This tongue licks your eye
Then I put it in your ear
You hear me slurp brain
I will cleave my way
To discover rare butt bug
That's right, crunch that thing
I wish for a dog
But I wished backward, so god
Just gave me himself
It is time to go
But the moon is freaking far
Don't forget your snacks!
We fall down the stairs
Sky, floor, banister, all one
Give us shattered bones
Eyes like hot, blue balls
Just get a fucking parrot
Or you’ll soon be dead
I wish I had not killed the Yeti,
By feeding him poison spaghetti
He’s loud when he falls,
Those evil meat balls,
And moving him makes me so sweaty.
A ninja can fight and can kick
Sometimes he uses a stick
His honor unfailing,
His opponents sailing,
But he never uses his dick
Let’s tickle like the jolliest of men.
Perhaps you are more than a friend.
If the soap were to drop
Yum, yum! Lollipop!
Our lithe bodies bond when you bend.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
They can't all be winners...but can any?
Up in mountains, north of Kazakstan, there lay a peculiar little town. Nestled in a hot mountain oasis between peaks, a strange people with blue skin walked the paths of their little city. They were afflicted with a rare form of skin cancer, which led to the blue hue of their skin. It was up in those mountains where the Kazakh people had sent them to die, but they had formed their own community. There, they lived, and using the land, survived for many generations. They spent their time very secluded, never coming into contact with the outside at all, until one fateful day in the early fall.
A stranger wandered from the nearby town of Brittley way up into the mountains, over the first peak and into the little village. The boy was called Nasib, and he had wandered far looking for his long lost sister.
Sadly, no one in the village had seen a girl with pink cheeks who could have been Nasib’s sister, and the little boy started to leave.
“Don’t let him go,” shouted a voice, “for his pure blood has the power to cure us all.”
Nasib started to run, and was quickly pursued by two large men. He made it all the way to the top of the hill before they managed to catch up with him. They tackled Nasib and brought him to their village leader. The leader of the village was a wrinkly, blue, scrotum-faced man who glared at Nasib as if he was horrible criminal.
“Tie him down,” yelled the leader through his floppy blue cheeks as he approached Nasib. He licked his lips as he engulfed the little boy’s face with his mouth. “Now I can cure the village,” he said as he swallowed. “We will never die from sickness again!”
Nasib’s face landed with a “sploosh!” in the village elder’s stomach. It smelled like sour, rotten swill. Then he dissolved, and the leader was cured.
Unfortunately, no one else in the village was cured, for they where out of Nasib. For they had misunderstood the lore of old, and the leader was outcast from the village for misleading them.
Back in Nasib’s village, though, the people began to worry about the boy and his sister. That is, until the faceless Nasib wandered back into the town. At first, nobody could tell who the strange, faceless man was supposed to be, or what he wanted.
When the figure knocked open the door of Nasib’s home, then hugged his mother, its identity became apparent. The poor women was horrified at the fate of her child, but knew she could never abandon him. She turned to his father and said, “How could someone do this? He’s only a child”
He turned to her, “Something must be done.”
That night, Mr. Nasib senior assembled an angry mob that he inspired to anger with his embittered slander of the blue-faces.
Meanwhile, all was not quiet in the blue-face town, which by the way is named Jarman. Nasib’s sister, as it turned out, had wandered near their village, and Nasib’s sister was a murderous baby monster-woman. Within moments of coming upon the village, she had killed nearly half of the already-close-to-death blue folks. The other half of the village quickly rallied, and tied down Nasib’s sister. They survived, but now only half the village remained, and an angry mob from the next town was on its way. The blue-faces quickly grabbed all the weapons they could. They formed their own army and marched out to meet the normal people.
Because the blues were terminally ill, they were easily trampled and slaughtered by those from Nasib’s village. Thus, blue skin cancer was cured for all time.
Nasib grew up and became an expert mask-maker, and had the greatest range of expressions of any mask-maker. He became known far and wide, and became very rich.
Nobody remembered about Nasib’s sister, her parents didn't care about her so she remained trapped in the blue cancer village. She died of blue skin cancer and the sun bleached her bones.
A stranger wandered from the nearby town of Brittley way up into the mountains, over the first peak and into the little village. The boy was called Nasib, and he had wandered far looking for his long lost sister.
Sadly, no one in the village had seen a girl with pink cheeks who could have been Nasib’s sister, and the little boy started to leave.
“Don’t let him go,” shouted a voice, “for his pure blood has the power to cure us all.”
