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Today I Will Sexy (A Morning Mantra)


Sexy do how sexy be

So find what sexy makes you free!


Sexy be what sexy is 

So strut that simple sexy biz!


Sexy is as sexy do

So set some sexy standards, you!




Social Needia


I am the ghost

Of your media post

Which you gave second thought and deleted


I know what's at stake

(To look perfect and fake)

But you came off too real, I'll concede it


When art reflects life

But the content's not rife

That's a good way to feel quite defeated


So trim, pimp, and preen

Till your story looks clean

And I'll send you the thumb that you needed




Look At It This Way


Everything happens for a reason

Usually the reason is 'you seemed too happy'


When one door closes, one opens

And a bunch of mosquitoes just got in, nice


There are other fish in the sea

Also unexploded naval mines and sharks


Two wrongs don't make a right

I'm thinking you didn't want to be right though


Don't sweat the small stuff

Sweat the big stuff until the small stuff becomes the big stuff

and there's new small stuff to not sweat 


Look at the glass half full

Of turd juice




Fucking Life


Life is measured in fucks


Fucks you give


Fucks given to you


Fucking triumphs 


Shit fucking situations


The people you fucked up


Those who fucked you over


The times you moaned 'fuck...' into a pillow


The times you screamed 'FUCK' into a pillow


Life is measured in fucks


So, fuck it


Fuck it




Self-Care Credence


We break our wrists to pat our backs

And starve our hearts (till they attack)

We fetishize the toiled drudge 

And boil dreams to vile sludge 


We rush to live and see and do

And push to love and be and view

When all is settled, said, and done

Let's hope we had some god damn fun


I will not pine for days I've worked

I won't lament my duties shirked

And when my time becomes a wrap

I bet I'll wish I took more naps




Nursery's 11


Mary had a little plan

To fleece and steal and rob

And everyone that Mary called

Was perfect for the job


Humpty Dumpty'd take a fall

Distract the local fuzz

Peter Piper'd pack the heat

Cuz that's what Piper does


The Muffin Man's the rendezvous 

Old Drury Lane's the spot

We'll stash the dough inside

The little short and stout teapot


The job was set but someone snitched

The answer's not complex

Jack broke first and spilled the beans

And Jill came mumbling next




Today’s Special


Sometimes the city chews you up

And spits you out

Sometimes the city swallows you whole

And that's that

Sometimes the city savors you for a little

Rolls you around on it's tongue 

And before you realize it

You’ve been completely dissolved

Sometimes the city didn’t even have you on the menu

And you go bad before you’re ordered


If you feel like it’s making a meal of you

Hold on tight

Don’t let yourself get cut into safe little pieces

If it wants you

It’ll have to choke on your ass






2 cups of flour

3/4 cup of sugar

A big thick stick of butter

(Damn, that’s hot)

A couple flicks of salt

Just a tease


Vanilla extract, as much as you can handle

Now stir that shit


Get rough with it

(Oh fuck)

The oven's not the only thing pre-heated

Have a little taste

Lick that spoon, shit

Now pound those sweet things onto the sheets

Slam 'em in there

(Fuck, oh fuck,)-

Oh fuck we burned them.




Salty Fisherman Testifying 


I swear ter tell the truth

So help me 'ol peg leg

And while I'm under oath






                X                         X

                 |                          |

                 |                          |

                / \                        / \

              /     \                    /     \  

            /         \                /         \

The puppets sang and danced and played

Delighted, awed, and entertained

They made you laugh and made you cry

But when they bow and wave goodbye

Their handlers think the darnedest things 

(They aren't sure who had pulled who's strings)




New Year’s Revolution


I might not get rich

I might not lose weight

I might not find love

I might not feel great


I might get upset

Some dreams may fall flat

This year I resolve

To be cool with that




Bath King


The Bath King rules with soggy fist

His throne room seeped in luke-warm mist

He keeps his Chancellor scrubbed of muck

It’s easy (he’s a rubber duck)


His kingdom spans across the tile

(It’s export: half used bars of Dial)

He writes new laws by candlelight

His edicts tracing bubble’s flight 


He’s warring with the Dread Lord Kirk

(His roommate needs to go to work)

But Bath King’s settled for the siege

His coffer’s full of wine and cheese


Incessant banging from the Kirk

Can’t wipe the Bath King’s royal smirk

He knows the regal door will hold

(At least until the water’s cold)




Don't Sell YourShelf Short


Selfish Sally spends her savings solely on herself

She hoards her time like shiny dimes in jars upon her shelf


She found someone to spend her time upon and sold her shares

Now Selfish Sally's selfless, shelf-less, shattered, sad, and square




Quotes Pt.1



‘You can be anything you want if you just work hard

and believe in yourself.’


-An adult who’s maybe projecting a little



‘I made poopie!’


-The person who’s going to cure cancer, probably



‘I promised myself I wouldn’t doo-hoo.’


