lewis
hovering above the piano
ling lang plays rachmaninoff
on
off
on
off
poem 2
here’s justice
so let us play
ping pong and
then have the
cows come
home and
that will be all
poem 3
eat more red
beets for me
please then
save me a
slice of pep-
permint tea
cake you
made with
ping pong
balls for a
swiss cheese
effect
how does one get a care package? is it on taos blog? why don’t I go to taos blog anymore? I will do it later. I must be gigantic.
here’s poems:
poem 1
serpent and kris
play ping pong through
the ghost of carl lewis
hovering above the piano
ling lang plays rachmaninoff
on
off
on
off
poem 2
here’s justice
so let us play
ping pong and
then have the
cows come
home and
that will be all
poem 3
eat more red
beets for me
please then
save me a
slice of pep-
permint tea
cake you
made with
ping pong
balls for a
swiss cheese
effect
EVERYONE SUCKS AT PING PONG
i go to hale and hearty soups
i buy florentine chicken, a roast beef sandwich, and an izze
then i see how much it costs
then i say i want these cookies
the girl cashier says they are so really good
i eat them everyday.
then i go to my office eat
the sandwich with the soup
then the soup with the crackers
then i want the cookies but the soup
isn’t done i want the cookies
slowly forcing myself to eat the soup
this is like ping pong
it’s like in ping pong when someone spikes it at you
you don’t move your paddle or anything
and you feel like you’d be more vulnerable
than your opponent if there were a surprise sword attack
Amy Ping wanted to kill herself, Lily Pong wanted to get born again. Such were the disparities of life; that they were touring China together was not a convenience. In Szechuan, Amy chocked on a some tripe, confirming all the more so what she wanted to do at 3:00PM.
“I’m so going to kill myself at 3:00PM” said Amy.
“They said there would be Christians here. What the fuck?” said Lily.
Ping and Pong finished their pho, texted their respective best friends forever, and waited around nervously. “I smell tiger penis,” said Amy.
“That’s because we’re sitting next to a store that sells them,” replied Lily, who had decided that Ping could not be saved. Perhaps this trip was her personal purgatory.
The moon rose early that afternoon. The dim dome of the sky blinked twice, then a film of cloud rolled across the surface, absorbing what little pale shadows were left.
“It’s 2:56PM,” said Amy, taking out her pill bottle.
“Those are laxatives.”
“I’ll shit to dea—”
But before she could finish, a panda came over and sneezed. The hopeless parts of its face look the most human. Ping realized that life, like an irritated sinus cavity, is not perfect. One simply needed to explode the inside of one’s face. Ping sneezed too, causing Pong to sneeze as well.
Life, they said, would be okay.
Amy Ping wanted to kill herself, Lily Pong wanted to get born again. Such were the disparities of life; that they were touring China together was not a convenience. In Szechuan, Amy chocked on a some tripe, confirming all the more so what she wanted to do at 3:00PM.
“I’m so going to kill myself at 3:00PM” said Amy.
“They said there would be Christians here. What the fuck?” said Lily.
Ping and Pong finished their pho, texted their respective best friends forever, and waited around nervously. “I smell tiger penis,” said Amy.
“That’s because we’re sitting next to a store that sells them,” replied Lily, who had decided that Ping could not be saved. Perhaps this trip was her personal purgatory.
The moon rose early that afternoon. The dim dome of the sky blinked twice, then a film of cloud rolled across the surface, absorbing what little pale shadows were left.
“It’s 2:56PM,” said Amy, taking out her pill bottle.
“Those are laxatives.”
“I’ll shit to dea—”
But before she could finish, a panda came over and sneezed. The hopeless parts of its face look the most human. Ping realized that life, like an irritated sinus cavity, is not perfect. One simply needed to explode the inside of one’s face. Ping sneezed too, causing Pong to sneeze as well.
Life, they said, would be okay.
Amy Ping wanted to kill herself, Lily Pong wanted to get born again. Such were the disparities of life; that they were touring China together was not a convenience. In Szechuan, Amy chocked on a some tripe, confirming all the more so what she wanted to do at 3:00PM.
“I’m so going to kill myself at 3:00PM” said Amy.