Nasib started to run, and was quickly pursued by two large men. He made it all the way to the top of the hill before they managed to catch up with him. They tackled Nasib and brought him to their village leader. The leader of the village was a wrinkly, blue, scrotum-faced man who glared at Nasib as if he was horrible criminal.
“Tie him down,” yelled the leader through his floppy blue cheeks as he approached Nasib. He licked his lips as he engulfed the little boy’s face with his mouth. “Now I can cure the village,” he said as he swallowed. “We will never die from sickness again!”
Nasib’s face landed with a “sploosh!” in the village elder’s stomach. It smelled like sour, rotten swill. Then he dissolved, and the leader was cured.
Unfortunately, no one else in the village was cured, for they where out of Nasib. For they had misunderstood the lore of old, and the leader was outcast from the village for misleading them.
Back in Nasib’s village, though, the people began to worry about the boy and his sister. That is, until the faceless Nasib wandered back into the town. At first, nobody could tell who the strange, faceless man was supposed to be, or what he wanted.
When the figure knocked open the door of Nasib’s home, then hugged his mother, its identity became apparent. The poor women was horrified at the fate of her child, but knew she could never abandon him. She turned to his father and said, “How could someone do this? He’s only a child”
He turned to her, “Something must be done.”
That night, Mr. Nasib senior assembled an angry mob that he inspired to anger with his embittered slander of the blue-faces.
Meanwhile, all was not quiet in the blue-face town, which by the way is named Jarman. Nasib’s sister, as it turned out, had wandered near their village, and Nasib’s sister was a murderous baby monster-woman. Within moments of coming upon the village, she had killed nearly half of the already-close-to-death blue folks. The other half of the village quickly rallied, and tied down Nasib’s sister. They survived, but now only half the village remained, and an angry mob from the next town was on its way. The blue-faces quickly grabbed all the weapons they could. They formed their own army and marched out to meet the normal people.
Because the blues were terminally ill, they were easily trampled and slaughtered by those from Nasib’s village. Thus, blue skin cancer was cured for all time.
Nasib grew up and became an expert mask-maker, and had the greatest range of expressions of any mask-maker. He became known far and wide, and became very rich.
Nobody remembered about Nasib’s sister, her parents didn't care about her so she remained trapped in the blue cancer village. She died of blue skin cancer and the sun bleached her bones.
Monday, October 8, 2007
I was gonna go to school... but then...
Garth sniffed his pits one at a time, and his suspicions were confirmed. It was him. He turned to Jimmy with a grin.
“I think I’m ready.”
“Good,” chuckled Jimmy, as Garth approached Principal Larson’s front door. Garth’s sweaty hand trembled, as it approached the doorbell. Everyone had had enough from the principal’s sludgy, retard of a daughter, and it was the day before Halloween. The perfect night for mischief.
It was the Principal’s wife that answered the door, and Garth could hear the daughter’s unseasonably upbeat cries of “Jingle Bells.” He was smelly, and he was going to jump in that slow girl’s mouth. He was pretty sure that he would also taste terrible, making the experience all the more unpleasant for the disgusting girl.
“Please help,” Garth said to the principal’s wife, “I reeeeeeally need to soap up my pits.” Before he could possibly get an answer from the woman, Garth ran past her into the bathroom. From inside the elegant levorotatory, he lathered up with the Larson’s Vaseline in preparation to be swallowed. Once he succeeded in opening the door with his greasy hand, he burst out of the bathroom like a crazed ninja strapped to a rocket.
“AIEEEEE!” he screamed as he made a beeline for the horrible little girl. Then, only darkness. He felt himself slithering down her academically challenged esophagus, a pathetic little tube he would have to get through if he ever hoped to get to the stomach and burst out of it. He could hear muffled sounds of ensuing panic outside of the warm, slippery throat tube. Luckily, Jimmy and his friends would be keeping the principal and his wife from interfering.
He paused for a moment more, waiting for his cue, but the last thing he heard was the sound of his own flesh sizzling. The principal’s daughter wasn’t a very fast thinker, but she had a very high metabolism. Ignoring his own searing pain, he gritted his teeth and worked further towards his goal. When he had finally situated himself square in the stomach’s center, he summoned all his strength, and with a mighty, “Squalushhhh!” he burst from the girl in a frightening shower of sludgy blood and parts.
He let out a proud hurrah and thrust his fist triumphantly in the air, but cut his cries short when he looked around the Larson’s room. No one was there anymore.
The scene in front of him fizzled with static as Jimmy lifted the dream device from his head.