-Statler, at Waldorf’s funeral



‘I don’t understand.’


-Someone who understands but doesn’t like it



‘Well damn.’


-The guy who’s speech was after the Gettysburg Address



‘Anyone could make that’


-A person who did not make that







I eat-o

A flavor torpedo

Take aim for my mouth and let loose spicy heat-o



A treat-o

Picante gazebo

My taste buds will marry their one true love sweet-o



Whole wheat-o

A meat-filled tuxedo

My stomach is dressed to the nines sharp and neat-o


Burrito Burrito

Burrito Burrito

Burrito Burrito

You make me complete-o




Let Me Sleep


I think I'm in a coma 

And here's how I can tell

This body's naught but soma 

Cuz things are going well






I'm magic! 

I'm magic!

You losers should know!

From tip of my wand to my big magic toe!


You morons are stuck being normal and bland,

I freely cast all the spells at my command!


And for my first charm, I shall cast


The jinx must have worked, my friends all disappeared...




Squash the Vote


Sucking blood

Hitching rides

Spreading fear

Mindless pride


Little bugs

That we picked

No one likes





Christmas Leverage


Santa yelled 'alright, you clowns,'

(His festive ego knows no bounds)

'I don't need anyone but me,

So suck my decked out Christmas tree!'


Now Dasher's drinking naughty nog

And Dancer's smoking yuletide log

Prancer's fucked but he won't listen

Vixen's eyes are glazed and glisten


Comet's puking on himself

Cupid's puking on an elf

Donner's doing party tricks

Blitzen's talking politics


Rudolph's on a frosty roof

He's worried from his head to hoof

He wants to help his jolly friend

But thinks that this may be the end


For Santa got his fat ass stuck

He's pissed as hell and drunk as fuck

His reindeer quit, his elves won't hear it 

Now he's blitzed on Christmas spirit


That's the story, girls and boys

Of two things: First, why there's no toys

And second: to be kind and wise

Or all the help will unionize 




























Audition Slang


Slate your name - say something while we objectify you

Be subtle - we'd cast mannequins if we could

Make it your own - write the script for us

Be quirky - be Tom Middleditch 

Have fun with it - write the script for us as Tom Middleditch

Versatile - is currently breathing

Relatable - medium ugly

Ed Helms type - just kidding Tom Middleditch 




Ode To A Sad Falconer


My falcon up and flew away 

He took off from my arm today

I waited with my hand raised high

But saw no action in the sky


It can not be disloyalty

(I treated him like royalty)

He went due north, what’s straight ahead?

An airport? OH MY GOD HE’S DEAD


Who’s gonna split my jerky sticks?

Who’s gonna watch the nature flicks?

Without him I’m a one-gloved nerd!


Oh, wait

              he’s back. 

                              (I love you bird)




An Open Letter To My Social Anxiety


People are silly and awkward and stupid
and everything's funny and quite convoluted
and everyone’s drowning pretending they’re swimming
so hold your nose shut and jump in while its brimming.


Cuz thinking and shrinking and drinking to vanish,
and putting up fronts to embolden your plan(ish)
and aims to not make bad impressions befall
will beget you to make no impression at all.




>>-----> (‿ˠ‿)


Stupid Cupid 

Takes his aim at those who need to heal

Stupid Cupid 

Finds it funny making people feel

Stupid Cupid 

Has no grace nor wit nor charm nor class

Stupid Cupid

Take your arrow, shove it up your ass




Once Upon


The greatest story never told 

Delights the young, astounds the old

it makes you gambol, makes you gasp

Unlocks your heart with broken clasp


it’s funny 




It's full of love 

(both good and bad)


It peaks and dips, but notwithstanding


You’re the writer.

Stick the landing.






If I were a geologist

I'd give you some coal

And explain how a diamond is carbon under pressure

and that'll we'll get through this and be stronger for it


If I were a physicist

I'd give you a bucket with water

And show you how centrifugal force proves that when

a lot of things are in motion it may feel crazy

but the important stuff stays put


If I were an astronomer 

I’d give you a telescope

And we’d talk about what a beautiful and devastating allegory

it is that lots of the stars we worship are already dead


But I'm a comedian

So here's a fart joke

Come to my improv show tomorrow night?

Last time I played a geologist who fucked coal into diamonds




The Council of Dogs 


They meet in secret

Passing rumors

Fear betrays their joy 


They have to know

Once and for all

Just who is a good boy?






