Archive for December 19th, 2009


The Amplified Shakespeare: Sonnet 18

December 19, 2009

When I think Sonnet 18, I think goatees and arm hair.

A new generation of children are now surfing the internet, often without a moral compass. Who will help steer these youngsters toward education and edification? The TMZ’s of the world? AO-fucking-L?

Never let it be said that Fancy Plans didn’t “think of the children,”  as we proudly present the legendary works of Shakespeare (current record-holder: Most Required Reading List Appearances) in their mostly original glory.

Oh, and FJ practically dared me to do it. So there’s that. Enjoy.

Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and slightly less humid:
Unless we speak of Arizona,
In which case, thou art a triple-digit dry heat:

Quoth the Bard, Bob Dylan,
The times they are a-changin’,
But not for Arizona,
Where time stands still twice a year:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And Summer’s lease hath been violated:
Perhaps with noise complaints,
Perhaps with bathtub meth explosions:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And rends my skin from the bones with chemical burns:

And every fair from fair sometime declines,
Due to wandering tweakers and cinder-block’d Camaros:
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d,
Much like the lawn and hedges:
And thyself, truth be told,
I shall off to the Walgreens for an Epi-lady:

But thy eternal Summer shall not fade
Like Macauly Culkin from the public mind;
Resurfacing in familial lawsuits and unbidden dreams,
Where was I?
Oh, yes…

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
$200 cash; dealers don’t take checks,

Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
He’s off to check Pete Doherty’s pulse for the thousandth time,
And when he returns, he’ll need a nap,
And a beer:
And so shall I

Shall I seduce thee with a selection from my LiveJournal,
I’ve borrowed a bit from the past but altered it slightly;

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee

Beautiful, isn’t it?
I see your eyes are misty and your guard is down:
Shall we to the old man’s Ford?
Or mayhap behind the bushes?
Not so much the cellar,
Because locking door or not,
Your parents are light-sleepers;
And heavily armed:

Perhaps one more from my LiveJournal before we retire:

Face down, ass up
That’s the way we like to fuck