“They said there would be Christians here. What the fuck?” said Lily.
Ping and Pong finished their pho, texted their respective best friends forever, and waited around nervously. “I smell tiger penis,” said Amy.
“That’s because we’re sitting next to a store that sells them,” replied Lily, who had decided that Ping could not be saved. Perhaps this trip was her personal purgatory.
The moon rose early that afternoon. The dim dome of the sky blinked twice, then a film of cloud rolled across the surface, absorbing what little pale shadows were left.
“It’s 2:56PM,” said Amy, taking out her pill bottle.
“Those are laxatives.”
“I’ll shit to dea—”
But before she could finish, a panda came over and sneezed. The hopeless parts of its face look the most human. Ping realized that life, like an irritated sinus cavity, is not perfect. One simply needed to explode the inside of one’s face. Ping sneezed too, causing Pong to sneeze as well.
Life, they said, would be okay.
No entry except to say I will defeat Ryan Call in ping pong any time, any day.
No entry except to say I will defeat Ryan Call in ping pong any time, any day.
No entry except to say I will defeat Ryan Call in ping pong any time, any day.
negative
negative
negative
poem 4
I forgive you
for hitting me
in the face with
your paddle
after I had my
eyes surgically
replaced with
ping pong balls
poem 4
I forgive you
for hitting me
in the face with
your paddle
after I had my
eyes surgically
replaced with
ping pong balls
poem 4
I forgive you
for hitting me
in the face with
your paddle
after I had my
eyes surgically
replaced with
ping pong balls
Ryan, thank you for this contest and post.
When we first met, I saw your nose bleed
And I thought, he does blow, just like me
then we played ping pong at the lodge.
As the seasons changed, and the weather
changed not much, I learned you don’t do blow
then we played ping pong at the lodge.
I fell iin love with you in Barcelona
absinthe in Chinatown, drag queen hookers on the Ramblas
then we played ping pong at the lodge.
Twenty five years later, who knew
you still are a toothless, nose bleeding freak
and we still play ping pong at the lodge.
Our sons have your teeth, but their noses don’t bleed
but what am I to you?
We still play ping pong at the lodge.
You never did blow, you had dry nose from the plane
And yet, we are in love, twenty five years later
And still play ping pong at the lodge.
I try to imagine but how can I, or you
What our future entails, death? well yes,
but we always will have our time playing ping pong at the lodge.
you can puff before a funeral
you can puff before a funeral especially if you know the kid who died would have wanted you to puff before his funeral
but you can’t puff a year later when the parents of the kid who died ask if you’ll come over for a ‘remembrance’
there’s no way
earlier in the night we’d eaten dinner then watched a video somebody had put together of mike skiing
the soundtrack was this classical piano music
“mike used to listen to classical music while he skied,” mike’s dad said
later we played ping pong down in their basement
i was the 2nd worst ping pong player
i felt angry because rich and lonnie kept whipping all these different shots and spins
i felt angry i wasn’t playing better
this was mike’s ping pong table
if i would have puffed i could have played better
the whole night nobody once had to say ‘snow’ or ‘avalanche’ or ‘recovering’
we just played ping pong
then we stopped playing ping pong
it was time to go
you could feel mike’s dad about to cry but it was a happy kind of crying
“having you guys over helps me remember how it felt when mike was here”
you can puff before a funeral
you can puff before a funeral especially if you know the kid who died would have wanted you to puff before his funeral
but you can’t puff a year later when the parents of the kid who died ask if you’ll come over for a ‘remembrance’
there’s no way
earlier in the night we’d eaten dinner then watched a video somebody had put together of mike skiing
the soundtrack was this classical piano music
“mike used to listen to classical music while he skied,” mike’s dad said
later we played ping pong down in their basement
i was the 2nd worst ping pong player
i felt angry because rich and lonnie kept whipping all these different shots and spins
i felt angry i wasn’t playing better
this was mike’s ping pong table
