Poetry competition CLOSED 19th October 2013 11:23pm
WINNER
13
13
RUNNER-UP:
case28
the amputees club
aheartflash said:[quote-236751-anna_grin][quote-236066-johnrot][quote-235809-anna_grin]am i just goin to end up with a bag of dicks here
not that i MIND
personally i took some biz classes in college and they always suggested slingin out of a box not a bag as a much better selling strategy so i shall return with a whole BOX of dicks for you grin.
and you keep hittin home with these comps for me creepy and now the amputee thing. i wish someone else would present these competition concepts not that i care that much but so i might actually get a gold star on my face when i poop.
your obvious animosity towards my continued boring sinister rhetoric is intimidating and intoxicating at the same time and honestly saddening anna. you're breaking my dark lil heart here
with all these things that i identify wit so much. but i;m gonna go ahead and stick my dick right in the mashed potatoes here again after work.
longwinded again my bad. gotta quit doin so much morphine in the morn...
[/quote]
this 1 is jus 4 u jr enter it u win no questions asked
heres a gold star
yaayyy 4 u
obvious animosity aw no im super shy
but really
i wanna break your dark lil heart in pieces and burn each 1 and drop the ashes in hydrofloric acid thats how much[/quote]
Oh jeeze. I'll just bury my amputated hammie right now. lol.
Annie, why not open a diff comp for Jon only, so he can win a cup of mashed potatoes?
Hope they are not rotten. Call it "kiss my black star comp."
hugs to you both. I will withdraw. [/quote]
it was all sarcastic inside joke jargon. please noone withdraw on my account. i can't write worth a shit anyway and what i do anna does'nt like so everybody has got a shot here......
not that i MIND
personally i took some biz classes in college and they always suggested slingin out of a box not a bag as a much better selling strategy so i shall return with a whole BOX of dicks for you grin.
and you keep hittin home with these comps for me creepy and now the amputee thing. i wish someone else would present these competition concepts not that i care that much but so i might actually get a gold star on my face when i poop.
your obvious animosity towards my continued boring sinister rhetoric is intimidating and intoxicating at the same time and honestly saddening anna. you're breaking my dark lil heart here
with all these things that i identify wit so much. but i;m gonna go ahead and stick my dick right in the mashed potatoes here again after work.
longwinded again my bad. gotta quit doin so much morphine in the morn...
[/quote]
this 1 is jus 4 u jr enter it u win no questions asked
heres a gold star
yaayyy 4 u
obvious animosity aw no im super shy
but really
i wanna break your dark lil heart in pieces and burn each 1 and drop the ashes in hydrofloric acid thats how much[/quote]
Oh jeeze. I'll just bury my amputated hammie right now. lol.
Annie, why not open a diff comp for Jon only, so he can win a cup of mashed potatoes?
Hope they are not rotten. Call it "kiss my black star comp." hugs to you both. I will withdraw. [/quote]
it was all sarcastic inside joke jargon. please noone withdraw on my account. i can't write worth a shit anyway and what i do anna does'nt like so everybody has got a shot here......
a fine specimen, to say the least
firm skin and muscle to boast
some of tightest tendons I've ever seen
snapping back as i tugged at them
wait, let me play you the tape.
let's begin, tracking.
subject 12, this one's a female
alive and comatose, sustaining.
we will begin with the feet
dissecting the epidermis
ligating the arteries and veins
can't believe i found this suture in the trash
moving on, what wonderful muscle tissue here
the calves and thighs have good muscle mass
the nerve endings are severed
bleeding is at minimal
now to sever the bone
the oscillating saw will take about a minute
and a half to cut through cleanly
i think half thighs should be good enough
the knee sockets and toes are useless
on to the fingers then
oh damnit, i dropped my ash on your belly
i hope you dont mind, terribly
dont worry about it, lets proceed
we need the prints first, the scalpel
will make a clean excision of the skin
leaving it intact
a curved scissor will make this quick
the tourniquets on the biceps will hold well
pop goes a knuckle, pop there goes two
chop chop chop and your blood has turned to goo
er...
umm... poem, right... well i lost a finger at the printing press
fortunately for me my dad doesn't read the bloody paper.
my mom didn't notice until a year later
when she caught me masturbating
go figure.
Bloody Mary
His name was Ladislav Zoric, small time gangster and big time hustler. The guy was a ticking lunatic and infamous for his violent tendencies. They called him the Toe Cutter, because if you cut a deal with Ladislav and the deal fell like a dead duck, Ladislav would pay you a visit with a pair of bolt cutters… and let’s just say you won’t walk away with a smile on your dial, just a squelching limp and bloody footprint.
I got the call a month ago, about blenders. Yeah, that’s right, fucking blenders. Ladislav had a taste for Bloody Marys and needed a new blender to mix his poison. Except this wasn’t just any deal.