“Dude, that was a weird fantasy!” Jimmy said, amused. He yelped as he looked upon the scene before him. As it turned out, the past five seconds had been a shock-induced hallucination, and he was still in the Larson’s empty room with retard flesh all over him. But still, no-one was there. Garth searched the now putrid smelling room, slipping all over the bile and sludge thick carpet. All he found inside were innards. He headed outside, and almost fainted at what he saw. His friends, as well as the principal, his wife, and the man next door watering his lawn were all dead. All signs of life were wilted, trees striped bare of bark, flowers, brown and crispy.
And next to them, a 98 foot tall dragon stood. And next to that dragon, were about a thousand other giant dragons, ravaging the once proud world before them. Apparently, he had escaped the initial blast of hellfire while nestled inside the comfortable half-wit. It was all Garth could do to not defecate all over himself as he stood there, gaping at the huge monster. Then he did defecate himself, and by the feel of it, Garth didn’t think he had long to live.
Garth’s feeling was only reinforced when the closest dragon, the one he had first noticed, bit off his legs. Garth lay there, blood spurting forth from his jagged stump, and contemplated the deeds of his life. Though he was only 14, he had already lived a life full of debauchery, drugs and poor choices. The last thing Garth uttered was an apology to the principal’s daughter. “I’ve always loved you,” he squealed to her remains, “and I just wanted to be inside of you.”
“I think I’m ready.”
“Good,” chuckled Jimmy, as Garth approached Principal Larson’s front door. Garth’s sweaty hand trembled, as it approached the doorbell. Everyone had had enough from the principal’s sludgy, retard of a daughter, and it was the day before Halloween. The perfect night for mischief.
It was the Principal’s wife that answered the door, and Garth could hear the daughter’s unseasonably upbeat cries of “Jingle Bells.” He was smelly, and he was going to jump in that slow girl’s mouth. He was pretty sure that he would also taste terrible, making the experience all the more unpleasant for the disgusting girl.
“Please help,” Garth said to the principal’s wife, “I reeeeeeally need to soap up my pits.” Before he could possibly get an answer from the woman, Garth ran past her into the bathroom. From inside the elegant levorotatory, he lathered up with the Larson’s Vaseline in preparation to be swallowed. Once he succeeded in opening the door with his greasy hand, he burst out of the bathroom like a crazed ninja strapped to a rocket.
“AIEEEEE!” he screamed as he made a beeline for the horrible little girl. Then, only darkness. He felt himself slithering down her academically challenged esophagus, a pathetic little tube he would have to get through if he ever hoped to get to the stomach and burst out of it. He could hear muffled sounds of ensuing panic outside of the warm, slippery throat tube. Luckily, Jimmy and his friends would be keeping the principal and his wife from interfering.
He paused for a moment more, waiting for his cue, but the last thing he heard was the sound of his own flesh sizzling. The principal’s daughter wasn’t a very fast thinker, but she had a very high metabolism. Ignoring his own searing pain, he gritted his teeth and worked further towards his goal. When he had finally situated himself square in the stomach’s center, he summoned all his strength, and with a mighty, “Squalushhhh!” he burst from the girl in a frightening shower of sludgy blood and parts.
He let out a proud hurrah and thrust his fist triumphantly in the air, but cut his cries short when he looked around the Larson’s room. No one was there anymore.
The scene in front of him fizzled with static as Jimmy lifted the dream device from his head.
“Dude, that was a weird fantasy!” Jimmy said, amused. He yelped as he looked upon the scene before him. As it turned out, the past five seconds had been a shock-induced hallucination, and he was still in the Larson’s empty room with retard flesh all over him. But still, no-one was there. Garth searched the now putrid smelling room, slipping all over the bile and sludge thick carpet. All he found inside were innards. He headed outside, and almost fainted at what he saw. His friends, as well as the principal, his wife, and the man next door watering his lawn were all dead. All signs of life were wilted, trees striped bare of bark, flowers, brown and crispy.
And next to them, a 98 foot tall dragon stood. And next to that dragon, were about a thousand other giant dragons, ravaging the once proud world before them. Apparently, he had escaped the initial blast of hellfire while nestled inside the comfortable half-wit. It was all Garth could do to not defecate all over himself as he stood there, gaping at the huge monster. Then he did defecate himself, and by the feel of it, Garth didn’t think he had long to live.
Garth’s feeling was only reinforced when the closest dragon, the one he had first noticed, bit off his legs. Garth lay there, blood spurting forth from his jagged stump, and contemplated the deeds of his life. Though he was only 14, he had already lived a life full of debauchery, drugs and poor choices. The last thing Garth uttered was an apology to the principal’s daughter. “I’ve always loved you,” he squealed to her remains, “and I just wanted to be inside of you.”
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