Sarcasm

"I Got a Big Hole for Everyone to Dig"

Dress up your dog as psychiatrist and hope he doesn't break leash while you babble your sex fantasies. If you really want a career as an attention whore, you have to push more than your boobs out. Spread your blubber butt in front of Walmart with no panties under your too tight shorts and pick up pennies pitched. When you dare scream boldly, "FAGGOT!" at the mall security guard, push your bombas in his face, he will not taser you.

Redneck, put the stolen porn pig in the middle of heavy traffic and yelp, "Don't hit my SOW!!" Place lewd stickers all over your pickup truck's back window. No one will see who they are honking at and you'll be sure to get "hit on" when you change lanes without looking. The cops will be too busy admiring your crotch to notice the loaded rifle you carry in your lap.

And when you've failed to hold the internet in awe of your boasts for free sex because your spam has all been pulled and you've been blocked by numerous administrations, keep on pumpin.
Go to Wikipedia and create a page to advertise your lusty promises and photos. Include a diss on President Obama and the Pope and everybody who has blocked you. Curse and swear profusely that you are not a bot and curse those who pulled your offensive ads. Update your rants and porn babble daily on that wiki page then brag that you are a Wikipedia editor (of course!) who's been around the world. Surely stardom will be yours because everyone loves trash thrust in their face in public domain. When the real Wiki administration deletes your page of spam drafts, start making a HUGE porn banner to fly on the next biplane from which you skydive. Make sure to customize your parachute from giant bloomers you wear. Why opt to get a job at Pearl Dragon restaurant so you can insert your website addresses and your phone number into every fortune cookie you make? That kind of promotion will only give you greasy fingers and payment in small crabbage eggrolls.

I left out the suggestion to the redneck about what to do when his girlfriend complains of his taste in music. That would have needed the "extreme content' warning. I'll put it in my personal poetry though.

deleat

http://i2.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/000/206/Flying_Spaghetti_Monster.jpg


Murder of the Flying Spaghetti Monster


They found him with a jagged claw
stuck in his spicy, meaty ball.
His eyes had been snipped from limp nerves.
Hungry noodleless people were left with open jaws.
“Who could have killed our God, and for what cause?”

The pirates in the sinking ship
eyed wickedly the rats who ran
“It must have been those vermin who
were not allowed to bite doubloons
of our sea wenches.
No beer shall drown our tears
Our God is dead.”

“Let us make haste and paste his blood
upon our breasts and brows and prows
to save us from dreaded albatross
who mocks our grief and love of pasta past.”

So every pirate bowed his head
as cannons did salute the dead
Spaghetti Monster who flew no more.

Far below the red, troubled sea
the samurai crab burped and laughed evilly

http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/58/04/7c/58047ca1ed78252974fa287fdba42fd4.jpg
.

It's not so easy to stand with the angry Fergonians across the water, because the rule of law must be seen to be adhered to. Protest is all well and good in theory but they made their point three months ago and every day since in a very boring way. they just sat there on the street with their hands in the air, and the slogan they chanted wasn't the least bit catchy. their new one ' black lives matter' is no better. common sense is a silly thing for a slogan. might as well just start writing 'equality is better'.

I think their one saving grace was when they invited a load of thugs into the town to liven the tv footage up a bit and even though the city tried very hard to minimise any unrest by announcing the jury's decision when it got dark, the thugs still managed to burn down countless businesses ( obviously targeted for the harm they do to the community, providing wages and services etc ) and reek havoc

alas even the biblical restraint shown by the deceased's step father who could but whimper  ' burn this bitch down ' a couple of times' in a futile call for tolerance could not stop the festivities of the evening

happy thanksgiving    

Novelists write about other people,
The gross, sweating mass of humanity.
Poets seek the purity
Of their deepest feelings
Like pubescent boys in private places.

fake outs

cut
your
self
off
kill
your
self
worth
slit
your
wrist
watch
clock
tics
time
stops

*********

I'll just bump this thread. if I bump anything else I'll probably get in trouble.

damn... this place is as active as a piranha pool being invaded by mad gators. Maybe I should go open an account at Facebook for some inspiration. Maybe send Ricky a love letter that will make him fly over the ocean in his giant, dick shaped blimp and drop a bomb on my lawn. Then I won't have to trim my dead Hibiscus.