Who Is Jack Schitt?

Something I came across recently and thought it was funny...


WHO IS JACK SCHITT?

For some time many of us have wondered, who is Jack Schitt?
We find ourselves at a loss when someone says, you don't know Jack Schitt!
Well thanks to my genealogy efforts, you can now respond in an intellectual way.

Jack Schitt is the only son of Awe Schitt.
Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, who married O. Schitt, the owner of Kneedeep N. Schitt Inc.
They had one son, Jack.
In turn, Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt. The couple had six children: Holie Schitt, Giva Schitt, Fulla Schitt, Bull Schitt, and the twins Deep Schitt and Dip Schitt.

Against her parents objections, Deep Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a highschool drop out.
After being married 15 years, Jack and Noe Schitt divorced. Noe Schitt later married Ted Sherlock, and because her kids were living with them, she wanted to keep her previous name. She was then known as Noe Schitt Sherlock.

Meanwhile, Dip Schitt married Loda Schitt, and they produced a son with a rather nervous disposition, named Chicken Schitt. Two of the other six children, Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt were inseperable throughout childhood and subsequently married the Happens brothers in a dual ceremony. The wedding announcement in the newspaper announced the Schitt-Happens nuptials. The Schitt-Happens children were Dog, Byrd and Horse.

Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world. He recently returned home with his new Italian bride, Pisa Schitt.


Now, when someone says you don't know Jack Schitt, you can correct them!

Sincerely,

Croc O. Schitt

Pretending

Recently published in the spring edition of the Greensilk Journal

http://www.thegsj.com/stories_1_spring_2012.html

This night is filled with a beauty not descriptive with mere words. And none are spoken. The moon shines radiantly akin to a romantic candle on a table set for two. The stars plentiful play the supporting cast of ambiance for the prelude for a night of pleasure. The backdrop of the evening sky presents as a curtain dividing two lovers from the calamity of the outside world. Silence can give us such beautiful sounds as harmony overshadows distortion. With less to hear, more is heard, as unspoken is the language of lovers. It is not the cool breeze which causes my shivers but the anticipation of your touch. It is not in the prospect of earthly pleasure that causes my heart to palpitate, but the knowledge that we will find that place yet go farther. As my eyes focus to find you moving towards the light, I am suspended as a dream begins to unfold to reality. A silhouette at first, moving slowly and elegantly and treating each step as precious. Then out of the darkness, I suddenly feel as transparent as the sheer that now covers your body.

With that first touch you breathe in. A second has me sighing. I kiss your lips soft and moist. Begging for more, we shed our garments and then our inhibitions. My impulses pulsing and urges that urge me on. My fingers caress through your hair then with fingertip touches gentle, to more guarded places. You rise to meet me face to face. Whispering in my ear, I take charge obediently. Soon our bodies rhyme to perfect rhythm as two hearts beat in time with one another. Two lost in one moment and lost in a passionate embrace. There is no tomorrow, just the here and now. Time passes with emotions finally spent. We lay drenched in satisfaction as the lusting animal is re-caged. And soon tenderness avails.

The morning nudges me gently as I wake to find you still by my side. Still trapped in our passionate embrace, my thoughts wander as I am aroused. Your essence remains on my skin while the night’s memories become etched in my mind. Our bodies once heated are now tempered with a morning breeze that flows effortlessly through an open window. In the distance I can hear the songs of the Blue Bird excited. It sings of a beautiful morning that should not be wasted. My thoughts continue to linger until the breeze carries them away. Glancing my way, your lips part a smile as our eyes meet to greet each other and the new day. As my hand retraces curves once discovered and inviting, you stir and two bodies once again become entangled. The morning could not be ignored but for a little longer, it would be made patient.

I can smell the aroma of coffee freshly brewed as we both come alive yet at our own pace. Outside the world has had a head start, but we have our short cut to paradise. The sand on the beach feels warm and inviting and every step feels like a first. The water is frigid yet refreshing as the sand between our toes washes away with the tide. As a morning breeze compliments the warming sun, two lovers revel in these times and friendship. Two hands touch and hold on carefree with an occasional kiss for times made less busy. It is serenity I find in your calming effect as my eyes see beautiful and you are always in focus. These are moments that seem timeless to me as I am in love with a love affair always in need of rekindling. My worries are distant when you are near and so for now, this day belongs to you and I.

We spent the rest of the day exploring the beach and exploring our emotions. For whatever we could not understand of this world or of each other, we just accepted. With no eagerness for the future and no regrets for the past, we embrace who we are in the moments allowing.

