Still Figurin' Out Who I Think I Am

This one's about the Rhett.

Hey y'all...if you asked me earlier today to write a fancy (but bad) poem, I probably would have done it. But it's football Sunday, I've been through another down-to-the-wire finish for my hometown team, and now I'm having problems deciding if I should eat, nap, or eat then nap. Yeah, football can do that to you...especially when you've bitten most of what's left of your nails off thinking your team actually still has a chance in the last two minutes to win but you've seen this story so many times before and don't want to set yourself up for a disappointing outcome once again.

Yeah, that was my day. Got bored with pathetic football, bounced back and forth and back again between Twitter and WDC, and now there's a prompt for "Invalid Item" ...meanwhile, I've forgotten that I don't know shit about poetry forms and all the sharp rules and regulations that come along with them. Have I said that before? It's gonna be a recurring theme I figure.

By the way, don't judge me for getting a little too anxious about football. If some of y'all can get jacked up Harry Pottering your way through a teenager's fictional wizardry over the course of what is it...seven books, you can put up with me watching football for a few hours on a Sunday and leaving my thoughts on it where I choose to. At least I'm watching real people do real things.

Anyway, here's the Round 3 prompt...gimme a minute to do some research on Ottava Rima poems: "MONSTER: Witch; COCKTAIL: Rhett Butler; Required Form: Ottava Rima - minimum 2 octive - if you do three you'll get to bob for apples in the spit 'n' snot bucket! An Ottava Rima is a poem written in 8-line octives. Each line is of a 10 or 11 syllable count in the following rhyme:

one octive poem. abababcc
two octive poem. abababcc, dededeff
three octive poem. abababcc, dededeff, ghghghii".

Rhett Butler couldn't keep it in his pants
but he knew what he was talking about.
He asked Scarlett anyway for a dance
and got her dad drunk in the old Dirty South.
When you're in with the dad you've got a chance;
but he sells Scarlett out, the douchebag lout.
And that's when I lost interest in this book...
as a high school kid it gave me no hook.

Rhett Butler gets all "smitten emo boy",
while Scarlett turns into a cash-money witch.
Say what you will about men and emojis,
but maybe Scarlett's letter was deserv-ed.
Hard for me to say either way though; oi!
Historical fiction isn't my gig.
Seems like they get what they want in the end...
poor examples if you ask me, my friends.

Yes, I know...horrible poem for all the wrong reasons, and some of the right ones too. I'll admit it...I never read The Scarlett Letter in school, because it bored me. I was too concerned with seeing how great I could be at bullshitting my way through English classes with sick-ass great grades. We're talkin' about the same pieces of literature here, right? Because I'm fully accepting my laziness and not doing anymore work today. Was Gone With The Wind a book too? Please tell me it was based on The Scarlett Letter...now I'm so embarrassed because I don't know books or movies. Ok, not that embarrassed, because I kinda don't care. I mean, I cared enough to do this and spent a lot of time on counting syllables again on my fingers (my poor fingers...they must hate me for this ), but it's not the end of the world if people like it or not. Understand, I'm still learning this whole "bad poetry" concept. Don't judge me...remember, I watch football and you maybe read YA novels religiously and we both get all "up here" about those activities that have zero intersection whatsoever. Sounds like it's all good to me.

Sonuvabitch. Coulda sworn I had music on iTunes that referenced either Rhett Butler or Scarlett O'Hara, but nothing comes up in searches. Damn. Plan B it is then: since "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn" is a beloved movie quote from the Rhett himself, I'm going with a favorite movie quote of my own in song-title form.

"One night
doesn't mean the rest of my life."
Lyrics and interpretations.  

17-16 Still not completely over Buffalo beating Minnesota today and wondering why I still watch football in the first place because of seeing that game. I don't even wanna talk about it. All I know is an hour into the game I was thinking "the one day I allow myself to overindulge when I've got classes the next day, there's not gonna be enough beer in the fridge to make this any better...but I can't stop watching". Mondays are always better when the Bills win, but please, if there's any kind of lord above or below or anywhere, cut the shit with the last-minute wins. Gimme a blowout win over a team you're sposta beat, with your feared defensive line against a rookie QB...not this mail-biting stuff and your top two RB's get carted off the field- crying...no seriously, crying- because of injury. Please, let next Sunday's game against the Jets be a good ol' divisional rompin' that this team on paper should be able to do. Not just sayin' that 'cuz I'm a fan, or I've had blood pressure issues in the past. I'm a #Billiever.

I don't even know what else to talk about...had to restart the laptop again today because of Windows updates, so of course I had to close everything down, saved the few links I had open to the Pocket app, and now I don't feel like going there to retrieve it all because it's full of shit I saw on Twitter today as well. Remember...it's ok to run your mouth all day about your favorite books and movies, and I put up with it even though I probably couldn't give a damn, so you people need to accept that for 16 Sunday afternoons a year (ok, 15, and one Thursday night) I'll be giving you the same treatment I see when crappy fictional televional whatevers are on. I get it; zombies are cool and all, and that dude finally let the air out the mother-meeting bag, and lordy lordy that shitty 90's movie is now on a cable network (and censored to practical pointlessness) and you can't imagine why you never liked it in the first place. Cool story, yo. You got your problems; I got mine...and they're centered around a drinking town's football problem. Still got mad love for you cats though. Peace, let go because I'm afraid to try, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!