[insert sales pitch here]
We're talking about a shipping container of commercial quality, pulverizing chopper blades. The world's fastest blender on the market, with speeds clocked over 75,000 rpm, designed to perform a heap of functions with ease, like liquefying mobile phones, juicing juices, cracking coconuts, combusting soup and mixing Bloody Mary’s. The inefficient twin turbo carbon brush motor with blackout prevention switch, sledge hammer-forged stainless steel blades were unstoppable, and a choice of unbreakable bulletproof jugs were a testament to the blender’s durability, designed to outlast a nuclear blast.
[/end sales pitch]
Now, the blenders were available in various designs, with the option for a dial or buttons and a range of colours including Red, White, Cream, Black and Silver. There were three things I didn’t know at the time Ladislav showed me the goods at his warehouse:
1. The white jugs were made from Columbian cocaine resin with a street value of $100K per unit;
2. Ladislav was colour blind;
3. He had a fucking short memory and he was never wrong… actually I knew this, but I was too far up my own ass I didn’t know what was coming.
He showed me the silver jugs and told me he’d already sold the goods and arranged for a pick up at the end of the week.
I wasted no time moving the container, making deals, selling the remaining stock, laundering the money, slicing the pie and taking my cut. I thought I did well… but, a week later Ladislav paid me a visit with a bottle of vodka and a silver blender under his arm.
I was relieved there was no sign of his bolt cutters, but I soon found out that the news wasn’t good. He said his client wasn't happy with the blenders, said they didn’t appreciate snorting glass. Ladislav was infuriated. He asked me to make him a Bloody Mary, so he could think… I can remember thinking, “I don't have any tomato juice, I don't have any tomato juice,” I froze, as I watched him drain a bottle of vodka into the blender, emptied the ice bucket, milked the Tabasco, doused with salt and pepper, inserted my hand, felt the blades rotate effortlessly at 75,000 rpm as he drove my arm into the blender… I watched Ladislav drink his Bloody Mary as I bled on the floor of my kitchen, wondering if a copper's life pension would be untouchable, when you’re a corrupt cop with a prosthetic lower arm.
Written by Alexander Case
His name was Ladislav Zoric, small time gangster and big time hustler. The guy was a ticking lunatic and infamous for his violent tendencies. They called him the Toe Cutter, because if you cut a deal with Ladislav and the deal fell like a dead duck, Ladislav would pay you a visit with a pair of bolt cutters… and let’s just say you won’t walk away with a smile on your dial, just a squelching limp and bloody footprint.
I got the call a month ago, about blenders. Yeah, that’s right, fucking blenders. Ladislav had a taste for Bloody Marys and needed a new blender to mix his poison. Except this wasn’t just any deal.
[insert sales pitch here]
We're talking about a shipping container of commercial quality, pulverizing chopper blades. The world's fastest blender on the market, with speeds clocked over 75,000 rpm, designed to perform a heap of functions with ease, like liquefying mobile phones, juicing juices, cracking coconuts, combusting soup and mixing Bloody Mary’s. The inefficient twin turbo carbon brush motor with blackout prevention switch, sledge hammer-forged stainless steel blades were unstoppable, and a choice of unbreakable bulletproof jugs were a testament to the blender’s durability, designed to outlast a nuclear blast.
[/end sales pitch]
Now, the blenders were available in various designs, with the option for a dial or buttons and a range of colours including Red, White, Cream, Black and Silver. There were three things I didn’t know at the time Ladislav showed me the goods at his warehouse:
1. The white jugs were made from Columbian cocaine resin with a street value of $100K per unit;
2. Ladislav was colour blind;
3. He had a fucking short memory and he was never wrong… actually I knew this, but I was too far up my own ass I didn’t know what was coming.
He showed me the silver jugs and told me he’d already sold the goods and arranged for a pick up at the end of the week.
I wasted no time moving the container, making deals, selling the remaining stock, laundering the money, slicing the pie and taking my cut. I thought I did well… but, a week later Ladislav paid me a visit with a bottle of vodka and a silver blender under his arm.
I was relieved there was no sign of his bolt cutters, but I soon found out that the news wasn’t good. He said his client wasn't happy with the blenders, said they didn’t appreciate snorting glass. Ladislav was infuriated. He asked me to make him a Bloody Mary, so he could think… I can remember thinking, “I don't have any tomato juice, I don't have any tomato juice,” I froze, as I watched him drain a bottle of vodka into the blender, emptied the ice bucket, milked the Tabasco, doused with salt and pepper, inserted my hand, felt the blades rotate effortlessly at 75,000 rpm as he drove my arm into the blender… I watched Ladislav drink his Bloody Mary as I bled on the floor of my kitchen, wondering if a copper's life pension would be untouchable, when you’re a corrupt cop with a prosthetic lower arm.
Written by Alexander Case
