Phone Home, or ?

“Our daily lives are so mundane, we get taken over by what is immediately in front of us and we don’t see beyond that” Benedict Cumberbatch


Phone Home, or ?

A dialer device
From a different era
Had to suffice
Let me tell ya
An analog connection
No visual perception
No texting
Sure no sexting
Just a calling machine
The only mean
For ancient times
But oh how time flies
Now we all have
A mobile device

Que Sera, Sera

Camping in style

“When camping, do it in style, camp style” Gun Roswell

Camping in style

When the bug hits you
It’s not so easy to refuse
When the great open wide beckons
It’s really the time to reckon
Whether to pack for a trip long
Or just a few days going strong
Camping can be cool in a van
But a trip on a bike
With just enough gear to hike
Beats the mundane bed
When sleeping on the ground instead
But the ultimate luxury
For a weekend trip on a hurry
Is a caravan from the beyond
Call it campy camping fun
But the looks received will secure the pun
In a seventies vehicle
Of a trip quite memorable

Black Friday – The Finnish Way

“I hope your Black Friday injuries aren’t so severe that you can’t click a mouse on Cyber Monday.”


Black Friday

“Bright light, bright light!”

“Oh my God, what is that?”

“Holy hell, is it a flying saucer?”


The masses had come out from their homes and workplaces staring and pointing up at the unidentified bright light high up in the sky. Some rumours had circulated, stating Finland had fallen under attack by UFOs.

In the corner of the street, a lonesome believer was preaching:

“The end of the world as we know it, is upon us!”

That day, was the first day of the month March.


Several months earlier:


It was the beginning of October. The land had fallen under darkness. As if an evil warlock had cast a spell. Sour faces all around, no expressions, as if away blurred. Hardly any sound could be heard. People on the streets, dragging their feet. The lust for life, all sucked out.
First of March

An unidentified source of light had appeared in the skies.

“The sun”, someone said, as the onlookers stood before her, bewildered.

“It is called the sun” she stated again with a smile.

But the other just shook their heads in disbelief.

Still, turning their collective faces towards “the sun”. And, as by a wave of a magic wand, the crowd closed their eyes in unison and enjoyed that sacred moment. A collective sigh of content was the only sound heard.

For who knew, how long this would last…


On the edge, or a tall order

“Nothing can save us now, except coffee” Gun Roswell

On the edge, or a tall order

When that specific mood hits
And you are standing on the ledge
Close enough to jump
Take that one final plunge
In good or bad the need of courage
Is like eating a bowl of too hot porridge
Some say it just may
Be that of a one too tall order
Alas a savior at hand
Just there, were, you stand
A tall glass of the darkest of liquids
Will never let you quit

Some kind of weather

“It’s always too hot or too cold, never good, the weather that is!” Gun Roswell

Some kind of weather

It’s way too cold, for an outing, of any kind
As the right kind of clothing, is no where, for me to find
The temperature dropped in a flash of a chime
Yeah, not quite accurate description of the on going time
But where ever the weather, is concerned
The rhymes do not matter, when ever is their turn
Because what is more annoying for this day
Is the way the temperature keeps my mood in dismay
Plummeting from a good natured warm type of cool
Into a slippery and mind freezing, mouth kind of drool
One day shorts, the next day, really thick wool?
Yeah, you hear me weather gods, you think I am a fool
Now, I am totally and utterly going to quit
And instead in my own little shack the whole day sit
Crank up the thermostat to a nice tropical warm
Wont’ even look out the window, so bring on your storm
For I, have officially had it:
Whit this ever changing not very good kind of weather shit
So thanks again for bringing on your wrath
And the turmoil filled climate change to our narrow little path

(OK, so it maybe just a tiny bit our fault,
But if you cannot blame someone else, then what is the point ;))

Mr Diesel’s Adventures on Caturday

Caturday presents, the honorary Caturday guest, Mr Diesel

“Dogs are like kids. Cats are like roommates.”
― Oliver Gaspirtz, A Treasury of Pet Humor


Hiding myself

I feel shy today
Alone in this place
They made me stay

So just read my face
It’s clearly splayed
I won’t be swayed
To stay in this place
One more day!


Cat vs. Dog

“A cat fight or a dog day afternoon, I say put these two together, call it, a cat-dog fight afternoon, because that is what you sometimes get with these two in one place” Gun Roswell

Cat vs. Dog

The cat, sitting quite coolly, in the left side corner
Instead of boxing gloves, the sharp nails are out in order
Carefully watching the opponent on the far right
Knowing, anticipating, the beginning of a good fight

The dog, licking it’s paws, in the right side of the ring
Unaware, of the constant stare, of the opponent so daring
Taking it’s time, then, in one swift move of the chime
The dog clear’s it’s mind and is ready for the good fight

The two so different enteritis now sparring each other
Keeping an keen eye on the one, who could cause the trouble
Moving slowly around, close enough, but still no contact
The two of them, ready, for the good fight, but still, remaining untouched

Minutes pass, maybe even an hour, but the same thing still repeats
Neither of them will attach, but neither will either retreat
It goes on and on, both of them, trying to be the one so strong
But then, something happens, as if of the ring of the bell of the dong

The two of them jump up, in one synchronized move of dare
Their eyes glare, flare gone, only the sign remains that of scare
They glance around, now both of them in common ground
The will of the good fight, all but gone and a unified stance found

Staying alert, covering each others backs
The cat and dog, low on the ground duck
Nothing seen, so far all good, maybe presuming the good fight they should
But out of the blue, there is a new clue

The air now thick with anticipation
Both cat and dog have a sense of hesitation
Fight of flight, that is the question, until, a familiar sound:

“Bingo, Spot, come get your din din!”

Rushing towards the promised reward
The cat and dog, side by side, soar
Nothing but munching sounds of soften
It seems, the age old fight all forgotten

Sharing their food in complete content and utter silence
After all, what is the point of violence
When the keeper of the cat and dog so kindly
Will do their bidding, without even whining