Jack Kerouack

Beat Poet, Jack Kerouack,
Was an aphrodisiac,
For a Little bit of my libido,
I went, On The Road,
With, The Dharma Bums,
All the way,
Incognito.

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Ironclad Irony

Irony is:
A girl who was found not guilty by reason of insanity, for the crime of, tying her father up, to an ironing board. And burning his knees, plumb off his legs. With an iron.
Is sent to the state hospital to be rehabilitated.

She ironed his head a little too.

Her father now has knee replacements.
With knees made out of iron.

Iron knees.

Ironies.

She is later seen at the State Hospital, in the laundry department, with the job title of: “Head Ironer”.

During the preparations for the Halloween festivities, she has a pair of straw stuffed jeans, for a decoration of a fake person, with a pumpkin head, tied to an ironing board. Ironing the knees.

Instead of carved out triangle eyes, the pumpkin head had his triangular eyes, singed in. With an iron.

Ironically, The girl and her father were both named,
I. Ronnie Irons.

Can you find any wrinkles in this story?
===============

This story was just that. A story.
But it was inspired by a true story. Wherein, a 13 year old girl was forced into an incestuous relationship by her father. The young girl retaliated by stabbing her mother, with a pair of scissors.

If I remember right, the father had left the scene. And now the step-father was raping her. And her mother didn’t beleave her on either account. And was rather mean about it. By slapping her face and calling her a liar.

She then turned the scissors on herself in an attempted suicide. She also had issues with alcohol and drugs. So she was sent to an adolescent treatment program. Where she once, twice and three times, again. Attempted suicide with scissors.

The irony there was: Everyday in the schoolroom, she was cutting out paper dolls, with scissors!

Posted in Cats Cat-e-gory, Poetry/Doggerel/Prose-ack/X-Cons/Whatever?, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

I Wish I Was A Gambler

Ohhhh I wish I was a gambler
Gambling away
All my hard earned money
Each and every day IIIIIIII
I Would play with Kenny Rogers
And shoot him in the face
A gun shot wound is more effective
Than a can of mace
Heee would get reconstructive surgery
And land back on the TV
Doing infomercials
About his glory days
He was unrecognizable
No one knew who he was
They all wanted to shoot him
Just be-fucking-cause
He dodged a barrage of bullets
But they all missed
One hit Dolly Parton
Right there in her tits
She flew around like a rag doll
Took off into space
No one knows if she landed
We haven’t seen a trace
That’s what happens when you gamble your soul
In the name of God’s good grace
You wind up unrecognizable
And lost in outer space.

Ohhhh I wish I was a gambler
Gambling away
All my hard earned money
Each and every day!

Posted in Original Songs, Poetry/Doggerel/Prose-ack/X-Cons/Whatever?, Song Parodies | Leave a comment

Sup Sup Sand Sasway!

Sup Sup Sand Sasway!

 

I once met a man, who I thought for sure, was, Christopher Reeves (with an S)

It was at a bar & grill, in Jackson Hole, surrounded by reddish Autumn leaves (more or less)

I may have had a few, maybe a few too many, since none is usually my usual limit

The lights were as bright as the sunset, inside, my dullard mind, said dim-it

Dim-it all to hell, please

I got to Jackson Hole, WY, in my 379 Peterbilt XH, powered by a 475 CAT, way ahead of schedule.

Having plenty of time to kill, I found and frequented one of the local bars there.

I was getting pretty hammered.

When, in walked a familiar face.

It is not too often you get to see walking faces.

Familiar or otherwise.

And to be quite honest, I was more familiar seeing his famous face, fly.

And boy was I flying high, when I walked up to him and said:
“CHRISTOPHER REEVES! CHRISTOPHER REEVES!
HOW’S IT GOIN’ SUPERMAN?”

With my hand extended to shake it up with one of my favorite stars hand’s.

Preferable his right.

He also put out his right shaking hand (phew) to meet mine and said:
“Oh, OK, but No “S”. So how are you?”

As we were not shaking left hands I said:
“OK Uperman, Man of Teal. I’m fine.”.

He laughed, as did the close on-lookers, while we were breaking up our handshaking bond.

He said pointing to his light blue shirt: “Actually, this is Aqua”.

Which opened up a whole new conversational array of Superhero, beverage and colored doors.

So if there were no S’s and I was sending out an SOS.
I would ju t   end out an   O

Fa ter than a   peeding bullet
More powerful than a locomotive
Able to leap tall building   in a   ingle bound
It’    uperman!

True   tory!

===================
When the local news station (10/11 Strong) announced the death of Christopher Reeve, which was an ongoing story for 3 or 4 days. Every single time they said his name, they said: “Christopher Reeves”. Not once did anyone from that station ever say his correct (No S) name of “Christopher Reeve”. (Or Uperman for that matter) Since I had actually met, and been corrected for the same mistake, by the Superman man himself. And was a big fan. I took it as my personal duty and responsibility to contact the TV station, (numerous times) and demand (even beg) for them to make an apology and correction. They ignored all of my pleas. And stood by their error. As a matter of fact. I even told this same story on their comments section. Which did not make the moderators approval. And was not published.

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Antisocial Reform

Antisocial Reform

I don’t care if a Condor soars
As long as I have my skivvies and drawers
To catch the feces it scares out of me

Now I don’t care for a Condor swoop
Cause I know it’s gonna make me poop
And I’d much rather not have to change

Change is the platform I voted for
Now I’m sitting here shitting on the floor
Its such a mess, won’t somebody please come and help me?

