Wednesday, November 15, 2006

After continuously ejaculating

For 47 ½ hours
The man finally realized
That he should have used a Trojan latex condom
Instead of an empty chip bag.
But it was too late.
And the chips were so yummy
In his tummy.

Ronald Pubic

Vomited
After sniffing the very hairs
That he discovered.

My albino friend fell

Into my cooking flour
And now
He’s my cookie friend.

It isn’t incest

If they’re dead.

Roses are red

Violets are blue
I’m going to fuck you in the ass until it bleeds.

Fat kids don’t want cake.

They want friends.

The worst part of Jesus’ crucifixion

Was getting that horrible smell out of my hands.

Sure, the center-stage queef was embarrassing

But the ballerina was much more concerned about
The fact
That her grandfather was
Fingering
Her grandmother
In the front row.

The alarmingly angry black woman

Continued to swear
Even after
The police had cut her head off.

I wanted to be nice

So I gave my retarded girlfriend
A stuffed bear
And a whicker basket full of chocolates.
She ate the stuffed bear
And cuddled with the chocolates and whicker basket.
Fucki... Silly retard.

IMPORTANT

While it may bother many, the practicality of eating babies is nothing to be taken lightly.
How many times have you found yourself troubled by the actions of a baby? While superficially cute and adorable and lovable and fun, babies are—as statistics prove—the leading cause of death and frustration in the United States. Alarmingly, baby-related deaths now affect 3.49 million lives per year. 24 million people have reported that their death was the direct result of a baby (compared to 1 million people reporting that they had died as the direct result of tripping on untied shoelaces while smoking methamphetamine). Clearly, eating babies would help mitigate this growing problem.
Sociological experts have also determined that babies are carrying more weapons today than ever before. Parents have determined that 59% of the time their children are carrying, brandishing, or shining/cleaning their weapons. Clearly, the violent use of said weapons against babies would kill them; as is known, it’s incredibly difficult for the dead to cause problems. Because genocide will produce a great many dead babies, it only makes sense to eat them. Waste is never welcome in capitalism.
Studies also prove that sun-dried dead babies burn better than most everything else. A dead-baby bonfire could be used to cook a cauldron full of dead-baby stew. The practicality is almost overwhelming.
Sociological geniuses are also on the verge of proving that babies (not cigarettes) are the direct cause of cancer. Important studies from a reputable journal prove that couples with children are 3000% more likely to develop cancer of the arms and anus. A related study proves that couples that consume their own children (or children of helpless, impoverished minorities) reduce their risk of contracting cancer, AIDS, and HIV by 200%. These reliable statistics clearly indicate that eating babies would be a good decision.
Studies also prove that 100% of today’s criminals were—for some period of time—babies. Eating babies today would thus deter the crimes of tomorrow.
Sociologists agree that eating babies proves more fun than basketball, billiards, and masturbation combined. Granted that all fun things are worth doing, we should definitely eat babies.

The King James Bible + Penis = The King James Penis

...

Every time you kill a kitten
god Masturbates.

Watch your step, Grandma!

Shouted the little boy
As his grandmother was eaten by Velociraptors.

You shouldn’t always do something

Just because you can
Like dipping your uncle’s penis in cheese fondue.

The incredibly fat woman was so angry!

No one ever listened to her ideas
Or took her seriously.
But this time things were different—
She’d read her books and done her research
Organized information using complex and colorized charting systems
Hired outside help to manage projects and make appealing posters
And even (after much emotional strife)
Wiped the bacon grease and French-fry crumbs from her eyebrows—
This time she was sure.
She knew there was a market out there for chocolate covered orphans.

His use of circumlocution was indeed

Impressive
But that didn’t—in any way—change the fact that
His fly was undone
And his penis was hanging out.

Some people say:

You are what you eat!
So I guess that makes me
Abraham Lincoln.

Some people call me

A radically offensive poet
But I call myself
Nigger.

One day our teacher was gone

So we got a substitute.
His name was Mr. Fuck—
That was really funny.
It was also funny that he lived in an ice-cream truck.
It wasn’t funny at all
When he raped all of us in alphabetical order
And used our teacher’s severed hand
To adjust the dead cat
He wore like a wig.

Daddy punched mommy really hard

And a baby fell out.

Hurray!

I won 5nd place!
Said the winner of the Special Olympics
To the complete strangers that had him convinced
They were his parents.

Upon reflection

Higgins wasn’t completely sure why he’d originally thought
That stapling his scrotum to his forehead
And eating sun-dried urine crystals
Would help him finish the earnings report any faster.

The man looked around in simultaneous horror and shame

At all of his coworkers
And admitted that the catastrophic system failure had occurred
As a direct result of his
Attention deficit hyperactive non-penal ejaculation syndrome

I told the service I wanted a

CHEAP
Prostitute—
Preferably NOT a
Vegetarian—
But only moments after getting her in the corn hole (i.e. anal-explosive sex)
Into bed
My scrotum was gashed and my testicles were wrenched out.
Laying in pain on the metal floor of my meth lab
With blood staining my mullet and mesh hat
I realized
She had a thorny vestibule.
I realized
She smelled distinctly of fertilizer.
I realized
She had coarse, green flesh
and healthy-looking leaves.
But I never once realized
I’d just had sex with my roommate’s Venus fly trap.

Playing pool is like

Leaving the country
Because in both situations
You need a chalked-up stick
To get the eight ball in the hole of your choice.