Some fish grow to the size of their environment

So if they stay hidden

And comfortable 

They don't get any bigger


But also then no one tries to fucking eat them


I don't know

Stay the course, I guess




When I Hit Predictive Text A Bunch (A Poem)


Yeah that's cool stuff

I'll check out some stuff 

But I'm still at the practice tonight 


I'm not going on

Or maybe I am

Or maybe I'll have a bit late 


To show me that I'm sorry daddy 

And you're a big daddy 

And father daddy protects the daddy 


Big papa father house daddy papa 

Protect the daddy house protect daddy papa father

Daddy big papa daddy big daddy house daddy

Papa father protects




broked hart


My hart dun broked 

Its al dang fukd

I'm sitin here

Al gotdam stuk 

I fel lik bronco

Gotdam buckd 

Lik rabits foot

Aint got no luk 


I wrot dis thing

Cuz I'm dang sad

I did not kno

It fel so bad

Wen yu mes up

Wat that yu had

(I kised my hors

An he got mad)




The Bus Is A Metaphor


Under the bus

My problems go

So I can save some face


No one is left

To drive this thing

And now I'm stuck in place






Dirty ass sewer bird

Big-dicking around the park

Like the whole world owes you something


Offensively stupid gutter fowl

Sticking your filthy chest out

Like you didn't just try to eat a rat turd


You obnoxious, ugly step-child of dinosaurs

Heaving your grubby body skyward

Making an absolute mockery of flight


Teach me how to be as cool as you




Fresh snowfall


Glistening glittering gems

Fragile bits of starstuff

Wispy, muted, soft erasure 

Wrapping the earth in cozy silence


And me

Drunk as fuck

Cackling a shit-faced challenge to the moon

Taking a huge hot piss all over everything




Where to Keep Stuff


Friends - close

Enemies - closer

Potential Killer - really super close

Peanut Butter - cool, dry place

Feelings - inside you (never let them out)

Mattress - above box spring

Eyes - on the prize

Family - N/A (could be friend, could be enemy)




Makes No Difference


When shooting stars pass by the earth

They wish upon us too

Guess everybody wants to be

Less ‘them’ and much more ‘you’




Excerpt From the Diary of Sir William Highfalutin


The dragon was vicious 

I shook in my britches

It roared, ‘I eat human flesh golden delicious!’


I was quite suspicious

That I was nutritious

But telling the beast’d probably be inauspicious 


My mind so capricious 

To think fate propitious

For only to come to an end so flagitious


Ah, me, avaricious!

Misguided, ambitious,

To ponder-


(Note: The remainder of the diary was burnt away, thank god)




Commencement Speakers 2017


His shaky sweaty fingers found the water glass at last

He had no business speaking to the graduating class

He looked into their eyes and mumbled (after a small cough)

'I honestly had no idea that bitcoin would take off.'




Rebranded Cereals


Frosted Flakes - Moist Sugar Dandruff

Cheerios - Tiny Plain Donuts

Raisin Bran - Raisin Bran 2 (The Reckoning)

Fruity Pebbles - Chewed Up Fruit Loops

Lucky Charms - Marshmallow Appropriation 

Trix - Let The Rabbit Die Cereal

Cookie Crisp - Literally Stale Cookies 




The Basement


What happens when a theater shuts it’s doors for one last time?
When guffaws gamboled willy nilly fade into the grime?
When goofy shadows dance in half-remembered pantomime?
And squeaks and squawks of rusty dusties peal a final chime?


They say two deaths await a soul, the physical is first
The other is the final time your name is thought or cursed
And though the space has passed, it’s stage finds second life anew
That stupid goddamn treasure’s run will live as long as you




Action Acts!


Jump to conclusions

Fall from grace

Leap of faith

Jacknife of serendipity

Stop drop and roll to liberties

Cannonball from charm

People's elbow of fortune 

The worm to diligence






Hotdogs are gross sacks of meat
Filled with extra stuff no one knows what to do with
Dressed up all pretty to trick you


First the first time in my life
I know who I am


I am hotdog. 




Tongue Fucks


A bunch of old friends who engage in group sex,

Stumbled upon a nice playground at rest, 

Played willy-nilly, then like men possessed 

Sorted the area at my behest. 


A set of swing set swing swinging swingers

set a set of swung swing set swings.



A tiny cutting instrument

Destroyed a toy so intricate,

It hacked with evil sentiment

And seemingly, no stimulant


See a small saw saw a small see-saw.






Grandma is thankful for time with her kin

Father is thankful he bought enough gin

Sister is thankful the kid’s table’s gone

Uncle is thankful the football game’s on

Brother is thankful the baby took naps

Puppy is thankful the baby throws scraps

Though the whole family is silly and quirky

Everyone’s thankful (except for the turkey)





The Ides of March

(My dog)




Serving Suggestion


Revenge - cold

Tennis - overhand

Infidelity - on a bed of lies

Jealousy - very salty

Betrayal (Caesar Style) - no spoon, no fork, twenty knives

Legal Documents - with a cool catchphrase 

Drama - family portions

Fajitas - sizzling




Flower Power


I was slapped by a dozen purple blossoms

And in that moment

My bouquet of violets 


A bouquet of violence 




Lobster Fest Official Statement


Lobster Fest is canceled, folks
Due to a heinous prank
Someone dunked the clown into
A boiling water tank




Mirror Me


Mirror me spoke up today as I was popping pimples

'How's it going, loser me?' he said with grins and dimples

'This side of the mirror I'm a rich and happy bloke!