if i would have puffed i could have played better
the whole night nobody once had to say ‘snow’ or ‘avalanche’ or ‘recovering’
we just played ping pong
then we stopped playing ping pong
it was time to go
you could feel mike’s dad about to cry but it was a happy kind of crying
“having you guys over helps me remember how it felt when mike was here”
you can puff before a funeral
you can puff before a funeral especially if you know the kid who died would have wanted you to puff before his funeral
but you can’t puff a year later when the parents of the kid who died ask if you’ll come over for a ‘remembrance’
there’s no way
earlier in the night we’d eaten dinner then watched a video somebody had put together of mike skiing
the soundtrack was this classical piano music
“mike used to listen to classical music while he skied,” mike’s dad said
later we played ping pong down in their basement
i was the 2nd worst ping pong player
i felt angry because rich and lonnie kept whipping all these different shots and spins
i felt angry i wasn’t playing better
this was mike’s ping pong table
if i would have puffed i could have played better
the whole night nobody once had to say ‘snow’ or ‘avalanche’ or ‘recovering’
we just played ping pong
then we stopped playing ping pong
it was time to go
you could feel mike’s dad about to cry but it was a happy kind of crying
“having you guys over helps me remember how it felt when mike was here”
Ping pong is sex
She didn’t tell me how playing ping pong was very sexy
so i
agreed to meet her for coffee, and do whatever made sense
as though
paddling little white balls like a child could alter things, like steroids
or a fake tan,
yes, she was all the mountain snow I’d never touched, growing up
easy cactus, ice plant,
impaired, unprepared I understood her ease, her grin after
creaming me (I’d cream me too)
the whacking ball between us and the fact we were fucking.
Ping pong is sex
She didn’t tell me how playing ping pong was very sexy
so i
agreed to meet her for coffee, and do whatever made sense
as though
paddling little white balls like a child could alter things, like steroids
or a fake tan,
yes, she was all the mountain snow I’d never touched, growing up
easy cactus, ice plant,
impaired, unprepared I understood her ease, her grin after
creaming me (I’d cream me too)
the whacking ball between us and the fact we were fucking.
Ping pong is sex
She didn’t tell me how playing ping pong was very sexy
so i
agreed to meet her for coffee, and do whatever made sense
as though
paddling little white balls like a child could alter things, like steroids
or a fake tan,
yes, she was all the mountain snow I’d never touched, growing up
easy cactus, ice plant,
impaired, unprepared I understood her ease, her grin after
creaming me (I’d cream me too)
the whacking ball between us and the fact we were fucking.
Jimmy, I have some friends who are conjoined twins. Your story is too perfect. I have sent them your story. Even if your story is not about conjoined twins, I think my friends will like it because they like playing ping-pong.
Jimmy, I have some friends who are conjoined twins. Your story is too perfect. I have sent them your story. Even if your story is not about conjoined twins, I think my friends will like it because they like playing ping-pong.
Jimmy, I have some friends who are conjoined twins. Your story is too perfect. I have sent them your story. Even if your story is not about conjoined twins, I think my friends will like it because they like playing ping-pong.
Meg? I wish I was a lesbian and I wish I could play ping-pong. I like you. I am gay.
Meg? I wish I was a lesbian and I wish I could play ping-pong. I like you. I am gay.
Meg? I wish I was a lesbian and I wish I could play ping-pong. I like you. I am gay.
Darby, I have forwarded this poem to Sally Duncan. She has a glass eye and I think she would think that this poem is very funny because she likes to be paddled. Also I am almost done with my story because I haven’t started it yet but when it is done I will submit it too and you can say things about my story.
Darby, I have forwarded this poem to Sally Duncan. She has a glass eye and I think she would think that this poem is very funny because she likes to be paddled. Also I am almost done with my story because I haven’t started it yet but when it is done I will submit it too and you can say things about my story.
