milf deconstructed (a poem)

Marriage: Years 1-5

Each day, cotton candy fluffy marshmallow clouds

floating between comments of “I love you” and “You’re beautiful honey”

hubby home from work, healthy dinner served,

glass of $50 wine that is difficult to pronounce so it must be fucking great

Tongue down throat, barely make it to the bed, face in the pillow

deep, penetrating cock inside you like he “fucking means it” love making, so in love his sweat tastes like cupids own saliva

true, fucking, love

smile like a clown as you walk outside to get the mail,

waving stupidly at the neighbors with your “the world is mine” look

because your life is better, your BMW is newer, your skin is tighter

you still stay up past 11 each night

and don’t yet know about Lifetime movies

Years: 6-10

The cotton candy begins to stick to your fingers now,

damp from the low hanging clouds circling above

3 kids now and damn you are tired

Hubby still hasn’t responded to your “hope you had a good lunch” text

such a foolish ruse

when you really wanted to text “is she prettier than me, does she taste better than me?”

he sees directly through your less tanned, heavier hanging skin bull shit

it pisses you off, but you stay silent

Dinner, hit start on the microwave and watch the lasagna spin around like a good American,

but don’t get too close, the radiation may fuck with the botulism in your lips

“He used to kiss me all the time,” that voice whispers in your head as you stare at the cheese bubbling over the paper towel you placed on top

But then, a text!!!! Some excitement, a little clit tingle, just like old times

“Don’t forget to walk the dog, don’t want him pissing the rug again,” he typed

Crushed again

Hubby home, eats dinner on the couch watching Fox News and bitching about Mexicans, niggers and why Obama sucks giant donkey dicks

he takes his laptop in the bathroom for another 40 minute shit as you clean up behind him, you dive in to that box of Franzia wine the neighbor brought over for your birthday

you taste the plastic and cardboard grapes, but are indifferent

settle into the couch and watch “Cyber Seduction; His Secret Life”

cry yourself to sleep again

Years: 10-???

Kids don’t listen, hubby has more “meetings” than ever

random text from a 20-something hussy saying that your hubby’s cock tastes old and he’s a fucker, says he won’t leave your wrinkled ass like he keeps promising,

something about the kids or some other lame cheating excuse used a million times before by all the other pussy chasers

you hit “delete”, pretend the text was a mistake as you park your minivan and go in for you ass-bleaching appointment, no tears

next day, different doctor for mysterious soft tissue back injury to get that oxy prescription

at least the pills make the boxed wine taste better

two months since you’ve seen hubby’s dick,

Jesus the lawn guy is beginning to look like Erik Estrada now,

just like an old porno, ask him if he’s thirsty, invite him inside

bad carpet, bad music, face back in the pillow

it doesn’t count if you don’t kiss with tongue,

his sweaty hand on the back of your neck

“So this is what is used to be like,” that voice whispers “So this is what it used to be like.”

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tired (a poem)

220px-Street_gutter_in_Old_Town_Stockholmtired of the rhyming bull-shit, flowery, gentle hugs

of today’s poetry

tired of sunshine beams, rainbows with comfortable temps.

i want smelly hooker, dark alley cum-stained fingers

feeling up the innocents, making mouths gape, screaming for help and

thrown into the stank puddles reflecting the gutters of real life.

tired of feel good dreams, idealistic dreams, dreams that only enlighten 1%.

i want the dejected, the forgotten, the pushed aside, the foreheads with spit dripping down into an eye that’s been forced shut for too long.

i want welfare, bad cheese, half smoked cigs, Boones farm cheap-ass wine, i want 40 ounces of beer that smells like homeless ass

that makes the bowels remember who is on the bottom rung.

i want real pain, i want real emotion, i want a real experience from someone on this fucking planet.

tired of all the happy shit,

it’s ok not to smile.

I Love Hispanics

(Given the current political climate regarding immigration, I feel this will always be relevant)

I live in Florida and I constantly hear people bitching about the Hispanic population here.  And I’m tired of it.  Personally I like most Hispanics and here are 10 reasons why:

    1. They work hard
    2. They contributed to nearly all residential/commercial construction in Florida
    3. Their food absolutely kicks ass
    4. Univision has some of the hottest women I’ve ever seen (i watch it on mute)
    5. Their midget wrestling cracks me up
    6. They are genuinely nice people (from my experiences)
    7. They are incredibly gifted coke dealers
    8. Did I mention the midget wrestlers???
    9. Half of them are named “Jesus”
    10. They are stupendous landscapers.

This is mostly tongue-n-cheek, but seriously, I will take a Hispanic any day over a dumb ass redneck, white trailer trash or black trash.  I do get tired of them not paying any taxes though and how can each male claim 8 on their withholding? Damn clever.