Maybe a Doctor, maybe a nurse
Maybe a comforting Bible verse
Maybe a firm talon grip to fly me the fuck away

I once flew on a big jet plane
Made me wet and a little insane
Thinking of the power to propel 300 people 700 miles an hour

Well now the hour is getting late
And I don’t know if I’ve sealed my fate
Guess I’ll just have to wait and see

The sea is shining from one side to the other
Every-one is a sister or a brother
Even if they’re an only child

Children listen now to what I say
There is a lot more out there than the USA
And some of it may be just as great, Some may even be better?

Better than before is always the goal
So many times we sink into the same old hole
Why can’t we stay afloat and Why can’t we all just get along?

Along bounced a storm of reform with basketball sized hail
Broke records through the veil, killed a man, a Condor and a whale
Wasn’t much of anything anyone could do, ‘cept for maybe not seed the clouds

Clouds are like pillows that are overhead
The dead Condor swoop, I no longer dread
But shit stains are a ship that already sailed

Sailing through shit is not easy to do
Sometimes seems like we live in a zoo
And I have always kind of liked whats inside evilC or D bras

ZZZebras are much too enormous and big
Doesn’t have to be too much bigger than Isaac Fig
Newton and defying the laws of gravity

There I go again with glandular depravity
Some old bags are colostomy (co-lost-o-me)
And I swear, together, I can’t be found

Oh no…

I don’t care if a Condor soars
As long as I have my skivvies and drawers
To catch the feces it scares out of me

Now I don’t care for a Condor swoop
Cause I know it’s gonna make me poop
And I’d much rather not have to change

Change is the platform I voted for
Now I’m sitting here shitting on the floor
Its such a mess, won’t somebody please come and help me?

Posted in Original Songs, Poetry/Doggerel/Prose-ack/X-Cons/Whatever?, Song Parodies | Leave a comment

Paid Shills For, and or, Against, Planet X Nibiru

What is Planet X Nibiru?  (I am not an authority)
One of the top results for that search is over at  http://beforeitsnews.com 
Since I first read about it, in about 2002, I think it was… I check back every few years to see how it is dong. I’m not positive, but I think it was supposed to have, pretty much, taken us out, a few times since then. Well, we’re still here… And it is not… Yet… But, when you’re trying to calculate a 3600-something year orbital rotation. You’re bound to be off by a few years.
Well, I was just at the aforementioned site, From my google search “Planet X Nibiru” After about a year since I last searched that subject. Whether or not the above site, is the same site, I visited from previous searches regarding the subject? I just can’t say.

So… I was reading up a bit on the latest… Like many sites, they have a comment section below the story. And sometimes, the comments can be more entertaining than the story itself. Especially if the site allows flaming. There seems to be a feud between a user named “Confederate” (I think it is) and a user named “Anonymous”. Every time Confederate says something defamatory or derogatory to the story, Anonymous answers back, calling Confederate a “Paid Shill”, 

I just joined   http://beforeitsnews.com  and gave myself the user name of “Masked and Anonymous” From my favorite Bob Dylan movie I have never seen. (All the way though anyway… About 2 Weeks ago, I saw the last 1/2 hour for the very first time. I hope to see it all the way through one of these days). 
I submitted the subsequent poem as a story at: http://beforeitsnews.com/stories/category/2012.html 
I don’t think they’re going to publish it though. The moderators have had it for 4 hours now. But I did include the word Whoop-de-fucking-do. So I guess I can’t blame them.  
Well, here it is
Subject: 2012
Title: Paid Shills For, and or, Against, Planet X Nibiru

I would get a thrill out of being a paid shill
But still…
Joist as Planet X Nibiru must have been
Back in 2010…
To keep it from taking US out in 2012
Let us delve…
Does that mean it is void of existence?
Why No… Just passing through resistance!
Like urine in the bladder of a man with an enlarged prostrate
If there is life after death, in a few years, we can sit-in on a seance, with a Medium, Charles Manson and Sharon Tate
I was really scared in 2002,
The last palindromic year until 2112, when, according to Rush, the meek shall inherit thee Earth!
Can we make it another 99 years?
Through all of the pain, poverty, greed, death insanity, anxiety and fears…
99… The slightly below average IQ of mare than just a few…
142… A genius, whoop-de-fucking-do…
It is not going to save you!
Oh Planet X Nibiru, Oh Planet X Nibiru, Wherefore art thou?
Are you out creating a new constellation that looks like an oxen and a plow?
I heard one moron say you were between us and the Sun.
I like having invisible fun!
Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it is not there.
It is in another dimension
One of demolished comprehension
One of the deaf, dumb and blind
One where we left our foresight behind
One where the meat of the watermelon is in the rind
One where you can sit on your ass, be a paid shill, instead of out working on the grind.

by the Bastard of Doggerel and Disastrous Head Poetaster over @ evilCozPoetry

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Night Habit (Lasts 36 Hours)

 
 

To the tune of White Rabbit
By Grace Slick

Night Habit (Lasts 36 Hours)
By Clive

One Pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you hard
And the ones that your brother gives you
Keeps your dick like fucking lard (That fucking rat bastard with his saltpeter thinks he is so God damned funny)
Go take Cialis
When your soft and small
 
And if you go with humping habits
And you’re always so soft and small
Go tell your fuckmate to wait a minute
evilCoz you’ve got to go take a pill
Take Cialis
When your soft and small
 
Gay men on the lez bored
get off and tell you where to go
And now your dick is like a mushroom
Never mind about getting blown
Go take Cialis
I think you’ll grow
 
When logic and proportion
Have fallen sloppy head
And your white knight is erect four hours
And the sirens quiet cause you’re dead
Remember what the side effects said
Now you’re dead
 
Now you’re dead

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