Just a little things come and go in my squid mind...



Jack-a-lope in the moon


When the moon is full, Jack-a-lope is busy

Steamy Hot

Snowy White

Sweet and sticky

Jack-a-lope makes a rice cake

Every new years day people choke on rice cakes

 News says 6 people died this year

Makes a Jack-a-lope sad

Jack-a-lope wants to make a rice cake that doesn’t choke people

Jack-a-lope tried butter, olive oil, even lard to mix in rice cake

 One day the Jack-a-lope mail ordered some sperm whale oil to try

Next day animal rights people protested on the moon

Posted on Monday, January 10, 2011 at 10:15PM by Registered CommenterNumber One Squid | Comments Off

The Hoof Song



In the dusty blue tent
I am an old rope walker
Between circles of spotlights
I take a step on the stiff rope

Feeling of young soft greens under the hoofs
The smell of damp soil
How long do I dream about this
Audiences shouting and clapping
No one sees the tears of the rope walker


Posted on Wednesday, November 25, 2009 at 01:41PM by Registered CommenterNumber One Squid | Comments Off

A Dog's Dream


The dog could smell the cheese on the kitchen table. He could almost see it. He sat nicely, did “get down” and howled a little bit. But the dog remained cheeseless.

That night he had a dream.

The dog had a set of wings on his back. They were small, rubbery bat-like wings. The dog was excited. He rushed to the kitchen. He took a deep breath, flapped his wings. His body floated for a second and he flapped some more with all his power. He was almost at the tabletop high, but he could not reach the cheese. He kicked the air, tried to stretch in the air, but he was a little too heavy for the small bat wings to go higher. The dog went back to his bed cheeseless again.

When he woke up next morning, the wings were gone. Instead, he found a big piece of cheese in his food bowl.

Posted on Thursday, July 30, 2009 at 02:33PM by Registered CommenterNumber One Squid | Comments Off

Hardboiled Eggs at Midnight

It has been a while since it first started visiting me. That night I was up late to prepare for the next day’s quiz, but I didn’t know where to start. I was doodling some gibberish on my notebook when I heard something tapping on the window. I went to the window and opened it. There was the Sloth.

The Sloth comes to my window when I am up late working. Usually past midnight, about the time my concentration starts to fade.

Sloths live most of their lives up in trees. Hanging upside down from trees, gravity gives them shape. But once they are on the ground, they look like slow-moving old mops. The Sloth crawls in over the windowsill and falls on the floor like a Jell-O. And he asks:
“Have you some water?”

Then he lazily searches in a plastic bag that he brought and gets two boiled eggs out. He hands me one. After we eat the extremely dry hardboiled eggs in silence and wash them down with glasses of water, he smiles with yellow teeth and stretches his arm out to pat my back.

“Good, ya?”  

One time I politely refused the offer. The Sloth was visibly disappointed. He exhaled with a deep trembling sigh. His narrow shoulders dropped so much that I thought he would melt into the floor. Since then I have never rejected his eggs.

Sometimes he pulls out the latest tabloid magazine. He spends the whole time quietly turning the pages; sometimes he gossips about celebrities in the news. His opinions are always repeats of someone’s comments he heard on TV. After spending about half an hour in my room, the Sloth crawls out the window. I am not quite sure what I think of this visitor, but I find myself missing him if a month passes without seeing him. I have started keeping a carafe of water in my study every night in case of dry hardboiled eggs.

I never know where the Sloth goes after he leaves my room. Once he had hair rollers on his head and was acting restlessly. I asked what he was up to, but he just mumbled: “interview” or “ big deal” or something.
After I see the Sloth off I go straight to bed, even if I haven’t finished my work, my enthusiasm drains away as the Sloth vanishes into the dark. Only the aftertaste of hardboiled egg remains.

-That is how the Sloth comes to visit me.

Posted on Friday, March 6, 2009 at 05:29PM by Registered CommenterNumber One Squid in , , | CommentsPost a Comment | References2 References

Happy Ox Year.

One New Year’s eve,  Lopa was at her grandpa’s house.
She was so bored because everyone was too busy getting ready for the New Year festival to play with her. She tried to pull her younger sister, Lil’ Reu’s hair but Lil’ Reu just ignored Lopa and kept wiping plates that Aunties washed. After fifth time Lopa tried to distract her, Reu told mom about it and Lopa was finally sent to the grandpa’s attic.

The attic was dark and dusty. So quiet that Lopa could hear mom and aunties singing and the clutter of dishes from the kitchen.  That’s when Lopa felt someone was watching her from the dark corner of the attic.
It was big and hairy, and had two short horns. It was a stuffed Chicken-buffalo’s head, lying on top of a pile of old books. Chicken-buffalos were very popular to hunt, and Lopa’s grandpa was one of the best hunters. The small black glass eyes reflected the faint light coming through the half-closed shade on the window, and seemed like they were staring at Lopa calmly.

She slowly walked over the head, and touched the black coarse hair. Of course Lopa knew that there was a good chance that the stuffed chicken-buffalo’s head would not answer her. When her hand touched the head, Lopa thought she heard a slight sigh.  It happened so quickly that Lopa could not remember exactly how, but the next moment she was standing in the attic wearing a chicken-buffalo head.
First Lopa was confused, she tried to pull the chicken-buffalo head off of her. But the head was stuck to Lopa’s head really tight as if it was always there. Lopa finally gave up on trying rip her head off and sat down on an old trunk. All of a sudden, she started feeling ticklish and funny, and felt like dancing around. So she did.
She busted opened the locked attic door with super power that she did not know she had, and ran down the stairs. The whole time she was humming the melody of “Revenge of the Monster Toaster”.

Everyone was working cheerfully in the kitchen.  Lopa jumped in and took mom’s arms, and spun her around. “Revenge of the Monster Toaster” echoed louder and louder in the kitchen. Everyone stopped laughing and singing, and started screaming. They were running around in the kitchen, some tried to squeeze themselves in the oven, dish shelf or anywhere to hids, some were swinging knives and a rolling pin.

"No, no no. It’s me."

Lopa tried to yell, but the heavy growling sound came out of the mouth instead.  People kept screaming and running. Then, Lopa’s grandpa ran in the kitchen with a rifle. It did not take long for Lopa to notice he was aiming her head. Well, Chicken-buffalo head on Lopa’s head, to be exact.

Lopa ran out of the house. She ran, ran more, and kept running. It was getting dark already in the woods. Lopa finally stopped when she reached Muddy Pond at the end of the woods.  She was tired and scared. She kneeled down and leaned over the pond to drink some water, and Lopa saw in the reflection that many, many stars shining over the big chicken-buffalo head, looking at her with glass eyes.

The night of New Year’s eve was here. Everyone was supposed to be in a warm dining room, enjoying the feast and wine.  Lopa found a little squirrel hole in an old oak tree, crawled in to keep herself warm. She fell asleep, while listening to her stomach growl…

"Lopa, Lopa!"

Lopa was woken up with banging on a door.  Someone was calling her name. As she thought “wait, was there a door on the squirrel hole?” she found herself lying on a floor holding the chicken-buffalo head in the grandpa’s attic.
"It’s almost midnight, Lopa. We’ll have to start the count down coconut dance!"
It was Lil’ Reu. Lopa sat up on a floor, and thought about something for a moment. Her eyes sparkled with naughty grin. Lopa picked up the chicken-buffalo head from the floor, and slowly put it over her head…

Happy New Ox Year everyone!

Posted on Friday, January 9, 2009 at 01:18PM by Registered CommenterNumber One Squid in , | CommentsPost a Comment