Darby, I have forwarded this poem to Sally Duncan. She has a glass eye and I think she would think that this poem is very funny because she likes to be paddled. Also I am almost done with my story because I haven’t started it yet but when it is done I will submit it too and you can say things about my story.
i am going to post a stream-of-consciousness poem thing that is shitty:
when i read the words “ping pong” on this site
an image of a woman shooting ping pong balls out of her vagina manifested in my mind
and also the words “beer pong”
which is something that you can get herpes from, according to the news
but not really
life isn’t that rewarding
i am going to post a stream-of-consciousness poem thing that is shitty:
when i read the words “ping pong” on this site
an image of a woman shooting ping pong balls out of her vagina manifested in my mind
and also the words “beer pong”
which is something that you can get herpes from, according to the news
but not really
life isn’t that rewarding
i am going to post a stream-of-consciousness poem thing that is shitty:
when i read the words “ping pong” on this site
an image of a woman shooting ping pong balls out of her vagina manifested in my mind
and also the words “beer pong”
which is something that you can get herpes from, according to the news
but not really
life isn’t that rewarding
poem 5
There’s tons
of suns in
Sears and
bums on
walks from
sides in
cellophane
monster
holes just
in today
and last
spring
gathering
coconuts
in your
forest we
played pong
in, read
each other
ping in,
took a month
to recover
from, booked
a room to
recover in,
make love
in, drink rum
in, cover
ourselves in
cellophane
and sleep
from our
toes and
elbows on
and under
the sun
before
heading
to Sears
poem 5
There’s tons
of suns in
Sears and
bums on
walks from
sides in
cellophane
monster
holes just
in today
and last
spring
gathering
coconuts
in your
forest we
played pong
in, read
each other
ping in,
took a month
to recover
from, booked
a room to
recover in,
make love
in, drink rum
in, cover
ourselves in
cellophane
and sleep
from our
toes and
elbows on
and under
the sun
before
heading
to Sears
poem 5
There’s tons
of suns in
Sears and
bums on
walks from
sides in
cellophane
monster
holes just
in today
and last
spring
gathering
coconuts
in your
forest we
played pong
in, read
each other
ping in,
took a month
to recover
from, booked
a room to
recover in,
make love
in, drink rum
in, cover
ourselves in
cellophane
and sleep
from our
toes and
elbows on
and under
the sun
before
heading
to Sears
thank you
thank you
thank you
for sale: ping-pong paddles, never used.
for sale: ping-pong paddles, never used.
for sale: ping-pong paddles, never used.
I can’t wait for our date!
I can’t wait for our date!
I can’t wait for our date!
MY COUSIN WHO LIKES GOLF A LOT IS GETTING MARRIED
one time i hung out with him and his friend.
his friend’s name was ‘R.E.A.’
i don’t know how to spell it
in my head i called him ‘oreo’
my cousin was wearing a hat that said ‘PING’
‘R.E.A.’ took it off his head and said ‘PING, the brother of PONG’
no one laughed.
i was afraid to laugh because i felt ‘uncool’.
in my head i laughed a lot.
i thought it was ‘genius’.
at work, there is a chinese girl named ‘Ping’
when i work with her i sometimes think ‘PING, the brother of PONG’
and i want to laugh a lot
so i turn to the soda fountain to hide my face from the customers
and i grin wildly at my medium cokes.
MY COUSIN WHO LIKES GOLF A LOT IS GETTING MARRIED
one time i hung out with him and his friend.
his friend’s name was ‘R.E.A.’
i don’t know how to spell it
in my head i called him ‘oreo’
my cousin was wearing a hat that said ‘PING’
‘R.E.A.’ took it off his head and said ‘PING, the brother of PONG’
no one laughed.
i was afraid to laugh because i felt ‘uncool’.
in my head i laughed a lot.
i thought it was ‘genius’.
at work, there is a chinese girl named ‘Ping’
when i work with her i sometimes think ‘PING, the brother of PONG’
and i want to laugh a lot
so i turn to the soda fountain to hide my face from the customers
and i grin wildly at my medium cokes.
MY COUSIN WHO LIKES GOLF A LOT IS GETTING MARRIED
one time i hung out with him and his friend.
his friend’s name was ‘R.E.A.’
i don’t know how to spell it
in my head i called him ‘oreo’
my cousin was wearing a hat that said ‘PING’
‘R.E.A.’ took it off his head and said ‘PING, the brother of PONG’
no one laughed.
i was afraid to laugh because i felt ‘uncool’.
in my head i laughed a lot.
i thought it was ‘genius’.
at work, there is a chinese girl named ‘Ping’
when i work with her i sometimes think ‘PING, the brother of PONG’
and i want to laugh a lot
so i turn to the soda fountain to hide my face from the customers
and i grin wildly at my medium cokes.
