Edward Hotspur and the inappropriate pun…

Today is Ed Hotspur’s birthday.  Another year older and another day wiser, huh Ed? So we have all been challenged to do this really big and complicated series of linked posts as a tribute to the man, the legend, that is Edward Hotspur. But I am a computer moron, so this sucks for me. Also, I am supposed to do something with puns. I admit that I make puns now and then, but I don’t like them. They are the lowest form of humor. People groan when they hear a pun, they don’t laugh. So whatever…

All I can say about Ed can be summed up by that world-famous Cockney psychologist, Sir ‘oward ‘iggins, when after reading some of Ed’s blog, he stated the following;

‘e’s got is ‘ed up ‘is arse, ‘e does.

So screw the puns. We all deserve better than that. Even Ed.

Ed is a man of many contradictions… by which I mean he contradicts everybody, even himself. He was born in a log cabin that was built in the basement of his parent’s huge castle. His mother had a busy social schedule, so she couldn’t be there at the time of his birth. He was delivered by a nanny… or she took the delivery from the UPS guy or something like that. The details are a little sketchy.

I can’t believe I am taking time off from my incredibly funny series of pictures of famous people wearing feety jammies to do this. But I worship the ground… and the people… that Ed’s walks all over, so…

Ed is a man of his times… but he doesn’t wear a watch, so he has no idea what that time is.

Ed is committed… visiting hours are Monday through Thursday between 4:00 and 6:00.

Ed has a brain like a sponge… totally self-absorbed.

He also has a mind like a steel trap… he used it once, it snapped shut, and now he is trapped inside.

Ed is famous for many things, but mostly for managing to con a hot woman into marrying him. That alone should give all of you lonely people hope.

So I tease Ed, even though I love him. It may just be jealousy. I have done tributes to him before, and they were so awesome that I am going to just cut and paste them right here, because it is way to early to be original and clever at the same time.


This is an ode to my friend Ed

A natural blogger born and bred

Much smarter than your average quadruped

I turn to him for my daily bread

As soon as I get out of bed

And after all his words are read

I try to figure out what the hell he said

Down all those strange paths that he has led

His thoughts bounce around inside my head

And I sometimes wonder why we haven’t fled

From his daunting intellect screaming in dread

And the darkness that his pen has bled

But to all of the light that he has shed

Like moths to a flame we seem to be wed

And we always come crawling back instead

I wrote his obituary when I thought him dead

Because I give him so much cred

Even when he makes me so mad that I see red

My need for Ed still must be fed

This is an ode to Ed Hotspur

A man whom no one calls demure

Or thinks about as insecure

If his barbed tongue you can endure

His poisoned wit that knows no cure

Those things he says to him and her

That sets about the flying fur

Trust in the fact that his motives are pure

And you will feel your heart stir

His thoughts go by in such a blur

That they are gone before you are sure

Exactly what those thoughts of his were

I have seen the result when he issues a slur

So to stay on the safe side, I just call him Sir!

He is:



Level headED

and well EDucatED

and never, ever mentally constipatED

So he should be celebratED


***(Historical Note)***

‘Edward’ comes from the Old English word meaning; ‘To move towards the Ed’ or; ‘to move towards one’s self, if you are named Ed’, but it has its roots in a much older Norse word, ‘E’, that translates roughly to mean; ‘What with the high infant mortality rate there is no sense naming the boy anything longer than that until we see if he is stout enough to stick around for a while.’

‘Hotspur’ is an Old English term that literally means; ‘He who would rather ride a horse to death than be late to the party.’

Now go visit Ed’s blog. I put a link right up there at the top. You will not be sorry. Unless you are.


See, if that doesn’t scream ‘love’, I don’t know what would. One other time Ed challenged us to write the most obnoxious obituary for him. That was a lot of fun… pretending he was dead… Here is what I came up with…————————————————————-

We will miss him…

by pouringmyartout

My good friend Ed Hotspur…


… has made it a challenge for us to all write the most fitting eulogy for his passing…

Even though he probably didn’t even have the decency to actually die…

Here is my little tribute to a big man. I hope you find some comfort in your grief…