Must be tough for you since you're so sad and oh so broke!'

Mirror me stood tall and smug, but wilted when I said,

‘Must be nice, too bad you've still got my face on your head.'






Cheers to my years, blowing past like a geyser 

After this drink I will be one drink wiser


Cheers to my peers, those who call me a friend

After this drink we shall all cheers again


Cheers to my tears, falling steadfast and sure

After this drink I will cry for one more


And cheers to my fears, singing negative song

After this drink I'll go prove your ass wrong 




Subway Fart


When someone farts on the subway

It turns into a murder mystery


It's probably the dude with the giant mustache

Or the homeless guy dressed like a butler 

Or the lady eating a rotisserie chicken with her bare hands


Everyone looks around surprised

But one of us is a fucking liar


At any rate

No one leaves until we get to the bottom of this




Chaos Theory


They say that a butterfly flapping its wings

Can cause quite a number of ruinous things


The wind it displaces might grow in a hurry

And build to a storm that destroys with such fury


A small simple stretch from a Monarch or Snout

Is enough to cause earthquake, tsunami, and drought


But what they don’t tell you (and that which is true)

These flutters and ripples cause good events too!


When landing your dream job you shouldn't chagrin

It was due to a butterfly browsing Linkdin


And when you get lucky and laid, there’s no doubt

It was due to a butterfly rubbing one out


The little bug waving it’s wings to and fro

Are why we have movies like Dunkirk and Blow


So in all things good, bad, and neutral it’s shown

A butterfly acts as our wingman unknown




Say Something


Shoes have tongues and books have spines

So when you see an act unkind

Stand up for what's good and right

Or else you're Crocs or worse, Twilight






I picked up a pet from the local pet store

And I'm not really sure if it's dog, fish, or boar 

It has feathers and fur and some whiskers and tails

And it screeches and squawks as its gambols and flails


It slouches and mumbles and bites its nails raw

It chews very loud, its clothes don't match at all

It never says 'sorry' or 'thank you' or 'please'

And it won't wash its dishes or cover a sneeze


It talks through the plot points of movies we watch

And it spreads when it sits (so to aerate its crotch?)

The longer I ponder the more I believe

That my new furry horror may be a pet peeve




Carpe Diem - seize the day

Carpe Denim - seize the rugged outerwear

Carpe Diadem - seize the horocrux

Carpe Deist - god seizes nothing

Ouroboros - a snake eating it’s own tail

Oreoboros - a double stuffed cookie eating it’s own cream filling

Orzo Borris - a Russian man eating his own short-cut pasta

Aouros Borosealis - a dazzling natural light display

eating it’s own positively charged photons

C’est la vie - such is life

C’est la via - such is my ride share service

C’est lobby - such is the entrance to my apartment building

C’est la de la ba di - such is the Eiffel 65 hit single ‘I’m Blue’




Cool Dad


I chipped a tooth, I snapped my wrist

I broke my toe and got a cyst

I lost all hearing and all sight

And now I have an overbite

My hair fell out, my knees are shot

I got a fever running hot

I'm covered now in rash and scab

And all because I tried to dab


Let this be a lesson, son

Being cool is not much fun




Hallelujah 2017


It's raining men

What did we do to deserve this?

They are trying to explain rain to each other as they fall

Just the concept of rain

god is dead

That's not thunder, they're high-fiving 

That dude is somehow manspreading the sky

One of them is hitting on a curvy cloud

Where did they all get vape pens from?

This is how it all ends






I'm full of poise, I'm full of grace

I'm full of charm and wit.

And much like most who brag and boast

I'm full of fucking shit.






Capt'n had a map

The 'x' was marked, but wrong

The greatest treasure of them all

Was in us all along


So Capt'n looked me up and down

(The rest ye probably guessed)

He didn't get my purple prose

And stabbed me 'treasure' chest



Dog Feelings


when you are jolly
you look like a collie
you jump up and down 
and you beam ear to ear


when you are spellbound
you look like a greyhound
you cock you head sideways
and listen so dear


When you are smug
You look like a pug
You face scrunches up
and your grin becomes clear


when you are horny
you look like a corgi
cuz you are a corgi
I have sex with dogs




The Monster Under A Teenager’s Bed


I am a beast
of a nightmarish class
I have scales down my tail
and a nice supple ass


I am putrid and vile
and fueled by my hate
except for my ass
like I said that’s real great


I will feed on your fear
and your raging hormones
I will rip off your flesh
and I’ll twerk on your bones


the bump in the night
when you wake with a snap
is the sound that you fear 
when my fat booty claps


and the last thing you’ll see
‘fore the darkness takes hold
are my gleaming red eyes
and my super tight folds


and the question you’ll ask
when you wake with a scream
‘were the things you saw real
or another wet dream?’