“Wang Liqin”
One day, Bolly, Nada and Clare were playing the ping-pong in the garage. Suddenly, Bolly saw something strange up in the rafters. Nada also saw something strange up in the rafters. Clare also saw something strange up in the rafters.
A beautiful, magic ping-pong ball appeared!
Nobody said anything for a long time. Bolly didn’t say anything. Nada also didn’t say anything. Clare also didn’t say anything.
This went on for a long time. It went on longer cause nobody said anything. Like, it was all quiet in there.
Finally, Bolly said something: Look! Sex slaves–
Clare: I see!
Nada:
“Wang Liqin”
One day, Bolly, Nada and Clare were playing the ping-pong in the garage. Suddenly, Bolly saw something strange up in the rafters. Nada also saw something strange up in the rafters. Clare also saw something strange up in the rafters.
A beautiful, magic ping-pong ball appeared!
Nobody said anything for a long time. Bolly didn’t say anything. Nada also didn’t say anything. Clare also didn’t say anything.
This went on for a long time. It went on longer cause nobody said anything. Like, it was all quiet in there.
Finally, Bolly said something: Look! Sex slaves–
Clare: I see!
Nada:
“Wang Liqin”
One day, Bolly, Nada and Clare were playing the ping-pong in the garage. Suddenly, Bolly saw something strange up in the rafters. Nada also saw something strange up in the rafters. Clare also saw something strange up in the rafters.
A beautiful, magic ping-pong ball appeared!
Nobody said anything for a long time. Bolly didn’t say anything. Nada also didn’t say anything. Clare also didn’t say anything.
This went on for a long time. It went on longer cause nobody said anything. Like, it was all quiet in there.
Finally, Bolly said something: Look! Sex slaves–
Clare: I see!
Nada:
It is also for my friends Mark Ryden, Marion Peck, Nada Gordon, Sandy and Sally Duncan. And for Wang Liqin–thanks, Wang!
It is also for my friends Mark Ryden, Marion Peck, Nada Gordon, Sandy and Sally Duncan. And for Wang Liqin–thanks, Wang!
It is also for my friends Mark Ryden, Marion Peck, Nada Gordon, Sandy and Sally Duncan. And for Wang Liqin–thanks, Wang!
ellen!
ellen!
ellen!
I am going to forward this story to my friend Kim who is an actual sex slave. I think she will find it wonderful because she is also a magical person and enjoys eating grapefruit in the morning.
I am going to forward this story to my friend Kim who is an actual sex slave. I think she will find it wonderful because she is also a magical person and enjoys eating grapefruit in the morning.
I am going to forward this story to my friend Kim who is an actual sex slave. I think she will find it wonderful because she is also a magical person and enjoys eating grapefruit in the morning.
ping pong poems
pee pee pee
it sounds like two fourteen year olds
with acne
red freckles
bad hair
ac/dc shirts
playing ‘air ping-pong’ at midnight
while their older brothers play beer pong
with the ping pong table
with attractive girls that
the fourteen year olds fantasize about
but their older brothers and everyone else at the party
downstairs would laugh at them and possibly hurt them
so they play air ping-pong
and go ‘pee pee pee’
ping pong poems
pee pee pee
it sounds like two fourteen year olds
with acne
red freckles
bad hair
ac/dc shirts
playing ‘air ping-pong’ at midnight
while their older brothers play beer pong
with the ping pong table
with attractive girls that
the fourteen year olds fantasize about
but their older brothers and everyone else at the party
downstairs would laugh at them and possibly hurt them
so they play air ping-pong
and go ‘pee pee pee’
ping pong poems
pee pee pee
it sounds like two fourteen year olds
with acne
red freckles
bad hair
ac/dc shirts
playing ‘air ping-pong’ at midnight
while their older brothers play beer pong
with the ping pong table
with attractive girls that
the fourteen year olds fantasize about
but their older brothers and everyone else at the party
downstairs would laugh at them and possibly hurt them
so they play air ping-pong
and go ‘pee pee pee’
like the ping
pong balls
when the beer
is gone balls
you say hey
it’s all right
we’ve got
paddles
enjoy
our night
like the ping
pong balls
when the beer
is gone balls
you say hey
it’s all right
we’ve got
paddles
enjoy
our night
like the ping
pong balls
when the beer
is gone balls
you say hey
it’s all right
we’ve got
paddles
enjoy
our night
p
p
p
oh dear, i am not gay. something is quite wrong with me. I WRITE gay. What’s that all about?
oh dear, i am not gay. something is quite wrong with me. I WRITE gay. What’s that all about?
oh dear, i am not gay. something is quite wrong with me. I WRITE gay. What’s that all about?