The Selfie Generation

selfieI feel lucky to have been a teenager in the 90’s when social media was actually having to converse face to face with people.  I have teen-aged daughters and I’m watching this FacebookInstaChatSnapGram live from the front row.

And I have to say I feel sympathy for them.  My wife and I do an excellent job of monitoring their social media and we remain steadfast in being proactive with their lives.  But damn, this shit is amazing.

I can only imagine how my life would have been different if I had today’s technology while I was in high school:

*Every time I drank a beer, smoked some weed or said something shitty about someone, it would be right out on front street. 

*It was so much easier to be able to just talk behind peoples’ backs without fear of being recorded. 

*It was so much easier to pass out drunk without having to worry about becoming the next Vine video of a drunk asshole with dicks drawn on his cheeks in permanent marker. 

*It was so much easier to egg someone’s house and root their yard up without fear of it being taped by Verizon home security cameras. 

*It was so much easier to tell my parents I was going to my friend Tom’s house even though I was meeting a girl for sex and not have to worry about an app on my cell phone telling them exactly where I was. 

*It was so much easier to apply for a job and not worry that the prospective employer already knew everything about me that I was trying to hide.

I think what saddens me the most is that as we become more technologically advanced we seem to become lazier, less intelligent and desensitized to everything that damages us.

Maybe I will post that last thought on Facebook and see how many “likes” I can get.

Political Limericks

“Barry”

There once was a man named Obama
His daddy was black not his mamma
He won the election
Cuz of his off-white complexion
Now all of the whities are in trauma

“Rush”
There once was a man named Rush Limbaugh
He turned into a pill eating dildo
But his maid did tell
When her check didn’t swell
And off to rehab did he go

“The Reverend”
There once was a reverend named Jackson
Who walked the fine lines of attraction
His dick it did stray
To another woman they say
Now his wife gets the last satisfaction

China- Still Winning

reese-witherspoon-cancels-fallon-appearance-after-arrestI argue with people quite often about the current health of American Society.  And when I use the term “health”, I mean the current state of the American people as an educated society.

I poke fun at my country and often say that China is winning.  So today, I went to a website visited daily by millions of Americans just to keep up with current events.

According to TMZ, this is what Americans care about today:

Story 1- Reese Witherspoon’s infamous “you are going to know who I am,” moment.  Ah Reese, so nice to see you putting into practice all that legal knowledge from your Legally Blonde movies.

Apparently, millions of Americans care about a washed-up actress who thinks she’s better than all the sheep who watch her movies.  Your husband was drunk, shut the fuck up and obey the cop.  Newsflash- Georgia cops don’t give a fuck about Hollywood.

Story 2- “Teen Mom Farrah Working Another Pole”  HOLY FUCKING SHIT.  Here is a girl who was on television for breeding too early.  When her tiny pinch of fame began to dissipate, she decided to follow in the steps of Kim Kardashian and make a fuck movie.

BRILLIANT.  Hey America, all you have to do for fame is fuck somebody, video tape it and then pretend you had no idea your bleached asshole was on the internet.

Story 3- Only 3 Words Necessary– LINDSAY…..FUCKING….LOHAN.  I didn’t get past the headline, but I assume it has to do with court, drugs, lawyer and rehab.

In the interest of time, I’m going to stop there because the next stories are essentially a regurgitation of the first ones.  Only the names are different.

So America, don’t bitch when China takes over and we are eating fried golden retriever puppy nuggets, taking rickshaws to work at a factory making cheap, plastic toys for Wal Mart.

I warned you.  China is still winning.

Ode to Mountain Dew

(I thought I would re-post this for some of my newer followers and since I continue to struggle with this addiction)

According to Wikipedia, in 1940 two Tennessee beverage bottlers named Barney and Ally Hartman invented the formula for Mountain Dew. 

Below is my tribute to those two fine men:

I walked into the 7-11 and quickly made my way to the back of the store where the drink coolers are located.  Immediately, I could see it staring back at me.

The 12-ounce, green canned goddess looking into my eyes.

It was screaming, “touch me, open me, drink me down you dirty boy.  I won’t quench your thirst, but I taste so good, so slippery and so sugary.  Everyone is drinking me, just take me, take me now.”

I couldn’t resist, I grabbed it and jumped to the cashier and butted in front of an old lady with blue hair and a walker.  I couldn’t wait.

Beads of sweat began trickling down my forehead towards my nose.  The cashier looked at me like I was a crack or meth head looking for my next hit.  Well, she wasn’t that far off.

Much like meth addiction, if I continue my assault on these green canned goddesses, my teeth are sure to start dropping out of my mouth indiscriminately. Continue reading