12/15/2005

Dancing through the snow

Dancing through the snow, with an M-16 by his side, Santas gone mad! So children run and hide!
He'll rape your mother so, rip off papas toes, hang fluffy by the head and scarily laugh ho ho

Oh--Grenades fly, Reindeer die, houses go up in smoke. Santas wife has a knife, right through her fucking throat!
Oh-People die, through the night, boy it aint no joke, Santas homosexual so watch out he might poke!

Running with a knife, he'll chase you through the night, hoping that you'll die by 2 strokes by midnight.
He'll shoot up you whole house, not quiet like a mouse, watch out for his gun-hes surely having fun

Oh--Grenades fly, Reindeer die, houses go up in smoke. Santas wife has a knife, right through her fucking throat!
Oh-People die, through the night, boy it aint no joke, Santas homosexual so watch out he might poke!

Dancing through the snow, Santa wife was a ho, she did it with the elf, who had a big big nose.
Once he got pissed off, and chopped that elves wiener off, he liked it so he said--all elves should be dead!

Oh--Grenades fly, Reindeer die, houses go up in smoke. Santas wife has a knife, right through her fucking throat! Oh-People die, through the night, boy it aint no joke, Santas homosexual so watch out he might poke!

One day Santa Claus, got busy with a ma, fucked her so damn hard, he sent a greeting card
Miss Claus did find out, she started to demand out, untill Santa dick, popped off in her mouth

Oh--Grenades fly, Reindeer die, houses go up in smoke. Santas wife has a knife, right through her fucking throat! Oh-People die, through the night, boy it aint no joke, Santas homosexual so watch out he might poke!

Jail is not sexy, look at Santa and you will see, hes digging up a ditch and hes Bubba's fatest bitch. His death sentence is near, and Santas being queer, but dont you worry kids-its almost new years!

Oh--Grenades fly, Reindeer die, houses go up in smoke. Santas wife has a knife, right through her fucking throat! Oh-People die, through the night, boy it aint no joke, Santas homosexual so watch out he might poke!

It took a sniper man, with a really nice tan, to get the shot that hit the spot that killed that jolly man. Kids they do now cry, for reasons we know why, Santa went to hell, with a hole between his eyes.

12/13/2005

Chair

I can't stop winning. I cant, I need to buy more and more. I win more cases I buy more things. I buy a chair I wont sit in. A table I will never eat at. A china set I will never use. I buy a gun to keep me safe so that the criminals I save, dont kill me. I need the new shirt and pants to make me feel like a new man. I need it every week. Its like an addiction I cant, nor do I want to stop. Not even God could stop this madness of purchasing. The economy without me would be in shambles.

The cig slowly burned. Smoke filled the room. He grabbed the cig from his mouth and ashed it on the freshly new red carpet. He put his feet up on the table in front of him and kept smoking. The nine mm in his right waved around as he spoke. "Do you know why I am here" he said in his scratchy voice. When your tied down in your favorite dutch wood $150 dollar chair, saying no is easy to say. "I know you do" He said as he waved the gun in my face. He looked like a hobos hobo. His long light brown hair drew away from his hard lived wrinkled face. His dark blue eyes bore into my soul through all the smoke.

The sound of a smoke alarm blaring in the night doesnt make me feel better. Nor does the fact that no one is coming. The sound of being alone drowns out the sound of the smoke alarm. I would ask who he is, but I know who he is. I've seen him before. I just dont remember when or where. I start crying when the smoke dries up my eyes. I start to countdown the people or things I hope love me.
10.God
I only believe because it makes me look good in the community
9.Jesus
I am the hypocrite
8.Mom
Oh I do love her so
7.Brother
What a dumbass
6.Dad
He can fish
5.My girlfriend
She reminds me of my mother
4.My Dog
My dog???
3.My Chair
Its so great and lovely
2.My Money
Need it, want it and should go get it
1.My Style
Mine
This was the wrong day to wear a red outfit. With a gun dancing by your head, you start to remember a million a memories at once. The day dad and I caught my first fish. That night mom burnt the cookies for christmas or the time I duct taped my brother to a tree. My mind cant focus on the thought.
"Dammit, FOCUS!" he said as he slapped my face with the gun. Great, a red mark on my face to match my outfit. The day dad and I pushed the boat in and he fell in the lake or the moment my brother farted so bad during a choir concert that people in the back row fainted. "YOU MADE ME DO IT!" he said loudly. The gun emerges up and he shoots. The bullet cuts through the air and pierces my chest right below the heart. It was just perfectly below so that I would not die but blood would gush out for hours as I grimace in pain.

You wouldnt notice I was shot. My outfit covers it up nicely. "You know who I am and why I am here." he says so confident and relaxed. Between the intense pain and the want to use your hands to cover your wound, you hardly push out an answer of no. Even though I was in pain, my memories kept flooding. The time I made it into the law firm. The first huge paycheck. The day I bought the chair. No one not even I sat in the chair. Not until now at least. The once brown wood chair is covered in my blood. My head has now become like a large weight that my neck struggles to hold up. I remember reading about the poor chinnese child who made my prescious dress shirt.