I will miss… (wait, what was his name again?)… Ed, yeah, Ed. I mean, I really didn’t get everything he said… he sort of tried too hard, if you know what I mean… and man, that guy could be a prick when he wanted to be, but I saw moments of brilliance every so often. I liked his pictures of clouds. I think he touched all of us in some way… not always an appropriate way, but he struck a chord that wasn’t in any music book I have ever seen. He did tend to go on and on about his life, which, now that it is over, I think we can all admit wasn’t that exciting, but he did open up to us, like a flasher, even if we didn’t really ask him to…. or even when we asked him to please stop, for god’s sake. I considered Ebner to be a… (what? oh, sorry)… Edward, a friend. Our relationship blossomed, partly because we both tend to talk too much, and also because he lived far away from me, so it seemed safe enough. We used to sit for hours on those green couches in his foyer, just talking… well,I would talk, Ed just kept asking me to lay down and tell him my darkest fears and deepest fantasies, but whatever. (He did that in a weird Dick Cheney voice that sounded like Jon Stewart’s impersonation of Dick Cheney, like the Penguin from the old Batman show, but where he could have gotten the idea of Dick Cheney as a psychiatrist, I will never know)… I will admit one thing. I admired his ability to make us think, without having to do it himself. That is a rare skill. And he could do mushy, sappy, over the top poetry… (of course a lot of it he just copied from weird Japanese folk bands)… I even based a recent post on his strangely moving writings, and I think it really pissed him off that I got better reviews from all of you than he usually did… he could be quite bitter… What I like… liked… best about Mr. Hotpants… (huh? oh, my mistake)… Hotspurt… was that he would type bizarre little comments back and forth with me, playing word games, being silly, and that reminded me of my friend John, who died of brain cancer a few years back. Well, Hotspunk was no John… (except in that one morals charge case, but that was just ‘john’)… but he was the closest to John I could find… (Ironically, Hotspark told me that he always tried to stay close to a john, but I am not sure if he meant the bathroom kind, or the morals charge kind)… I am sorry that that bull killed Mr. Hotsperm… I told him he was too old for professional bull riding, and that the bulls really preferred if the riders started their rides on top of their backs, and not slung underneath, but he never listened to me)… Good luck, Mr. Hotflash, wherever you are down there. I was taught not to speak ill of the dead. And my mom always said, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all… so bye.


I think Ed has left his mark on all of us… like a dog marks his territory… and even though his little picture that he uses as an avatar or whatever you call it isn’t looking you right in the eye but rather glancing off to the side in a suspiciously shifty manner, we should all cherish our friendship with Ed.

I am sure I have written other glowing bits of praise for Ed, but even searching, cutting and pasting is too much for me right now. I am that choked up.

In order to see where this adventure of love and abuse is going to take you next, you have to choose one of the following links…




See, this is like one of those stories where you get to decide which way to turn on the path. I hope those links worked, but as I said, I am a computer moron, so…

Oh, and to see who came up with this idea, where it all started, and who is to blame, go here…


Now you can read the whole adventure from the beginning and get to know Ed better than any of his family ever bothered to…

About pouringmyartout

You will laugh at my antics... That is my solemn promise to you... Or your money back... Stop on by...
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33 Responses to Edward Hotspur and the inappropriate pun…

  1. Wow – what a tribute. Good Job!

  2. I LOVE ALL THIS STUFF! You’re awesome, sir, and I will buy your book like a book buying book buyer! And my wife also says thank you for the compliment, and she’s not sure how I conned her either, but it has to do with me dropping an apron… it’s a long story.

    I loved every single bit of this post, and all the comments, and the theme, and the font, and the little oval around the post comment button that I am about to push now. I started with Fred, just so people can track this. I saw “run on sentence or pun” and thought “Sandy or PMAO”. And here I am. Now, I’ll just follow the thing, and hope someone has a master list so I can read all of the post story thingies.

  3. Anonymous says:

    Dear Ed, Art has advised us that this is in fact the day of your birth…if possible, give flowers to your Mum…I’m sure that wasn’t an easy day for her back then… Also, this is the Chinese year of the Snake….make the most of it! Happy Birthday!

  4. Nicole Marie says:

    Beautiful! A fitting tribute for an insane man we all love.

  5. GingerSnaap says:

    Mr. Blueberry Head, this was AWESOME!! Hahahahhahahaa!

  6. Great job with the Hotspurian Ode!

  7. Pingback: Edward Hotspur And The Erotic Haze Turning Interstellar Nether Regions Japanese | sandylikebeach

  8. Red says:

    Smooth obit.

    Happy birthday, EH.

  9. El Guapo says:

    I hope Hotspur is so overcome with emotion at this post that he doesn’t catch that last line where you outed me.

    Happy birthday Hotspur!

  10. Pingback: Edward Hotspur and the Birthday Wishes | Guapola

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