god'swife
on some deleted poem
14 Oct 2003, 10:49 AM
By the way, the rhyming of I & II are about as clever as it gets. I think you could stand those up next to anything Ogden Nash.
What a tender slice of crap.
Mue
The first time I've ever seen pigeon poop maintain its meaning at 55 mph. I have to give that a 9. Though you are, disturbingly still, the ugliest man alive.
Because you're an asshole?
A joyfull work of quivering rotten will. A maggot pie. a tapeworm pasta salad.
I'm part of the Manson family on the WB. Pthptttt. I'm a fucking killer. When I'm not growing squash on the ranch. I'm cooking sharon tater tots.
I couldn't get past the second stanza. However, if you put in more crowing voles and less homosexuality in Hayzeuses bum I might eventually give it a zero.
Beautiful, an utter down pillow of pretty sweaty nights in Peking.
some deleted user
on some deleted poem
14 Oct 2003, 12:47 PM
Lovemaking makes squelchy noises.
http://www.oxfordstudent.com/2001-02-22/ox2/2
You must be the one in the black jumper and pink lipstick. I do hope the Prosopography of Anglo-Saxon England Project is going well. Cheers. Yep. Cheers. Bye. Yep. Bye. You too. Cheers.
"The modern story, involving the torture of an American journalist (David Smith) by a military doctor (Alex Burghart), and the journalist's rescue by a soldier (Stephen Karam) is merged into myth when the characters take on new identities: the doctor as Hermes, messenger of Zeus, the solider as Prometheus, and the victim as mankind."
The last time I was a "solider"? I was a giant chunk of Gay Dry Ice. Repeatedly refusing to melt I smoked like an angry crack, an grunmbling volcanic gourge making the tourists lick their finger and staple huge flaming peeneye to their foreheads. Unfortunately, a young wisened lad with an industrial condom fork came along and threw my heaving cloudy carcass into the rubbish where as I then wept to death next to a head of buzzing kale.
A dose of something... indeed.
way to rule a website. i'm sure it pays off severely in your personal life.
PLEASE COMENT ON FRASER ALLONBY'S POEMS!
You should flog yourself with it (the soggy thing) haycock as many of these discarded fuzzy critters together as you can and we'll gas them up and jump into the piles with lit cigarretes! For a big Joke! Aint that creative! We'll call it "The anti shriners foundation" and march on pennys.
Much better than I would have done with the same subject. I've come across more than one separated-from-it's-owner stuffed animal in my travels. i always wonder what happened to the owner.
This is the first time I've bourne witness to the lighting 'up' of a queef, and rest my soul this will be the last.
google this, fucker!
Beautiful and sanguine 9