CONTEST
The ping-pong ball was boiled.
It wasn’t happy about . . . well, did its happiness count? It was a ping-pong ball, and dented, maybe there was some brain damage, and people needed its right shape back.
Its right shape was back but it was soft, soft and then as it cooled brittle and then, well, it’s right shape wasn’t totally back.
It was more oblong than round, yes, an egg and not a ball that bounces high toward a swinging paddle.
But people needed its right shape back.
They looked under the table for other correctly shaped balls.
They looked around the boxes around the garage.
There was an old bookcase out there, too, filled with cookbooks and a single tin filled with corroded coins. They looked behind there.
In the past, balls were in the cat box; today there were curls of shit and damp clumps of litter.
But people needed its right shape back.
It was game point.
It was 22 points to 21 points.
The people couldn’t play with air, could they? They could play without paddles; they played with their hands. The ball bounced funny, off their knuckles, off the meat and hollow of their palms. The ball bounced like a boiled ball would: a right or left turn off the table, suddenly toward or away from a player.
Hmm.
People needed the ball’s right shape back?
The two players—one with 21 points, the other with 22 points—threw their paddles in the pot of water that had held the ball. They turned the burner on high, to boil. The egg-shaped ball was already in one of their hands when they walked to the garage.
For the record: the ping-pong ball, it got happy.
Table tennis!
CONTEST
The ping-pong ball was boiled.
It wasn’t happy about . . . well, did its happiness count? It was a ping-pong ball, and dented, maybe there was some brain damage, and people needed its right shape back.
Its right shape was back but it was soft, soft and then as it cooled brittle and then, well, it’s right shape wasn’t totally back.
It was more oblong than round, yes, an egg and not a ball that bounces high toward a swinging paddle.
But people needed its right shape back.
They looked under the table for other correctly shaped balls.
They looked around the boxes around the garage.
There was an old bookcase out there, too, filled with cookbooks and a single tin filled with corroded coins. They looked behind there.
In the past, balls were in the cat box; today there were curls of shit and damp clumps of litter.
But people needed its right shape back.
It was game point.
It was 22 points to 21 points.
The people couldn’t play with air, could they? They could play without paddles; they played with their hands. The ball bounced funny, off their knuckles, off the meat and hollow of their palms. The ball bounced like a boiled ball would: a right or left turn off the table, suddenly toward or away from a player.
Hmm.
People needed the ball’s right shape back?
The two players—one with 21 points, the other with 22 points—threw their paddles in the pot of water that had held the ball. They turned the burner on high, to boil. The egg-shaped ball was already in one of their hands when they walked to the garage.
For the record: the ping-pong ball, it got happy.
Table tennis!
CONTEST
The ping-pong ball was boiled.
It wasn’t happy about . . . well, did its happiness count? It was a ping-pong ball, and dented, maybe there was some brain damage, and people needed its right shape back.
Its right shape was back but it was soft, soft and then as it cooled brittle and then, well, it’s right shape wasn’t totally back.
It was more oblong than round, yes, an egg and not a ball that bounces high toward a swinging paddle.
But people needed its right shape back.
They looked under the table for other correctly shaped balls.
They looked around the boxes around the garage.
There was an old bookcase out there, too, filled with cookbooks and a single tin filled with corroded coins. They looked behind there.
In the past, balls were in the cat box; today there were curls of shit and damp clumps of litter.
But people needed its right shape back.
It was game point.
It was 22 points to 21 points.
The people couldn’t play with air, could they? They could play without paddles; they played with their hands. The ball bounced funny, off their knuckles, off the meat and hollow of their palms. The ball bounced like a boiled ball would: a right or left turn off the table, suddenly toward or away from a player.
