electroman1979
on Friends Forever? by nicole081083
9 Jul 2004, 9:52 PM
i like it, good poem
I don't entirely agree with it, but I'm not judging you're opinion, I'm judging the poem, and the poem isn't that bad.
You are trying to sensationalize being a tramp, which is unacceptable. What if an impressionable youth were to visit this site, read your poem, then decide to quit school and become a tramp, believing it to be "hip" or "cool"? They'd be injecting drugs into their scrotum within a week.
Very very very creative, Audrey, love ya to Hell<3
Not much better on rewrite. What really are you trying to say?
I can only assume, given that you have spelled Splinter with a capital S, that you are referring to Splinter off of the Turtles. But what sight could be so horrible that it would make your head literally turn into Splinter off of the Turtles? This poem really doesn't stand up to scrutiny.
The title promises shoes, but the poem only disappoints. To me, there is nothing more erotic than a cardboard box full of sweaty trainers.
Yes, I suppose so.
O,
bugger off.
Yes. You sound skeptical, though. I'll admit I haven't always been the best team player, often spending long periods of time indoors and away from other children. But it was through studying footballers, and crustaceans, that I learnt about the importance of cooperation and mutual understanding. For example, large prawn colonies in the southern pacific have been known to stay together for hundreds of generations, spanning periods of over fifty years. Large teams of marine biologists who specialize in prawns have spent a good deal of time researching their social interactions.
Teamwork, really?
Childhood was the most painful time of my life.
It was only later that I learned that pain was caused the huge growth of my vast penis causing a massive strain on my pelvic floor. It was not until I was diagnosed as having the largest cock in the whole world that I was able to apply for a grant from local government to have a brace made for my legs and back to support the colossal weight of my huge throbbing member. So I will thank you not to write about childhood without reference to children who are afflicted with such terrible afflictions.
And what about the islamists, eh?
Childhood was a difficult time for me. I was frequently snubbed and tossed aside by my peers. In desperation, I turned to the Lord for guidance. He told me to hold my head up high and keep praying. During the long hours of Bible study, I developed a fascination for crustaceans and watching football. It was at a football match that I first learnt about the values of teamwork and a steadfast commitment to excellence. Pretty soon I was able to apply these qualities to my everyday life, furthering my understanding of crustaceans and their habitats. That night I didn't sleep, but stayed up praying to Christ thanking Him for sharing His wisdom at what was a difficult time in my life. The rest, as they say, is history.
Would you let a guttersnipe, wipe, the tripe, out of your poo pipe? or are you the type, that would swipe, the ripe tripe, like Michael Stipe?
Johnny can 21 jump street me anytime. nice.
Though quite touching in its meter and cozy reflection, some childhood recollections don't match up. For example, no "other's truths to embrace or reject," suggests I always agreed with my parents. And I had some "negative thoughts with which to cope." Sometimes I was not "unburdened by sorrow." Well, you get the point, and I'm getting yours - that adult life brings on an unwelcome complexity of worries. But maybe they're just more current.
Today I have uttered the following sentences which, I believe, have never been uttered before. But the ideas aren't new, are they? I'm sure they've been expressed countless times before, but in different ways!
"If they invented a stealth-cow, that could climb trees and dig burrows, would you consider eating it?"
"If you could afford to employ a butler to wipe your bum, would you?"
"What if he was really intelligent, but the only thing he couldn't understand was bums and the wiping of bums?"
"So you'd let an intelligent wiper, who didn't understand bums or the wiping of bums, wipe your bum?"
"Given the isolation boothe scenario, would you prefer a retard wiper or an intelligent wiper who couldn't comprehend bums or the wiping of bums?"
"With an intelligent wiper who did not understand bums or the wiping of bums, you could discuss Important Matters Of The Towne whilst he wiped, provided those matters did not concern bums or the wiping of bums."
Perhaps we are the enlightened ones. Or, maybe we're just odd.