At the day’s end and the sun now setting, I am alone and my thoughts are still of you. It was the most memorable of days and I wish you could have been here with me. And this heart of mine is still pretending.

Layers

Copyrighted@RobMason2012

Having only scratched the surface
Like levelling topsoil
Not unearthing what lies beneath
Dare not deeper than that
In the bellows
I am a volcano dormant
Yet the molten lava flows impatient
Combustible is the fuel of revenge
The layers containing for now
I am man made
My emotions are a natural disaster
Difficult in containing
My best is weathering the storm
With luck all remains dormant
Hot eventually cools
Layered and deferred for now
I am best cold as a stone

Copacetic

Copyrighted@RobMason2012

Almost touching the intangible
New horizons now within myself
Where once abated
Through unnatural forces
Nearer to the end
Finally feeling what I cannot see
My needs have become exigent
Even defined eluctable
Nothing that defines pecuniary
I wish to bask in a greater wealth
With my imagination now flexuous
I can bend borders
To then see parallels
As if reaching into the unknown
I reach beyond myself
My thoughts prevail temerarious
The contradiction
To my cimmerian tendencies
I am a simple that defines complex
Almost unique
I am indisputably me

Etching Hope/The 99th Draft

Copyright@RobMason2012


Scratching words of inspiration
My mentations in fading ink
A messenger
Keeping nothing for myself
Inscribing hope
When despair seems ubiquitous

                           Not all has been squandered
                           The hour is late
                           But it is not lost
                           Cloaked in constant bedlam
                           What remains curative
                           Can once again be binding

It is not written on the wall
But etched in our hearts
Mere words can never be amending
Only a leap of faith
Simultaneous
In conduct becoming
No more the spectator
No more a time for words

When Death Introduces Itself

Copyrighted@RobMason2012


My anticipation has long since dissipated
Left only with anxiety
Petrified from predetermined
Yet still thinking of the "What if"
Everything is problematic
From primary to secondary
From once acute to chronic
Multiplied exponentially
Never doubting the "What"
Only the "when"
While knowing it will be worse
I have procrastinated
Now feeling the consequences
In contempt perhaps with arrogance
And maybe something more
Complacency more than crept
Other things were creeping also
The yesterdays were a prerequisite
Today is a mere formality
My future arriving too soon
Ironically
My past still lingers

Finding The Feminist Parsnickety

Copyrighted@RobMason2012


I dream only in increments
Loving in moments
A promise is always forever
Yet forever is far too long
Different lies catches our eyes
A simplicity of creating new colours
Love is confusing enough
Without life getting in the way
I see fields of endless hue
Of greens and golds and clear waters
Seeing my skies romantic
Then like clouds
I watch life pass me by
If there is an improper purpose
I define it
When life is akin to death
I cannot deny it
Little boys will grow into men
After that
They learn to dream again

Singing Myself Away

Copyrighted@RobMason2012


As if an unwelcomed tourist
Feeling ensnared in a foreign land
With landscape unrecognizable
Around and around
My life in a circular motion
I am the rat in the maze
And my senses have failed me
Once there were wrong turns
Now directional is inconsequential
I remain out of sorts
Out of bounds
Running out of time
Yet always I am a runner
Collecting clues
Guessing at the riddles
My mind is always racing
Still my life presents idle
All for the whims of my masters
Ordered to dance and sing
Void of balance
Always singing out of tune
Still sometimes
I dream myself to sleep
Sometimes
I sing myself away

The Answers I Already Know

Copyrighted@RobMason2012

Presenting with no anticipation
Feeling only anxiety
Petrified with what's predetermined
Yet thinking of the "What if"
Everything is problematic
From primary to secondary
Of acute to chronic
Multiplied exponentially
Never doubting the "What"
Only curious of the end
And knowing it will be worse
I have presented as asinine
Constantly procrastinating
Feeling consequences
In contempt or perhaps arrogant
And maybe something more
Complacency more than crept
Other things were creeping too
Yesterday a prerequisite
Today a formality
My arriving far too soon
All the while my past lingers

Colouring Black And White

Copyrighted@RobMason2012


It is hidden in the broader canvass
Most often allowed to blend
With receptors trained and rewarded
Sharing commonality
With our eyes that focus
Seeing only what we find bonny
Yet never suddenly
A successful rouse takes time
Planting the seed of obfuscation
Becoming rooted
Then like wild grass
It is never easy to contain
Yet truth's habit is to linger
It even changes the writing on the wall
Capable of reading between lines
We read more of ourselves
And we don't wish to
As with a lie a truth also needs a hero
That singular voice sounding courageous
Let that one paint the bigger picture
With another broad canvass colourful
We remain amicable to the blending