Urination!

And
Ejaculation!
Two things that happen
At the Same Time
When you break your collarbone!

A love poem:

Name here,
Your eyes are the mustard gasses of my concentration camp.
My skin melts off in drippy hellish spats
Upon the mere mention of your person.
Literally.
I vomit and defecate
violently
When I stare at your picture
That I keep pressed against my anus
Inside my abnormally tight underwear.
I wish I could make you
The fanciest dinner
The world has ever seen.
But that doesn’t mean I want to cook for you.
It means I want to eat you.
Let me arch my back over your urine-soaked body
And vomit glass candies into your mouth.
I love you like a fat kid loves eating his own dead dog’s ashes.

I think it’d be funny

To sneak into a baby’s coffin
And sleep there…
Then when the family starts crying
And getting all sappy
I’d jump out and say
Look!
I’m not dead! I’m all grown up now!

I swallowed my mom’s diaphragm

And took all of her birth control pills rectally
And snorted all my dad’s Viagra
And painfully crammed nineteen tampons into my belly button.
I ate five bars of soap and eight pieces of dog shit.
I ate my fingernail collection.


I grew a mullet and burned it off with lasers and gasoline.


I coated myself in civil rights propaganda and went to Georgia.
And that’s how I learned to ride a skateboard.

I pooped out Armageddon the other day.

Humanity said it stunk really bad.
Lots of people died.

You shouldn’t always do something

Just because you can.


Like cutting off all your toes
And wearing them on a necklace.

Mr. Peppers—the gym teacher—said he found it

Incredibly difficult
To put up with all my whining.
He said that he had it much worse—
That I should pity him
For not getting to watch his morning pornography
And forget about my stupid legs
Since I didn’t even have them anymore.

I was

Always against the death penalty
But then again
I always thought they were saying
Death penal tea...

And that’s just wrong.

The zombie next door ate my dog’s brain.

If he hadn’t beaten me—taken my spot in the
University of Zombie Studies in Cairo, Egypt—
I could have saved my dog’s life. And possibly my sister’s.

Fuck affirmative action.

Fat people have no business using ATM machines.

ATM machines are for money,
Not cheeseburgers.

Fat people eat anything that smells like cheese.

My dad told me to stop being such a dick...

To go out and get a job
If I cared so god damn much about running water.
So I applied for a few
But never heard back from any of the potential employers.
So instead I bought a gun
And now I threaten mentally challenged children.
I still don’t have a job
But at least I’m not retarded
With a gun pointed at me.

I scream uncontrollably when I pee

And I pee when I scream uncontrollably.
It sucks to use public restrooms
And to see horror movies at the theatre.

Daddy said I was underdeveloped for my age.

I said daddy didn’t make much money for his age
And didn’t even try, anymore, to go to the bathroom in the correct room.
Daddy looked traumatized.
He defecated and cried.
He said the bookshelf was once filled with literary masterpieces
technical books of all kinds—
The classics, ancient and modern masterpieces
Pornography and whatnot—
But that he’d sold them all to buy me.
That’s when I found out
I was adopted.

Once my parents told me not to kiss too many girls

Because I could get mono that way.
So I fucked them all instead
And now I have four sons
And my parents don’t have room for them in our trailer
Or money to feed them
But they couldn’t be prouder.

There’s nothing I’d rather do

Than sit in the searing-hot afternoon sun
On the blacktop in the living room of my shanty
Peacefully drinking cottage cheese
Through a straw.

Grandpa...

Grandpa—the preacher—says they wear the little white piece in their collars
To prevent nosy little kiddies
From asking retarded questions
Or telling their parents.

One day Zeus called Jesus on his cellular phone

And got his voice mail.
He suspected that Jesus was ignoring his calls.
In frustration, Zeus destroyed Arkansas.
That made Jesus really angry.
Jesus bought a Desert Eagle
And shot Zeus in the head. But that meant he killed somebody
And violated a commandment.
The southern United States didn’t know how to react, so most of them sat around on their front porches chewing their thumbnails and concluding that Jesus must’ve been black.
Most of them exploded later on that night because God got frustrated with them.
Jesus got sent to hell by God, who was very pissed and confused and tormented by Erectile dysfunction.
Jesus had to clean toilets in hell
While watching Satan filch Zeus’ dead body.

In the future

Dogs will still be man’s best friend
But also his best breakfast-food item.
So will Chinese people.

We used to laugh at grandfather a lot

For being so weird
And old-fashioned.
Then one day he said we hurt his feelings really bad
And he died the next morning.
We all felt terrible
Until we learned that the bastard had been battling kidney cancer
And had never told us.
What an ass.

What's a fagina for?

Asked the little man
To his even littler father

Pooping, he responded.

And it’s vurgeiner, he corrected

As he sucked the end of his tire gauge.

I once punched a polar bear in the throat.

He got really pissed off.
After he finished eating me
I regretted my decision to punch him in the throat.
Now I live in his stomach
And his friends tease him about how pregnant he looks.

God:

She was so hot
I wish I had taken down her number
Instead of 196 shots of Absinthe.
Now she looks like a tentacle monster
And I can’t remember my name.

ADD is for pussies

Back when I was growing up
We were really sick.

We used to eat shit.

You are...

A white bowl of vile drinking water
I shit all over you
Fucker—
watered-down idealist
You’re the place my food goes after I eat it
You’re just mad
Because you can’t have turds of your own
Because you aren’t human and I pull the flusher