Casey Is the Bat


The Mudville 8 were out of luck, for Richard Sprat was hurt.

He broke his ankle sliding poorly into home base dirt.

Without a team of nine the Mudville brave, a forfeit faced.

The crowd of 13,000 wore their colors with disgrace.


But on the board an unfamiliar name replaced ol' Sprat,

A 'Casey Wood' was playing third and he was next to bat!

The fans all stood and craned their necks to see this Casey boy,

And when they got a look of him they roared unbridled joy.


They didn't roar because he was a man of strength or good,

For Casey wasn't man; he was a goddamn piece of wood. 

The other team protested, but their anger was in vain.

There were no rules against a baseball bat playing the game.


Casey stood but three feet tall; he was a rod of oak,

He had a pair of googly eyes in some attempt at joke.

The ball boy propped our Casey up, the umpire signaled 'start',

The pitcher threw a heater and the first strike was a dart. 


The bat was unconcerned, he showed no signs of shame or fear,

The crowd was loud and cheered him on, but Casey had no ears.

The second pitch was called strike two, and they began the cry,

A glorious Mudville chant, 'C'mon now Casey, hit it high!'


And as pitch three came to the plate the wind knocked Casey down.

The deed was done, the bat was out, the hero of the town.

The crowd came to their senses and they murmured in dismay,

'I can't believe we thought a fucking bat would save the day.'




Millennials Are Killing The Proverb Industry


The grass on the other side may be more green

But it's 1080p on my new tv screen


A stitch in some time may in fact save you nine

But just buy a new sweater on amazon prime


Don't count your chickens before they do hatch

Unless it's a pre-ordered fresh direct batch


The early bird may get the wormy most sweet

But the early post doesn't get many retweets




Doctor’s Orders


The dusty musty book embossed 
A thousand years of knowledge lost
It's edges worn, it's paper shorn
Containing dearths of facts forlorn


It opened with a crinkle crack
It's pages slowly peeling back
It’s finder, sick, here searched for clues
From Doctor’s words on what to do


The book contained (within it’s spine)
A dogma of forgotten time
An artifact of age gone by
Before the ash became the sky


She read its ode and fell with grace
Thin lines of pain upon her face
Her final words felt like a noose,
‘We should have listened to The Seuss’


A person’s a person, no matter how small

-The Seuss




Romeo & Cigarette


SCENE II. Outside Capulet's Bodega.




But, soft! what light through yonder Deli breaks?
It's nicotine, and Cigarette is my fix.
Arise, fair fix, and kill this envious jones,
Which is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fun than she:
It is my lady, O, it is my brand!
O, that she knew she were!


CIGARETTE enters, coughing profusely


She coughs yet she says nothing: what of that?
Her lung discourses; I will answer it.
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she hacks:
See, how she leans her filter on the floor!
O, that my lips would sit upon that floor,
That I might suck that butt!


fuck me!


She speaks:
O, speak again, bright menthol! for thou art
As glorious to this buzz, being o'er my head
As is a wing'ed messenger of heaven.


O Romeo, Romeo! whatfore smoke thou Romeo?
Deny thy doctor and refuse thou quit;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a bad habit.


(Aside) Shall I hear more, or shall I spark at this?


'Tis but bad press that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a marlboro man.
What's marlboro man? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, smoke some other line!
What's in a name? that which we call a cig
By any other name would smell like shit;
So Romeo would, were he not smoker call'd,
Retain that dear addiction which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, fuck thy health,
And for sobriety, no part of thee
Take all myself.


I take thee at thy word:
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;
Henceforth I’ll never puff another fag.


My filter's not not been kissed a hundred times
from that tongue's countenance, yet I know the sound:
Art thou not Romeo and a marlboro man?


Neither, fair shaft, if either thee dislike.


How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?


With love's light wings did I o'er-perch thine pack;
For cellophane wrap cannot hold love out,


If you do smoke me, they will murder thee.


Alack, there lies more cancer in thine tar
Than twenty of their swords: look thou but lit,
And I am proof above their influence.


By whose peer pressure crave'st thou of my butt?


By love, who first did push me to a toke;
I bumed a pall mall and he hooked me thus.


But trust me, Marlboro man, I'll light more true
Than those that have more packed into their tubes.

ROMEO points to a sign that says ‘Beer’


Lady, by yonder neon sign I swear-


O, swear not by the sign, the fluorescent sign,


What shall I swear by?


Do not swear at all;
Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy ashtray mouth.


Wilt thou leave my cravings unsatisfied?


What satisfaction crave'st thou of to-night?


The exchange of thy love's stinky butt for mine.


I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!
Anon, cashier! Sweet Marlboro man, be true.


So thrive my soul--


A thousand times good night!


A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.


'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:
And yet no further than an addict's brand;
Who lets it stray but little from his hand,


I would you were my brand.


