If you people failed to check out the comments from yesterday's entry on the Goulash Haiku Contest, you are missing perhaps the most amusing set of comments ever featured here. A full-scale haiku war erupted, that saw 24 gems written by 7 people, all of which shall be counted as entries for the First Annual Goulash Contest. Not only that, but Internet Fancyboy Brendan Adkins got into the act on his site (03.09.2004 1235hrs post), contributing a moving entry that also struck a blow for victory in the Google wars. If this thing continues to bust up, I'll have no choice but to rename it Haiku Idol. Don't forget: you only have until 11:59 PM on March 15th to enter! Quickly, strap on your haiku pants and get to poetrifying!
With the smashing success of the contest comes a great burden. What happens when the deadline rolls around, I pick the best entry, and then the disgruntled losers storm Powell Manor, angry mob style? How on earth could I turn my legion of Sasquatch security guards against these people, whose only crime is loving Goulash too much? To be honest, I've done this before when Danza busted down the door after a Flintstone Vitamin bender, but I felt a tingle of remorse as my bigfoots thrashed him to the point of delirium with their bamboo rods. So, what I need is someone to help me take the heat when the highly questionable verdict is rendered for the winner. Are there 2 people out there who haven't entered the haiku contest yet who'd like to be judges with me? Email me or leave me a comment, if so. We'll split all bribes evenly, and in exchange for your service, you will also win a fabulous prize. I'm just like Santa Claus when it comes to haiku contests, except that I'll even let Jews and Muslims can get in on this.
Here's a PSSSST to all the nerds out there. PSSSSST: I updated my RSS feed today from RSS 1.0 to RSS 2.0, so you can now view entire posts in all their glory in the feed. If that causes anyone's aggregator to poop its pants, just let me know and I'll get to fiddlin' or, more likely, I'll just buy your computer some diapers. Hint, hint: this act of benevolence ought to inspire some haiku. Keep up with the contest entries!
Posted by Cody at March 9, 2004 6:24 PMseventeen sylla-
bles cannot contain my in-
finite love for gou.
(lash)
Posted by: xyz at March 9, 2004 6:09 PMOh, Tony Danza
My love for you is eclisped
Goulash reigns supreme
Can I keep this up
Six more days of haikuing
Goulash will fuel me
Yeah, we may have to call an early end to the contest. Haikuing is better suited to foot races than marathons.
Posted by: Cody at March 9, 2004 7:59 PMThat is baby talk
Anyone not up to the
challenge can quit now
The prize is mine. oh
yes, the prize is mine. i will
keep on keepin on
What is that, like five?
You can't hang with me, sucka!
Step aside, little one.
Were you talking to
me or throwing away a
Danza Topless Box?
A preemptive strike
to your rebuttal: I don't
think you bleed goulash.
Your poems are loose, P
I'm an old school haikuer
Class of '99
See, Cody and I
We cashed in on our haikus
Poets for hire
Sold our phat poetry
Everyone had to read one
In front of the class
They didn't have one
So they came to the Masters
Served them up proper
Where was your punk ass?
Writing limericks, I bet
You can't handle this
Zing one for Danza
We have formed a new battle
Now it's personal
Return to Goulash
Danza battle wins nothing
Psyche! Goin down, Bitch.
Mike approaching me
jager says throw him through chair
sucker punched, jaw hurts
Allow me to voice what everyone is thinking:
Danza and Diddy
Fight because they are scared
To love each other.
goulashture posture
fine tizzle to my nizzle
girlz tickle pickle
that's such a home run
can't fake one million dollars
even at wal-mat
wear goulash for spring
I baked my own bikini
New beach picnic food
i write haikus about love:
Love me or leave me
But can't you see the beauty
Of melting with me?
or:
You torment my heart
And are nothing, if not Love.
I'm yours forever.
or:
I can't stand you JERK!
You are the fingernails on
The chalkboard of life.
yeah...i kinda go back and forth on that love stuff.
austrian chef friend
loving his goulash but not
his womanising way
country bumpkin
at first taste of goulash
says it's like his mother's soup
country bumpkin
at first taste of goulash
says it's like his mother's soup
country bumpkin
at first taste of goulash
says it's like his mother's soup
country bumpkin
at first taste of goulash
says it's like his mother's soup
country bumpkin
at first taste of goulash
says it's like his mother's soup