One day, the whales all vanished.
So did the dolphins.
And pandas.
And Tasmanian Devils.
And every other species on the planet.
Besides humans.
Then, the lights went out.
Things got really nasty right around then.
You’d think there’d be
A voice
Or something
Telling the human race
“What the fuck?”
A dramatic pause
For emphasis
And then:
“I turn my back
For a few centuries
And this is what you come up with?”
Followed by
A long
Heavy
Sigh.
There’s no point telling
What came after that
Because the
Whales
Pandas
Dolphins
Devils
Really don’t give a shit, Man.
Tag: dirty
Dog Suit
You know that show where the guy’s dressed in a dog costume?
Leave it to the networks to take a good thing and ruin it.
Everybody’s wearing dog suits now.
And unlike that show where the guy’s wearing the dog costume, the first show with one, it doesn’t work at all for them.
It’s not the writers or the actors or the directors.
It just doesn’t work. You can’t just Cousin Oliver in a guy in an animal costume and make it work.
Except on the evening news.
But Dianne Sawyer is wearing a catsuit.
Ratings have never been higher.
The Hypocrite
They showed me the activist’s profile.
“Professional protester. Trust fund baby. San Francisco.”
They let that out slowly: “San Francisco.”
Photos of a Pride parade, love and peace.
I saw him in a Gaza City cafe, sat down, and said “If I shouted Gay and you shouted Jew, who would they kill first?”
“Don’t,” he begged.
Where’s your pride now?
Coward.
That night, in bed, I told my boyfriend.
“Fucking faggots,” he said, and he held me as we laughed.
When I heard he was dying, I wrote him.
Wished there was a cure for his condition: hypocrisy and hate.
Ode To A Troll
if i could press
a magical button
and wipe you
from existence
i’d press that button
but
i wouldn’t just press that button
i’d press that button
in style!
there would be a parade
with elephants
and horses
while marching bands played
girls in short skirts
twirling batons on fire
and old men in fezzes
what are they called?
shriners?
shriners!
went around
on those scooters.
and bringing up the rear
a massive cannon
that would fire me across
two football fields
my hand outstretched
smacking that button
and sending your
ugly
disgusting
evil
miserable
vile
obnoxious
ass
to
hell
The Princesses
The legendary Silk Princess concealed the worms, baskets, looms, mulberry leaves and other means of production in her headdress to steal the industry from China.
The Stationwagon Princess, on the other hand, stuck all the components and supply-chain of the auto industry into her headdress in an attempt to smuggle off the mystery of stationwagon production to her people.
The similarities end there.
Unlike the Silk Princess, the Stationwagon Princess has no legends surviving into modern times. Also, unlike the highly-valued silk, nobody wants stationwagons anymore.
So take off those ugly-assed stationwagon panties and get your ass to bed, dear.
Unlike Johnny
Unlike Johnny Appleseed, Louie Landmine was a real prick.
He went around the countryside, planting landmines.
Every so often, you’d hear an explosion. Another victim of Louie’s vile project.
Prick.
Whenever Louie got arrested, he managed to make bail.
Or, if the judge didn’t allow for bail, his attorney would win the case.
“Where’s your evidence?” he said. “Were there any witnesses? Anything to match his fingerprints to left?”
The jury would usually end up hung, or find him not guilty.
Until the court managed to find twelve of his victims to pack a jury.
They shot him at dawn.
Paris Rehab
Remember that cokehead heiress actress chick?
You know, the spoiled bitch who went around with a little dog in her purse?
They checked her into rehab again.
Same old shit:
Get wrecked.
Get headlines.
Get clean.
Get out.
Get wrecked again.
We did our best to get her into Betty Ford, but they put her here.
Shit.
But this time, we tried something new.
We ignored the chick and worked on the dog.
Poor beast was traumatized by all the fast cars, parties, and drugs.
Teacup Chihuahuas shake, but not like this.
We’ll get him adopted.
(But the chick’s hopeless.)
Dolly
When people asked Dolly Parton what she wanted people to say about her in 100 years, she’d say: “Darn, she looks good for her age!”
When the zombie outbreak swept across the country, Dolly was one of the many millions roaming the streets moaning “BRAAAAAAINS!”
Well, not exactly moaning. She still had a bit of that sweet friendly twang to her voice. Some say she’d toss in a “Howdy, y’all!” and “How ya doin?”
The plague was contained, she was caught, and after all these years, her still-groaning corpse is in Examination Pod Nine.
And, damn, she looks like shit.
Sniffing Glue
She tells me that I have no fucking clue.
But, truth be told, I have no glue
Without the glue, my thoughts don’t stick.
I draw a blank, I don’t know dick!
She says:”Make a note and write it down!”
Do you take me for some dumb clown?
Of course I write it down on notes.
And then I lose them, this shit blows goats!
The doctor wants to scan my brain
He hopes that scan just might explain
Why I haven’t ever got a clue
Is it okay if I tell you?
(Alright, I’ve sniffed way too much glue.)
I can hear the television cameras
They say I am the Bobby Fischer of Tiddly Winks.
I say I am better than he was at… at…
Play chess?
Piss people off?
Hate Jews?
Whatever he did, I am better at Tiddly Winks than what he did.
He had his board, his pieces.
His outbursts.
I have my squidger, my winks, my mat, and my cup.
Blitz! Blitz! Blitz!
Pot them all fast!
One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six!
Now I wait for my partner… and…
NO!
COME ON, YOU COULD HAVE MADE THAT SHOT!
Hurry up! Hurry up!
Hurry up, doctors…
Hurry up and clone me!