I once had a turtle named Opie. It got out of its cage, stole my credit card and painted the town red in its little turtle shell. So, I brought the little guy home and put him in a steel reinforced cage, I had just bought for the Oompa Loompas in my cellar. Well, somehow, he got out again, and this time, stole my credit card, and
my car and went boozing and whoring. I cried for my turtle that day, because when I got him home, I had to run it over with my car. It was costing me a fortune in whores that I never got to fuck, and booze I never got to taste. It had to be done. I feel awful now, and would like to think my little turtle named Opie is in turtle heaven, whoring himself to all the finest turtle ladies, and having a great time. Sometimes on still nights, I hear my car start up, and think...maybe that's Opie just taking her out for a spin....one last time. Let me tell you. I WAS WRONG!! IT WAS ONE OF THAT LITTLE TURTLE BASTARD'S FRIENDS. So, I ran HIM
over with a car too. -The End Top
I used to know this girl. Her hair smelled really good. But for some reason, every time I looked at her, I wanted to cry. I don't know why, but I just couldn't control myself. So, I put a paper bag on her head, and sewed it on with an unsanitary surgical needle. I think she got some sort of horrible infection, or something, after that and her head fell off. I don't recall exactly. All I know is that I didn't have to look at her and cry any more. But sometimes, I miss the smell of her hair. -The End Top
I Doubt it HAD to Be Studied
I had a piece of ass once. The authorities came and took it away, said it needed to be studied. Didn't say why. They just ran in, kicked my ceramic owls over, said "THIS HAS TO BE STUDIED MA'AM," and walked out. On the way, the scoundrels kicked my poodle Ingrid. I didn't understand it all, until this very day three years ago. Turns out, it was a very special piece of ass...one that threatened the very safety of our country. The authorities gave it back to me some time after they took it, in a little piece of tupperware. My how that piece of ass had changed. They made me promise never to open that tub, or terrible consequences would be afoot. Five minutes after they left, I opened it. Turns out, that special piece of ass had an unstoppable flesh eating virus contaminating it. It wiped out all life on earth. Except for me, because I had let it loose. I was its master. I lived for thousands of years on the bloated carcasses of those humans...but, that's another story all together. -The End Top
Bob loved his wife very much. Oh so very much. But, there was something about the way her left eye twitched that drove him crazy. The constant twitching. The incessant twitching of that left eye. Day and night. He could see it while she slept. Well, on their 25th anniversary, Bob snapped. He did the most practical thing he could think of. He stabbed his wife in the eye with a red hot poker. As it turns out, the poker wasn't very hot, and he had forgotten to use the pointy end. Well, he knew Margaret (that's Bob's wife) was not the forgiving type, so he bludgeoned her with that poker until she was quite dead. He then proceeded to put her body in a plastic garbage bag. Well, there was a problem in his simplistic plan, taking out the trash had been his wife's job, not his. And being a routine man, who would never change his routine, he let the trash sit. For a week. For a month. For five months. Eventually, he forgot to notice the smell. Or the filth, or the large number of cats that seemed to be coveting the garbage he left to sit. Somewhere in that garbage was his wife. Years went by, and garbage piled up, and up, and up and up. But, being a routine man, who didn't change his routine, he let it sit. Well, one day, he took his last breath of the noxious air, and presently died. Was it the filth that killed him? The grief for his lost wife? The diseases of the cats? Or perhaps, was it something more sinister. Perhaps the ghost of a woman with a horrible twitching left eye? I'll let you be the judge. Top
Time For a Commercial Break
I have pet kazoo. I named it Pete. It hums like a bee. I'm going to teach it the words, so it can sing like a bird. I love my kazoo, and it loves me. I recommend you all go out and hug your kazoos. What's that? You don't have a kazoo? Well, I recommend you go adopt one. There are thousands of abandoned kazoos all across the nation, waiting for YOU to make a difference. Please. Adopt a Kazoo today. Make a difference in one of these little guy's life. If not for you, for them. Operators are standing by to receive your calls. Top
Watch Your Hedgehogs Closely
I once had a hedgehog named George. One day, George began thinking of all the things he had never seen. Never experienced. No one to this day knows for certain what triggered George's curiosity, but I'm going to bet it was the world atlas we kept propped up on his cage that did it. Top
The way You Make Me Feel
Every word you speak is like cold steel in my side.
Deeper and deeper with each loving word.
Words meant for her, and still spoken to me.
You know how I feel.
You know my pain.
You know the knife is in your hand.
Deeper and deeper with each tender word.
Deeper and deeper with each tender slice. Top
the doves are cooing, mourning some loss I've already forgotten.
I close my eyes and feel the breeze chill my blood
an ill omen of darker days to come
I rub my arms but I'm already dead
years shaking off my skin
littering the ground with a thousand lonely suicides
I look up and see the moon falling from the sky
a fir'y ball scorching the earth
scarring the souls of babes and their mothers
faces leer out from broken mirrors
all holding ashes between their teeth
blood breaks it banks
children writhe shaking off the sores of past wisdom
canyons close up,
swallowing the skyline in beautiful fire
and the doves still coo.
the doves will always coo. Top