Sweet, so would I:
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night! Parting is such a drag,
That I shall say good night till morrow's fag.


Cigarette Exits


Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy pack!
Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to hack!









When I die

Let me come back as an ostrich


A yoked-up sac of ignorant hate 

with knives for a mouth


A spiteful pool noodle 

with a meaty fist for a brain


A downy rage-ball with two emotions:





The thing god made right after PCP

And right before whatever he hoped would eat ostriches 


Make me that

Or a manatee 




Muffler Fucker


A muffler fucker fondles tunnels

Tucking his luck and hoping to buck


A muffler fucker ducks and shuffles

stuffing muck and sucking trucks


A muffler fucker always hustles

Full of pluck he runs amok


A muffler fucker's member suffers

Scuffed junk from rough trunks




Guy From Boston Sitting on a Toilet


I ate a lotta

Old frittata

Now my ass is

Spittin' watah


Go Sox.




It Could Always Be Worse


A zombie with class
Moans without any sass
As he munches and crunches and lunches on ass


A mummy with grace
Doesn't dare to efface
When his wrap becomes trapped and unravels his face


A vampire, though vain
Doesn't think it a pain
When a blood dribbled flood falls and makes a big stain


All three agree it could always be worse
Being alive, now that's the real curse.
















Love Stuff


Fall in love with me
It'll be cool
We'll both be like, 'dang, this is super dope!'
We'll laugh when we hear the train go bing-bong
Because of that inside joke we'll have
Man, that joke is hilarious


Fall in love with me
We can do love stuff
The stuff we hate to see when we’re not in love
But mostly we’ll just wait to say that MTA joke
Seriously that shit is so funny
‘Bing-bong’, haha




Cave-School Blues


My stegosaurus followed me to school today
He makes an awful racket when he wants to play
His tail impaled our teacher but it's all okay
Because of mental trauma now we all get A's




It’s Time


The good times were good
the bad times were bad
And though now’s the time where you may feel quite mad


The time that we’ve spent
Those times we were brave
Are surely worth more than the time we’d have saved


It’s time now to go
The time’s now for change
Of course it’ll feel rather awkward and strange


But time doesn't stop
A clock ticks anew
I promise, my friends, I will make time for you




One Eye Open


Now I lay me down to sleep
To count some mother fucking sheep
If I should die before I wake
Then god just made a huge mistake


I'll kick the gates of heaven down
And scream, 'alright you fucking clowns!'
I'll interrupt a holy mass
And put my boot up Peter's ass


I'll choke an angel with their harp
And find a cloud that's good and sharp
The Trinity will sputter spit
A Father, Son, and Holy Shit


And through the chaos I'll descend
Amongst the living once again
My warning echoed through the fog,
'When I come back there'd best be dogs.'




And Chill


Needle deeper
Be the martyr
Twist the knife a little harder


Take the high road
It's less traveled
Watch my patience come unraveled


I won't rue
My being choosy
Next time you can pick the movie






You suck, my friend, and I do too
We suck at many things we do


Sometimes I suck and know I should
Sometimes I suck when I am good


Sometimes I suck and spread the shame
Sometimes I suck and I'm to blame


Sometimes I suck because I blow
Sometimes I suck and never know


Sometimes I suck and can't say why
I always suck when I don't try


You always suck when you don't try
We always suck when we don't try


You gotta bomb and suck and blow
And give your dumb shit time to grow


and when that shit is good as fuck
Guess what? Sometimes you still will suck!


So henceforth when I suck I'll say,
'I suck right now and that's okay.'




The Ballad of Pretty Boy John


Pretty-Boy John

Was a Wild West thug
Had a heart made of coal
And a beautiful mug


He stole heads of cattle
And relished a fight
He held up a bank
And his ass was real tight


The no good




The History of My Beard


At first it grew in patchy splotches
Random bits of fabric swatches 
Creeping out in mismatched notches
Textured rough like unkempt crotches


And that's where we're at as of today.






Why don't feet look more like hands then?


How come monkeys don't make air conditioners then?


Why is gazpacho cold then?


Why is dipping dots never the ice cream of the present then?




This Is The Title Of The Poem


This is the start
Where the topic imparts
And you learn of the rhyme scheme
And cadence


This is the art
Where the words become smart
And with puns we make fun through


This is the part
Where the poem has heart
And you feel a reward for
Your patience


This is the dart
Where I make you say ‘fart’
And you realize the poet’s
A sadist




If The Guy Who Named The Walkie-Talkie Was King


Sneezy Wheezy - Influenza
Fixey Witch - Doctor
Billy Bard - William Shakespeare
Cheeky Speaky - Gossip
Slappy Grabbies - Hands
Moldy Oldie - History
Pantie Shanty - Closet
Drench Trench - Bathtub




The Delicate Art Of Bathroom Selfies


Sexy flex!
Sexy flex!
Suck it in and puff your chest!
Change the angle
Change the light!
Change the filter


