There once was a goddess Pomona
who was so hot she gave me a …
Screw it, let me step away from this limerick.
I’m gonna make this very painful and it won’t be quick.
Hi, my name is Tonner and I’m a PC but please see
that while I’m PC, I’m also a Mac
and a Mac on attack can hit like a Mack Truck
or the Union Pacific if I keep you on track —
You say you’re a goddess? That’s absurd
’cause when I asked around,
ain’t nobody I know has heard of you. Not one clue.
You’re Roman? What, the Greeks outsource you too?
Nevermind that now —
would you be a sweet Senorita
and use some of that fruit and make me a margarita?
Patrick, you’re drunk. Go home.
That’s what they should have put on your tombstone.
You’re a mortal, I’m a goddess. I’m not worried ’cause I’ve got this.
I’ll beat you from your house on 5th to the Phillips Mansion
and shove my marble foot up your Tonner Canyon.
So you see, I’m not about to raise the alarms
for the guy on the front of a box of Lucky Charms.
You’re a lawyer, teacher, poet, realtor —
You’re not a renaissance man, you need a guidance counselor
to help you decide what you want to be when you grow up
or at least come at me with better rhymes than what you’ve thrown up.
Man, you were on both sides of prohibition, show some contrition.
Better yet, you need intercession ’cause you’ve just been dissected —
This here’s vivisection. You don’t mess with a goddess, I’m tired of debates —
to reboot this PC, I’ve got Solomon Gates.
That retort was a disaster. You say you’re marble but you crumble like plaster.
Speaking of Gates, did you ever pay the poor bastard?
He can’t hurt me ’cause like Jackie Chan, I’m the Drunken Master.
I can go from whimsical to satirical, from metaphorical to literal
and when I speak all metaphysical your blank stare is clearly quizzical.
The society, hysterical — my laughter, maniacal — but before we hit critical
with evidence empirical, with these words rhythmic and lyrical
I better slow this down ’cause battle rapping Goddesses is unnatural.
You’re going to kick my ass when it’s all done?
With which foot, the big one or the small one?
You’re not a flawless copy, you’ve got a glaring blunder.
Who the hell is Cipriani, the Italian Stevie Wonder?
You brought a cornucopia to a rap battle. I brought thunder
and you’ll be deafened when an entire city is compelled to applaud
when I take down their goddess with an elephant god.
I’m not scared of you and I’m not scared of Dumbo either.
I’ve been more intimidated by a Walmart greeter.
Diss my feet, you better check your pulse
You’ll get a boot to the head from both Biggie AND Smalls
And I’ll kick your McNuggets, take my time, no need to hurry
you’re the only guy I know who puts bourbon in a McFlurry.
Are you paying attention? Are you even conscious?
Last time I saw a beating this bad, it was sentenced by Pontious.
I want it to be known and perfectly understood
that before you got here, you got yourself kicked out of the priesthood
and I’m sure we all want to know what went on in your head
did you leave for your principles or are you like Michael and Jared?
Allegedly. That’s not character assassination, I’m just asking
if this is the kind of stuff you like to call multi-tasking
’cause there is nowhere to hide, we’ve just watched your unmasking.
Yo soy Don Ricardo de Clan Vejar
Anyone try to battle, te va a pagar.
Nacho, think you’re all hard when you’re stepping forth
what, now you’re like Tacho Into the Beautiful North
but ain’t nothin wrong with your rainbow connection
you just gotta quit with this land grab obsession
I’ve got a verbal gun to your head just waiting for the beat to stop
so I can pull the damn trigger and watch Iggy Pop.
Cállate Ricky, you got some splainin to do
Tischler showed me your tab, that’s a big IOU
I’ll take you up to the hills, you broke-ass Vejar
you’ll disappear from The View like your name was Joy Behar
Let’s see, there’s Santa, the Chupacabra, and the tooth fairy
Your legacy’s just like them, man, purely imaginary.
My house is historical. My name is on a cemetery.
Your rhymes are simply comical and sick like dysentery.
How are you gonna scare me with your clumsy words,
your name literally translates to a house for birds.
Your verse is perverse and I don’t fear your wrath
You’re name’s on a school where the kids suck at math.
You’ve got yourself a cemetery, that’s worth walking tall?
Let’s see how famous you are when they turn your tomb into a strip mall
We don’t have much time so let me put this to bed
We were the Dons of San Jose, you’re just the Don of the Dead
D.R.V. you so gangsta, I almost feel bad though
’cause when they ask where you from, you have to say San Diego
and seriously, man, how are you even in this battle
you’ve lost your home, your land, and all of your cattle.
Like that one guy in Upland, you’re like “where’s the beef?”
We were friends a long time, now you’re comic relief.
It took me a while but I just got why you called me Nacho
here’s a couple of bucks, go get some at Del Taco.
“That’s great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, an aeroplane…”
— REM, “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)
Science makes predictions. If I drop my mouse from my table, it should fall down. I can test this prediction (and occasionally do — absolutely intentionally, of course) to satisfy my curiosity. Knowledge of, nor faith in gravity is not a requirement for my mouse to fall. This is not a Bugs Bunny cartoon. My dedication to the continuous advancement of science often demands that I test this prediction constantly, and sometimes in the most inconvenient ways. Does an egg obey the law of gravity when I intentionally let it slip from my hand as I take the experimental mass from the fridge? Does lip balm fall from my pocket as I take a pen out? Will a hard drive hover in mid-air after dropping it? Unfortunately not.
Having said this, a religious organisation has made a prediction that the world would end today. 6pm on the hour, every hour as each time zone hits that time. Earthquakes, zombies, the gullibles being beamed up into another dimension. You know, the works. The great thing about this is that the same group had predicted the same event back in the mid-90’s and they were wrong then. From the newscast today, it looks like they’re wrong again.
I won’t go into the “problems and the hows and whys” of such thought and blind faith here, but instead present an odd sense of admiration for this religious organisation. They had the courage and conviction to proclaim loudly — “This is what we believe, and this is important. This is our testable prediction!” Not too many religious groups out there doing that.
If we are to be consistent in this scientific study, we evaluate this theory using the observable experiment we have been presented. If the prediction fails, the theory is incorrect. We move on. The world did not end, there are no zombies walking around, the gullibles are still here. Will they re-evaluate their theory? That is a psychological experiment…and I predict the answer is “no.”
At any rate, I’ve had the roast beef sandwich at the Cafe At The End Of The Universe, and it was good.