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.

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The Case FOR Premarital Sex (NSFW)

Sluts, whores and hussies are wonderful for so many reasons whether you like them or not.  Sex is not a bad thing, never has been.

In fact, sex is why we are here today and why we will be here tomorrow.

Why then are so many people concerned with telling others not to have sex?  The notion of not having premarital sex is completely insane to me.

Here’s a scenario for you:

Two young high school sweethearts have been going steady since their sophomore year.  They both made the promise to wait until marriage to have sex, signed the prom letter, wore the promise rings and all that good shit.  They fulfill the promise and finally get married.

On the honeymoon, he carries her over the threshold of the suite and goes straight for the bed.  After several seconds of passionate kissing, the moment is close. Continue reading

Contestant #3 (an ode to the Bachelor)

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(I’m re-posting this because my favorite train wreck is starting again on Monday)

OMG, who will he pick this time????

After sucking on 10 different sets of collagen-filled lips, love is floating around the hot tub like un-caged semen unfazed by chlorine.

“I can really see myself with you.  I’ve never felt a connection like this,” says contestant number 8 as she slips her bikini top back, adjusts her thong and exits the hot tub.

The Bachelor looks toward the sky and thanks the good lord for his fortune, but before he can finish the prayer, contestant number 3 sneaks up behind him, wrapping her lips around his ear.

His dick still hard from number 8, number 3 was now straddling him as the bubbles started to foam and lap against his chiseled pecks

“You know, I want to show you a trick,” she whispered into his ear.

She turned around, dropped her head into the water and into his lap. She began sucking his member.  His body began to quiver.  Just when he thought he could take no more, her ass jumped from the water and began to “twerk” relentlessly in his face.  Her precious lady bits were only inches from his face.

He started to slide his tongue into her meat pouch, but a sudden thought of fear rambled around his head.

“Oh no, my sweet little daughter will watch this one day.  What will she think about her daddy licking number 3’s lady bits in the hot tub.”

Then he quickly remembered how heavily edited the “reality” show is.  He inserted his tongue deep inside number 3’s love canal, gave her a rose and asked for a cigarette.

Manufactured love is a beautiful concept and a concept the Bachelor will never forget.

1-976 HIPSTER

Subcultures fascinate me and nothing fascinates me more than Hipsters.  They are fucking everywhere, literally and figuratively and I enjoy poking fun at them.  (probably a poor word choice there)

There is a fetish out there for everyone so I’m sure there is a Hipster Phone Sex Line and here’s how I think it would go down:

Caller: (after dialing 1-976-HIPSTER and giving her his credit card number) Hi there, I’m a little nervous, I’ve never done this before.

     Hipster: Don’t be nervous, I’m here to ease your stress and a ease a few other things….if you know what I mean.

Caller:  Oh well, that sounds nice.  Can you call me Clementine?

Hipster: Sure thing, but how about Clemmy?

Caller:  (giggling) Oh yeah, that’s nice.  I’m already getting wet, tell me about your vintage records.

Hipster: Glad you asked, I have quite the vinyl collection.  Original Sgt. Peppers, Hendrix Isle of Wight,  Johnny Cash, Salt N Peppa………

Caller: (gently moaning) I was so close until Salt N Peppa.  Let me hear about your ironic beard and wardrobe  (hands in panties) Continue reading

The First Jerk (becoming a man)

1025Left school, rode my bike fast as shit
Didn’t even stop at 7-11 for candy, ditched my friends, said I had a stomach ache
Mom and dad still at work, house is all mine

Right to the bathroom, door locked, double and then triple checked to make sure
Turned the fan and the water on, don’t want to be too loud
Pulled down my pants and there it was
It was at least 4 inches thick, just sitting there, teasing me

I grabbed it and turned right to the middle section
There they were, all smiling at me invitingly
Some facing forward, some turned to the side with a “come hither” look
All wearing lace bras in beige, pearl white or black,
with the extra wide straps that were popular in the 80’s Continue reading

The Best Dream Ever

It starts with me walking down a poorly lit hallway with several doors on each side, some cracked open and some closed.  I want to look in each door, but something is making me nervous to look.  But I look anyway.

The first door is numbered 666 and I open it.  There is a huge bed in the middle of the room and I see Rush Limbaugh dressed like a catholic school girl and he has black mascara dripping down his bulbous cheeks like he’s been crying.  He looks at me with his God-Fearing eyes and points to the corner.

In the corner there are two Filipino adult midgets tied together with ball-gags in their mouths, smiling and sitting on top of a very worn out Twister board.

Then out of the closet, Justin Beiber runs out dressed in a lederhosen t-back carrying a crystal magic wand.  He flips his hair, points the wand at Rush and says, “Lady-Boy Alive.”  Immediately Rush grows HHH titties and starts giggling like he’s on laughing gas.

He gets down on all fours on the edge of the bed and Justin mounts him and starts riding him like a donkey.  Rush squeals and Justin just keeps flipping his hair.  Then Usher appears with a video camera and starts taping the whole thing and tells me he’s going to put it on You Tube.

I’m starting to feel a little weird about everything so I try to help the Filipino midgets get untied.

They start blowing me kisses, so I run out of the room and slam the door shut.  At the end of the hallway I see my 5th grade teacher standing next to a urinal and she says, “I told you that you wouldn’t amount to anything.”  I wake up and realized I pissed myself, again.