Sexy flex!
Sexy flex!
Make your body look complex!
Moody hairdo
Moody eyes!
Moody background


Sexy flex!
Sexy flex!
Put your ego to the test!
Take the photo
Take a look!
Take another-






Superman is big and strong
He stands for good and rights the wrong
He's brave and kind and selfless too
But Superman is not like you


You are stronger I recall
You are not a man at all




Thought For Food


I gobble praise and admiration
Feast on words of affirmation
Feed me views
Share my news
My sustenance is validation


munching, noshing, watch me swallow
comments, likes, subscribes and follows 
Pay your dues
Be amused
My belly’s full, but I feel hollow




Knot For Me


I'm stuck, I suck
I'm out of luck
I'm trapped right in the middle
I stink, I think 
Just like a sphinx 
Without a damn good riddle

I blow, I'm slow
I cannot grow
But also cannot shrink
My glass is brass
And tastes like ass
But thirsty, I can't drink


But through the good 
and bad 
and twixt the neutral I still sigh:
'Although I cannot win 
or lose, 
I'll never wear a tie.'




Green Eggs and Ham: 2017
(Or: Why I Quit Serving)


I will not eat the eggs and ham
I'm vegan locavore I am!


I will not eat a pig or cow, 
I will not eat a fish or fowl, 
I will not eat a milk or cheese, 
Sometimes I will not even breathe.


I also can not eat this bread, 
I'm gluten free inside my head.
Not celiac, just gluten free,
I have a real fake allergy!


No there's nothing to back it up, 
and that's what make's it very tough - 
could you get me a cleaner cup? 
This one is clean but not enough.


The soup is cold the salad's hot,
my chair and table creak a lot
they creak a lot my salad's hot
the soup is cold, that man is old.


I can't sit next to older folk,
their wrinkles make me fucking choke.
My daughter ate her cup and plate,
she needs some crayons, she creates!


I'd like to split the bill as well, 
I am alone but what the hell? 
I'd like to split it 40 ways,
Yes 40 ways is how me pays.


Here's a Discover, and some cash,
a check, and season 4 of M*A*S*H, 
an amulet that's very cursed,
oh look a tourist, they're the worst!




Creepy Crawly


I'm used as bait and stomped by boots
I'm squished and squashed on sidewalk routes
They see me squirm and judge my core
I'm half a nuisance, half ignored


I'm not a worm, I'm only poor.




Get Good


I practice to improve
And soon (with any luck)
I'll know enough to know for sure
How much I fucking suck






The feet are jealous of the hands
For pointing where to go
The hands are jealous of the feet
For running the whole show


The eyes are jealous of the ears
For ears don't have to see
The ears are jealous of the eyes
For eyes can't hear their plea


The mouth is jealous of the ass
For keeping such tight lips
The ass is jealous of the mouth
For talking so much shit


Next time you're jealous of someone
For being them, not you
Remember someone somewhere's surely
Jealous of you too






The curtain falls
The roses fly
The actors bow
The critics sigh


The people leave
They go to bed
The ideas sit
inside their head


They go to work
And they don’t know
That they’re been changed
That they have grown


They’ll use their hearts
And that’s the power
Of the arts




What's in a Name


Kids should get to pick their own names
Then we'd have way less Fionas
And Phils
And way more Batmans 
Ice Creams 
And Dump Trucks




Say It Don’t Spray It


There was a man lacking precision and grace, 
Who’s discharge would travel all over the place. 
His penis would bark,
The seamen would arc,
You might say that he could not keep a straight face.




The Island of Half-Finished Thought


I come from an island of half-finished thought
Where homes stand half built using iron half wrought
Where men-folk make love with a half-erect dick
And women fake orgasms one half as quick


I live on an island of half-baked ideas
Where a stray anxious thought breeds a twice half-baked fear
Where half of what's yours equals half of what's mine
And half a Chris Pratt equals two half Chris Pines


You aren't from my world but you'll soon understand
That you aren't quite a stranger to this foreign land
Where the tower of Pisa is only half-leaning
And phrases like half-assed gain wholly new meaning


The island’s my brain and it’s never complete
filled with thoughts (like ‘socks are to-go bags for your feet!’)
But it's nice to remind us that if we're all honest
We're all full half-finished thoughts that entwine us


And all of the thoughts that are inside your head
Are important so cherish them while you're not dead
Cuz you're more than your body and more than your fates
And you're more than the drama your island creates


As we're all just half-finished thoughts standing in queue
And the others in line are all half-finished too


I come from an island of half-finished thought
And I'm made up of pinches of knowledge half taught
And sometimes I'm blind and sometimes I see
And sometimes I'm trapped and sometimes I'm free


This island’s half-finished, but always provides
it’s complete when you start letting others inside




Can I Help You?


