Pat Hatt's Blog, page 190

Don't Be A Robot, Shit Or Get Off The Pot!

The cat is being invaded today by a frog. What next? A hog? The thing is singing away too. Warning, some swear words may come due. What? The title gave that away? Well, okay!




Wandering through the day,
With life neatly in place.
Time to pay another bill,
Accepting the daily rat race.

Dreams stuck in a drawer,
Saved for a later date.
Expecting one day it will open,
Finding out it's far too late.

It's time to forget what you've been taught,
And just shit or get off the pot.
Time can't be stopped or caught,
So time to shit or get off the pot.

The what's, ifs and ors,
Pile up all your life.
Things never seem to come to be,
Like the constant stabbing of a knife.

If only you had this or that,
If only such an event would occur.
But the mundane is where you stay,
The lines continuing to blur.

It's time to forget what you've been taught,
And just shit or get off the pot.
Time can't be stopped or caught,
So time to shit or get off the pot.

You take comfort in others,
They are in the same boat.
A flock under one roof,
Sheep with nothing of note.

The time will come for you all,
The forbidden dream will take form.
But as each day passes you by,
You continue to live in the norm.

It's time to forget what you've been taught,
And just shit or get off the pot.
Time can't be stopped or caught,
So time to shit or get off the pot.

Subtle changes blow in the breeze,
Age begins to rear its head.
Before you know it you can't move,
And are tied to your death bed.

Break the ties, break the mold.
Let your dreams take hold.
Things will never become gold,
If on the flock you are sold.

It's time to forget what you've been taught,
And just shit or get off the pot.
Time can't be stopped or caught,
So time to shit or get off the pot.

Just forget what you've been taught,
And shit or get off the pot.

There is another tune done by the cat. It has been a while since he wore that hat. When the saying was said the other day, poof, the idea came into play. Now another tune has come to pass and thankfully I don't have to use a pot for my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

A Little Chew Between Me And You!

I was asked the other day why cats chew everything at their bay. Well dogs do it too. We are just more graceful at each zoo. But why do pets chew? I guess it is my job to inform all of you.

You pay no attention,
Not even a mention.
So what are we to do,
But chew and chew.

You leave us all day,
So we make you pay.
Chew up a little of this and that.
Blame the dog, not the cat.

You bring something new,
Into our zoo.
It has a funky smell,
So we chew it to hell.

You take it away.
Pffft we say.
A challenge is grand.
No we can't stand.

You pull and yank.
We'll make you walk the plank.
A game we will win.
The chewing game isn't a sin.

Maybe it just tastes good.
Like the strings on your hood.
Ever chewed string?
The taste buds sing.

Or there is indigestion as well.
When that rings a bell,
May need the floor mat,
Or chew on your hat.

You dropped it.
The floor it hit.
Five second rule.
We win, you drool.

Then there are the toys,
They bring all joys.
We can chew those up,
So why are other things a hiccup?

We own all,
At each and every hall.
So what we want to chew we chew.
And now you have a clue.

Any other information you wish to know? The cat is available for requests at his show. You humans still will not let us chew. I guess that just means more work for you. Now I will go chew some grass, that is allowed by my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Jobs You Could Do For A Buck Or Two!

Want to earn a buck or two? Well the cat can easily help you. Although you may find it not what it is cracked up to be. Then again it could intrigue thee.

Plenty of jobs here and there,
At an online lair.
Odesk has a ton.
Let's give some a run.

Write 10,000 words.
Could be done by birds.
Easy to get some pay.
Hmm $5 pay out on display.

In need of site.
Want it done overnight.
I want it to be a hit.
$20 is all I offer for it.

Need an app made.
One that will never fade.
$10 is all for you,
To make it come due.

Comment on blogs.
Help people through fogs.
Bring them to our site.
$10 a week for helping with our plight.

A review blogger is needed.
Out the bad ones will be weeded.
Never fear though,
Winner gets $1 a review show.

Design our logo.
Beats jumping on a pogo.
You will get $3 too,
For the best you can do.

Change passport info.
I want things more in a row.
$5 for the best one.
Hmm fishy work to be done.

Add Facebook followers today!
I want ones that won't go away.
Give the fake ones to me.
$4 for a 10,000 fake spree.

Create and run a blog.
It is about a dog.
Or maybe a log.
$3 a week plus eggnog.

There you are. Now you can make some dough at your sand bar. Don't say the cat never helped you to buy a happy meal. That is quite the deal. Of course there are good ones that come to pass. If you can get them you could be richer, won't take much, than my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Make The Cut, Now What?

So the cat got an email a while ago and it was not hate mail at my show. Damn, I must be doing something wrong. I guess I need zombie feet to come on strong.