Hmm.
People needed the ball’s right shape back?
The two players—one with 21 points, the other with 22 points—threw their paddles in the pot of water that had held the ball. They turned the burner on high, to boil. The egg-shaped ball was already in one of their hands when they walked to the garage.
For the record: the ping-pong ball, it got happy.
Table tennis!
Me, too. Want to go out on a date?
Me, too. Want to go out on a date?
Me, too. Want to go out on a date?
I like you Darby. Grapefruit.
I like you Darby. Grapefruit.
I like you Darby. Grapefruit.
Ping-Pong Tanka
In idle moments
I think if ping-pong is an
Onomatopoeia
Surely it can’t be, because
By rights it should be pik-pok
Ping-Pong Tanka
In idle moments
I think if ping-pong is an
Onomatopoeia
Surely it can’t be, because
By rights it should be pik-pok
Ping-Pong Tanka
In idle moments
I think if ping-pong is an
Onomatopoeia
Surely it can’t be, because
By rights it should be pik-pok
Reset
John McEnroe lost his famous temper
in heavy traffic,
careened into a telephone pole. Spike.
At the hospital, they cut him open,
saw that
his brain was swelling:
“even if he survives,” they said,
“he’ll be less than he was, a smaller
man–a ping pong ball to a tennis
ball.”
–
They took out his half his brain–
they can do that now–
His left hemisphere.
They packed the empty space with
ping pong balls,
they can do that, you know,
And stitched him back together.
“This way he won’t forget,”
they said. “He’ll always remember
who he was–in some way.”
–
He favored his left leg when he walked,
temper no longer famous,
he spoke slowly,
but his backhand was just as wicked.
Reset
John McEnroe lost his famous temper
in heavy traffic,
careened into a telephone pole. Spike.
At the hospital, they cut him open,
saw that
his brain was swelling:
“even if he survives,” they said,
“he’ll be less than he was, a smaller
man–a ping pong ball to a tennis
ball.”
–
They took out his half his brain–
they can do that now–
His left hemisphere.
They packed the empty space with
ping pong balls,
they can do that, you know,
And stitched him back together.
“This way he won’t forget,”
they said. “He’ll always remember
who he was–in some way.”
–
He favored his left leg when he walked,
temper no longer famous,
he spoke slowly,
but his backhand was just as wicked.
Reset
John McEnroe lost his famous temper
in heavy traffic,
careened into a telephone pole. Spike.
At the hospital, they cut him open,
saw that
his brain was swelling:
“even if he survives,” they said,
“he’ll be less than he was, a smaller
man–a ping pong ball to a tennis
ball.”
–
They took out his half his brain–
they can do that now–
His left hemisphere.
They packed the empty space with
ping pong balls,
they can do that, you know,
And stitched him back together.
“This way he won’t forget,”
they said. “He’ll always remember
who he was–in some way.”
–
He favored his left leg when he walked,
temper no longer famous,
he spoke slowly,
but his backhand was just as wicked.