Ring the bell for service
Really go to town on that thing
Tickle that metal nipple till it screams
Slap the shit out of that naughty bell
Don't stop till I tell you
Take your gloves off and raw dog it
Grip it and rip it
I want the other stores to hear
Finger blast that fucking bell
Earn your service
The safe word is 'refund'
Make me say it
Spank that dirty hunk of metal like you mean it






If you fuck up
Take a deep breath
And play it real cool


I'd like to think
That's what happened
To whoever invented toast




The Raver by Edgar Allen Bro Pt. 1


Once upon a midnight bender, I was fucked up I remember,
Over many a cheap and potent vodka red bulls that were poured.
I retired to the shitter, for a puff off my one-hitter,
Suddenly there came a pitter-patter at my restroom door. 
’Tis some diesel bro,’ I muttered, ‘tapping at my restroom door -
Just some douche and nothing more.’


I was in between semesters, seeking but a brief sequester,
And each separate empty mixer gave me courage on the floor.
Drunkenly I wished for closure; - vainly I had sought composure
From these drugs surcease of woes pure - heartache for my failing scores -
Marks which me left no choice but to withdraw, sans degree and poor-
Dropping out for evermore.


And the clumsy sharpies drawing cocks upon the dirty walling
Thrilled me - filled me with weed induced visions never felt before;
So that now, to stop the geeking of my brain, I started speaking
'Tis someone who smelled the reeking ganja through my restroom door -
Just calm down and stop from freaking out inside this restroom door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'


Presently my buzz grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Bitch' said I, `or bitches, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was toking, and get paranoid when smoking,
And so faintly you came poking, poking at my restroom door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Sinks and mirrors, nothing more.


Deep into the mirrors peering, watching my reflection sneering,
Waking shattered dreams all twenty-somethings fear down to their core;
Silence grew there, like a cancer, and the darkness gave no answer,
And my plans to be a dancer vanished with the words, `My scores!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back 'your failing scores!'
Merely this and nothing more.






One cup of coffee awakens the mind.
Bittersweet sips make the morning feel fine


Two cups of coffee awakens the soul.
Warmth spreading inwards to make you feel whole


Three cups of coffee awakens the body.




L1F3 15 1N 5TA515
1 AM G0D FAC3L355






One Small Step


If the moon can have a dark side
And nobody gives a fuck
I can stay in bed all day
And order delivery
And maybe be too sad to even eat it
And you're just gonna have to be okay with that


If the moon can affect the ocean's tides
Just by existing
And everyone is like, 'good job moon!'
I can pay the interest on my student loans
With my credit card
And expect a little validation


If the moon can eclipse the sun
And get its picture taken
And it doesn't even have water
I can get drunk too much
And look at photos of myself in high school
Because I'm full of water




Crayola Colors: Rejected (Accepted)


Placenta Magenta (Razzmatazz)
Inner Darkness (Outer Space)
Sequined Foreskin (Metallic Gold)
Buscemi’s Eye Bags (Chestnut)
Indigo Girls (Mango Tango)
Hot Breath (Manatee)






'The thing to remember,' the dying man croaked,
'Are the three strongest weapons you have when provoked.'
'Compassion is first, and when used like a sword,
'Will slice through all hate like an axe through a board.'
'The second,' he whispered, his light fading fast,
'Is knowledge, with which moral judgement is passed.'
And with his last breath, the third weapon dispensed,
'... The 2000 Baltimore Ravens defense.'




Get a Real Job


The venders jam-packed every part of town square
Each competing for focus and hawking their ware 
In the center, a man of a strange disposition
Began his illusionist street exhibition


He magic'd a top hat and magic'd a cape
He magic'd a dove, turned it into a snake
He magic'd a bouquet of roses (long stem)
And all the while bellowed, 'come see, Bethlehem!'


He handled the crowds like an old puppeteer
And (with slight-of hand) produced coinage from ears
But before his last trick a man ran by and said
'Everybody come quick, some dude just raised the dead!'


He watched as his dwindling crowd disappeared
Entranced by 'real magic', the street artist feared
He took his last bow with an audible sigh
He couldn't compete, fuck that new Jesus guy




Traffic Light


Red means stop
Green means go
Yellow means be careful


Blue means sky
Green means grass
Black means you probably didn't listen to the first part




Poppin' Off


'I quit!' she exclaimed with a stamp of her foot
disturbing a pile of unsettled soot
She raised her umbrella and rose a few inches
And turning, face burning, said 'listen up bitches,


'I sang and I danced till I calloused my feet,
I spoon-fed you sugar to get you to eat,
I showed you a world that should awe and astound,
We rode a demented-ass merry-go-round!'


'But it wasn't enough, still your air is atrocious,

Your super callus fragile Ids are extra damn precocious!'






I planted a rant
I watered a woe
I preened and I screamed and I watched contempt grow


I weeded out logic
I fertilized gumption
I made a nice scarecrow just out of assumption


I harvested hate
I jarred it in glass
And that's how I opened a can of whoop-ass




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