How do you start a blog?
I am a bump on a log.
I want to start a blog.
Help me through the fog.

Gave them the link,
In it did sink.
They signed up,
Like an obedient pup.

Now what do I do?
I don't have a clue.
There are things here.
They make me run in fear.

Blogger is easy as can be.
Not sure what is wrong with thee.
But laid it out with ease,
And it was a breeze.

Does it look good?
Will people come to my hood?
How do I get them to come?
I think I need some rum.

Gave a little meow,
Telling them how.
Then they were happy,
But for all of that, turns out they aren't yappy.

What can I write?
It is such a plight.
I have no clue.
Can you write for my zoo?

So not only did I create it,
Or pointed what to hit.
But now I have to write it too?
Pffft to you.

I guess I won't blog.
I will go walk the dog.
Thank you though.
Now I must go.

So now you know.
Even before ducks are in a row,
Don't assume a thing,
Make sure they know what to write at their wing.

Hmmm start a blog and do not know what to write. That is sure a scary plight. They must have thought it happened by magic. How tragic. Better luck teaching a singing bass. At least it provided a post for my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

A Little Skittle Spittle!

Can you say that three times fast without putting your tongue in a cast? Is there even a cast for a tongue? Probably about as likely as popping a lung. Anyway, away we stroll. Did you know a skittle can please a troll?

Today you learn a skill,
That few truly know.
So just stand still,
And listen to my flow.

Give a troll a little,
Give a troll a lot.
As long as it's a skittle,
And nothing pokadot.

No, not peanut brittle.
No, not hot sauce.
If you want an acquittal,
Forget the reindeer moss.

It doesn't matter how.
It doesn't matter who.
No milk from a cow,
It looks too much like glue.

Lose the fancy bag,
Lose the clever grin.
He might start to gag,
When you bring the skittles in.

You need to color code,
You need to keep track,
Take an extra load,
Hide them behind your back.

Put them in his hand,
Put them in his shoe,
Forget nose land,
You'll just make him go achoo.









Click here to have a peer!
What? I did not finish it at my hut? Do I look like a dumb mutt? Want to know the end have to buy and hit send. So if a troll every comes near you, you at least know what to do. Feed it a skittle to stop its sass. No need to thank my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

We Search High And Low But Where Did It Go?

So the mouse on a string we ran off with at our wing, while Pat was away. Now we can't find it at our bay. Yes, I can open drawers with ease. I can go where ever I please.


Pat had left,Not noticing our theft.We had to put it back in place,Before he checked the space.

I checked the bag.Nothing! Not even a rag.I did tear it up a bit.I just had to do it.

I interrogated the fish.But do as I wish,He did not spill.I ate him like a pill.

I searched the whole bed.I took a moment to rest my head.Even we have to stretch,I hate playing fetch.

I searched from up high.I was meditating on it, no lie.Who needs eyes open to see.Not little old me.

I saw this thing.Cassie gave it a fling.We both watched it go round and round.My toy had been found.

But it would not stay still.So I had my fill.I stopped it using my weight.Damn, no toy at my gate.

 I tried the tunnel thing.I may eat it a bit like string.But there was nothing there.Maybe just a little cat hair.

 I took high, she took low.The toy still did not show.Where could it be?Beats little old me.

 After such a hard days work,A nap was sure a perk.We slept all day long.That toys hiding power was strong.
Did we find it you ask? I know you want an ending to our task. Yeah, Pat found out where it was when he saw the fuzz. I sorta, maybe ate it. I just ate a bit. Thankfully I was able to pass the mass out my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

It's Blog Land Issues, Break Out The Tissues!

Did you ever notice as you hop blogland that many seem to be a tad umm unique across the land? Many seem to have issues too. I guess that is just a thing in the blogland zoo.

You can tell,
After a spell,
Who has what,
Easy at your hut.

Like little old me,
With a touch of ocd.
Can tell who has it too.
As they hit every post at your zoo.

Even when away.
They come to play.
Much like the cat.
Who does just that.

Many think outside the box,
Even for long lost socks.
Always having a thought.
Not suffering from brain rot.

Ignore the one or two,
Who post at their zoo,
Saying they have nothing to say.
Attention seeker much at their bay?

Many have something wrong,
From worms to can't beat donkey kong.
With a need to vent,
They pitch a tent.

Many need to be like me,
Talk through another at their sea.
Four legs is usually the case.
If only we had thumbs at every place.

But above all I'd say,
Even with this or that on display,
And being a bit unique,
Sending so called normal, a good thing, up the creek,

Bloggers tend to be nicer than people in real life,
Who just want to cause strife.
Like the jerk at work,
Or the jerky jerk.

