Ruh-rho!

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Me and my big fingers!  I saw a challenge the other day, dealing with haiku.  Not only was it on specific pictures, with a theme, but also included archaic rules.  Being an early bird the day I saw it, and feeling a little cheeky, I entered two... poems?  Is haiku poetry, or what do you call the pieces?  Never mind.  Now, I entered them thinking it was just... like... a challenge.  Well... it wasn't a challenge.  It was a contest.  And the contest is usually a ladies thing, generally.  There was, I think, one other man who entered... a "poem" or "poems".  Okay, with me so far?

Well?  I won!  And... what did I win?  Ah, that.  I won hosting the haiku contest here next Monday!  What was it that comic said?  I think he was talking about being married, but... it was still funny.  Ah, right...  Are you my friend?  Do you love me?  Do you think highly of me?  Are you my friend?  Shoot me.  Run me over.  Cut off my head.  Just kill me, please!  Nah, I'll... do this.  But I have to... clean the place up to have the ladies over.  I'll hide all the stuff that scares them, put away the visions as is possible, quit thinking on the past, present, and future for a few days... until the estrogen fades.  Just... playing nice is all. 

Me and my big fat fingers, I'm telling you.  Oh, how did I win, you may ask?  When I realized it was a contest, I thought for sure that it being mostly a women's club there was no way my sort of thinking would turn the trick.  So I was relieved.  Well, the lady in charge tricked me.  She had her husband do the judging.  A husband who has much in common with your own dear Doom, at least as far as arts, aesthetics, and principles go.  Done in by my own kind, if I do understand.  Then again, I was starting suspect that the cracker dame in charge was... liking on my winning entry as well.  I think I was... well... doomed.  Like Lou Gehrig, I... should have seen that coming. 

Now to consider a reasonable topic.  Civil War II is out, probably should stay clear of weapon and military themes, ought to avoid my notions on many topics too.  But I can't just go all flowery and sweet.  I would be letting the ladies down.  Hmm, how about... taming, or identifying then taming, the beast within?  Too much?  I don't know.  It does have a nice ring to it, but so does my sword and firearms.  I am thinking...  Any... suggestions would be most welcome.  Urhm, but remember, I AM Doom, not some... granola eating tree hugger, if I have sampled both... in various ways.  Never the mind.

Oh, and despite my native traditionalism, I believe I will choose a new variation on rules, relying on Zen principles and brevity, rather than a strict adherence to 5-7-5...  Yeah, I know, but...  Shut up.  I almost heard you the first time.

Later.