yes
yes
ryan ordered a lifetime subscription during the ‘free books’ phase of lifetime subscriptions, something like that
ryan ordered a lifetime subscription during the ‘free books’ phase of lifetime subscriptions, something like that
yes
ryan ordered a lifetime subscription during the ‘free books’ phase of lifetime subscriptions, something like that
surprise sword attack
‘damn’
surprise sword attack
‘damn’
medium cokes, hehe
medium cokes, hehe
surprise sword attack
‘damn’
medium cokes, hehe
i think maybe darby should win both books
and also distortions
i think maybe darby should win both books
and also distortions
i think maybe darby should win both books
and also distortions
whiff-whaff
whiff-whaff
whiff-whaff
“ping pong ving long”
there was a boy at my school called ving long
his brother’s name was ving king
his other brother’s name was michael
i’ve known michael since we were 6
when he was young
he had very crusty lips
michael hit my friend in the head with a rollerskate
one time
after they finished playing indoor football
another time
michael threw eggs down at my other friend
from the balcony of his flat
michael is in jail now
he put someone in a coma
the last i heard
his brothers were both doing well
they both work in computers or something
“ping pong ving long”
there was a boy at my school called ving long
his brother’s name was ving king
his other brother’s name was michael
i’ve known michael since we were 6
when he was young
he had very crusty lips
michael hit my friend in the head with a rollerskate
one time
after they finished playing indoor football
another time
michael threw eggs down at my other friend
from the balcony of his flat
michael is in jail now
he put someone in a coma
the last i heard
his brothers were both doing well
they both work in computers or something
“ping pong ving long”
there was a boy at my school called ving long
his brother’s name was ving king
his other brother’s name was michael
i’ve known michael since we were 6
when he was young
he had very crusty lips
michael hit my friend in the head with a rollerskate
one time
after they finished playing indoor football
another time
michael threw eggs down at my other friend
from the balcony of his flat
michael is in jail now
he put someone in a coma
the last i heard
his brothers were both doing well
they both work in computers or something
My brother and I used to play ping pong all the time. Our family went to Mexico once and my brother and I played ping pong while we waited for the tennis courts to open up. The wait staff kept giving us “virgin” pina coladas, our favourite drink at the time. They just brought them over while we played, and after a while we didn’t have to order them. If we had known that in Mexico we could have got drinks with alcohol easily probably we wouldn’t have cared.
This girl I had an eye on all week came over while we played on the last day. She was charming. “I’ve never seen you guys before, where you have been?” Ha, playing ping pong, what do you think? It was like the end of a lame high-school movie where this guy spends the whole time trying to impress other people but realises at the end that he just had to be himself. I was maybe thirteen or fourteen. My brother was ten or eleven.
Later my father built us a ping pong table out by the garage. We lived in the country, there was nothing around us for miles. The table was made out of pressed plywood board and the worst hinges and legs that money can buy. My dad is not especially good at making things, he’s a doctor. Especially after one winter the table had all kinds of slants and weird kinks but it didn’t really matter. We never thought our father was good at anything that counted until he beat us at ping pong. When he was a kid he played at a Ukranian community centre in Toronto. He never told us much about his past but from that point forward I thought he must have been like a nerdy Duddy Kravitz. If you don’t know Mordecai Richler, Duddy Kravitz was a driven Jewish kid from downtown Montreal.
I almost never see my brother anymore. Drug lords are tearing Mexico apart. A few years ago my parents rented a dumpster and one of the first things they threw in was the rotting wood ping pong table.
maybe. maybe not.
maybe. maybe not.
maybe. maybe not.
who won
who won
who won
I think i might have won this. Nice! I wonder which one won it?
I think i might have won this. Nice! I wonder which one won it?
I think i might have won this. Nice! I wonder which one won it?
I have spent probably 2000 hours of my life playing ping pong and never written word one about it. TONIGHT THAT CHANGES!
I have spent probably 2000 hours of my life playing ping pong and never written word one about it. TONIGHT THAT CHANGES!
I have spent probably 2000 hours of my life playing ping pong and never written word one about it. TONIGHT THAT CHANGES!
My next door neighbor travels around DC and Bmore playing PP all the time. He’s like 55 and now I can’t even get over 10 points against him but I can still rise to the occasion against anyone on here. Whenever.
My next door neighbor travels around DC and Bmore playing PP all the time. He’s like 55 and now I can’t even get over 10 points against him but I can still rise to the occasion against anyone on here. Whenever.
My next door neighbor travels around DC and Bmore playing PP all the time. He’s like 55 and now I can’t even get over 10 points against him but I can still rise to the occasion against anyone on here. Whenever.
Chaz’s ping pong paddles smell like ass because he bought them from a guy who bought them from a dude who kept his table in Gacy’s old basement.
Chaz’s ping pong paddles smell like ass because he bought them from a guy who bought them from a dude who kept his table in Gacy’s old basement.
Chaz’s ping pong paddles smell like ass because he bought them from a guy who bought them from a dude who kept his table in Gacy’s old basement.
i know that bar in houston, my only complaint is there is not enough room to play but you can’t beat beer and ping pong
i know that bar in houston, my only complaint is there is not enough room to play but you can’t beat beer and ping pong
i know that bar in houston, my only complaint is there is not enough room to play but you can’t beat beer and ping pong