Unless one is a blog whore,
Then they may fit in jerk lore.
But as we hop around,
No doubt much fun is found.

Just some observations from the cat here at his blogland mat. See any yourself here and there as you hop from lair to lair? Now I have to go relieve some gas but that is nothing new for my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

The Beer Side Of The Moon In This Cartoon!

Here we are back once more. Who keeps asking for an encore? The light hearted fools keep coming back either way, as they can never find the Bora Bora bay.

But like a loon,
They can find the moon.
As in right on it,
When Truedessa has a fit.

People are on her moon.
Yep, a true loon.
But in a good way.
Or so they say.

The beer guys are there.
Stranger than at their lair.
Dressing for Halloween maybe?
Or maybe they want people to flee?

It seems they have gone insane.
Then the man in the moon causes them pain.
They get the short end of the stick.
Or was it long? Either way, ick.

Oh where that could go.
I will just let you watch below,
As they travel to the moon,
In their next cartoon.





Now wasn't that grand? Where did the beer guys get such outfits in their land? I sure hope no diaper was truly filled. If so, I'd be less than thrilled. Hey, I learned that fact over there. It is what some programmers do at their lair. When they gotta go, they just let it flow. Rather just have gas come out my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

Is Joy Simply A Ploy?

Ever notice how joy is subject to all? Of course you did at your hall. Unless you live under a rock. Then that may come as a shock. But can some things even be joy? They can't be as fun as my mouse on a string toy.

Work 80 hours a week.
It is dough you seek.
But can't spend it until you're dead.
Hmmm conundrum of dread?

Eat and eat and eat.
That is some tasty treat.
Grow the size of a tree.
Heart attack, you're dead to me.

Drive really fast,
Like the Dukes of Hazzard cast.
One little jump,
Oopsy, a crushed rump.

Drink and drink and drink.
Not the stuff from the sink.
Although that can make one shiver.
Still wave bye bye to your liver.

Buy everything you want.
Those sales just taunt.
Oopsy, broke as can be.
Goodbye house, hello tree.

Watch this and that,
24/7 at your mat.
Rump grows wider,
Death by channel spider?

Dirt, dirt and more dirt.
You would rather flirt.
That is pure gold.
Oopsy, death by mold.

Lottery tickets by the ton.
You are going to win the big one.
Hmm spent a big one,
And won nothing when done.

Dare, dare, dare.
What do you care?
Do what others say.
They aren't the ones that will drown in the bay.

Excuse, Excuse, Excuse.
Could lead to brain abuse,
Or just all of the above.
After all, do what you love.

Wow, you humans sure enjoy odd things. I would except by now you all think you have wings. One crazy spree deserves another. Did your brain get a little pillow smother? The cat would rather just eat grass. But I suppose that could choke my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.

A Little dVerse At My Sea For The Three!

So the cat hasn't played in a while, can be tough to do when you are ahead by a good long mile. But had to go and rejig a few posts at my coast as dVerse gives a three years in business toast.

The cat heard a party was had,
There at the dVerse pad.
Not sure where it was,
So I followed the buzz.

Waystationone was dry.
Where was that gawker guy?
Probably Jay Walking the Moon,
Like some crazy loon.

Or climbing a Glass Stair Case.
That would be tough to embrace.
Some True Wanderings may have been had.
Unless he feel through, then too bad.

But he must liv2write2day.
I bet he even spells it that way.
Maybe in Scarlet Verses.
I know he's not afraid of curses.

Then I saw him In the Corner of My Eye.
He was gawking upon high.
Shouting something about My Daily Spirit,
And how all should fear it.

Claudia told me he was Stardreaming with Sherry Blue Sky,
And star dust got in his eye.
It really clogged his Vision up.
He was drunk with nothing in his cup.

He was going all Inside Out Poetry,
The Gawker couldn't even see.
The cat was just upset,
A new name would be needed from the pet.

I looked for reasons.
Taking in The Course of Our Seasons.
The window for help was narrow,
Like the Feathers of an Arrow.

So the cat ran away quite quick,
To a Dwelling by the Sea for a magic brick.
Let's just say the cat cured the Gawker,
From being off his rocker.

I dropped the big brick on his toes.
He shouted everything but My Tiny Throes.
And lord and behold the Gawker could see.
All was right and no new name needed to come from me.

Who knew dVerse could throw such a fun party for the cat. I got to get violent and watch the Gawker act like a dingbat. Hmmm on second thought it could have been the rum. Either way, his toes could be rather numb. The cat was just trying to help so year four would come to pass. You can't blame my brick throwing little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.