"Fuck, stupid ass! Think harder!"He screams to me. I remember the kid from first grade I told was the worst kid alive. I remember telling my coworker that nothing could stop me from winning all this money. Except a homeless man who would tie me up. The irony. I keep thinking but my eyes cant stop looking at his. I know him, I have seen him before. I think of going home alone. The nights I sat in my nice expensive apartment decked out with stuff I dont need, drinking a bottle of scotch and crying to myself. Just last night I tried to kill myself. Lucky for me a soliticer called seconds before I cut my wrists.

He points the gun at my head and asks "Do you live to die or do you die to live?" He looks like a blur, and I cant hear him. I would cry but I cant. I cant speak nor move anymore. I pull my head up just high enough to be eye level with the barrel. He slowly pulls the trigger back and I watch in slow motion as the bullet is pushed through the barrel by an explosion. Then finally as the bullet breaks through my eye I finally figure it out.

Who would have thought that God was a homeless man? Not I. I have always lost and now I finally win. I hope the coffee tastes great.

Just so you know

Touching your private parts doesnt always mean you are masturbating

Kelly Clarkson is not a good singer/musician

"I dont know" Is not a good answer when someone asks if you have had sex

Just cause you sag your pants doesnt mean you are ghetto

Putting socks in your underwear does make your bulge look bigger and full of lumps

Its all good till your girlfriend whips out a cock bigger than yours

Live with the motto "I draw the line at 49"

Once again-Men smoking light cigs and wearing sandals does not make you look cool

If you brag that your penis is 10 inches its really only 5 inches fully erect

Drinking brand name and only brand name beer means you have no taste

Making up words for no reason does not make you look good at all

Old people should be left alone to die peacfully

Not all drugs are drugs unless they are drugs

Smoking ditchweed will not make you look like a stud

Just because you can bench alot, doesnt mean you can talk shit

Its takes time to give your private areas rug burns

American Africans speak two languages-English and Black English

Dont name your child after a plant

Dont act through life as if it is a sitcom--You will look stupid if you do

Good Charlotte is not a punk band

Dont touch yourself in a crowded area.

Dont eat the yellow snow or the extremely shiny sticky white snow

Wearing socks and only socks does not look good unless you are a girl

Idiots dont know what the word 'enlightened' means

12/12/2005

ladeda

May we forever condemn slavery but tell our children how good it is to have elves slave for a fat man.
May we pray to God with the intention that he will change our lives, make us richer and rid us from our depression even though we know God will not.
May we drag our feet through as if carrying our cross.
May the old die,and the young live.
May one of our three wishes be a wish for more wishes.
May we one day rape the raper so he will later rape us.
May we guzzle down the liquid from the cup of death.
May we smuggle the drugs of inner freedom over the border of society.
May we reap what we sow.
May we realize that few of us have money in the bank of inner truth.
May the poor drink the spit of wealthy.
May the wealthy eat the poor mans shit.
May the depressed laugh and the others cry.
May we drag our cross across the floor.

Unicorns

May the unicorns run freely between the crosshairs of our guns.

12/11/2005

every seed matters

DEAD AIR... dont breathe me in says: Hey
The Prophet your mother warned you about says: what do u know
DEAD AIR... says: everything
The Prophet says: really would you care to elaborate
DEAD AIR... says: i know what your boy did last night.
The Prophet says: what was that
DEAD AIR... says: he was with me
The Prophet says: i see
DEAD AIR... says: so where were you?
The Prophet says: when
DEAD AIR... says: last night
The Prophet says: around
DEAD AIR... says: hmm
DEAD AIR... says: you know this is all hypothetically fictional
The Prophet says: what is
DEAD AIR... says: my name
The Prophet says: of course
The Prophet says: so is every ones religion
DEAD AIR... says: do you ever think that this is just something some one made up a long time ago to make us think we're safe?
The Prophet says: i think the moon landing was staged
DEAD AIR... says: it pretty much was
DEAD AIR... says: the shadow was in the wrong spot
The Prophet says: elvis and jfk and rfk and john lennon are still alive
DEAD AIR... says: where are they?
DEAD AIR... says: i would marry lennon if i could.
The Prophet says: in an abandoned fallout shelter
DEAD AIR... says: lets find them
The Prophet says: have fun
DEAD AIR... says: haha
DEAD AIR... says: so what have you been up to?
The Prophet says: creative destruction
DEAD AIR... says: would YOU care to elaborate?
The Prophet says: i am waiting for the second coming
DEAD AIR... says: brb
The Prophet says: and putting the fun back in funeral
DEAD AIR... says: hey thats my job..
DEAD AIR... says: but a nuerse just came by... so i'll be away for a while
The Prophet says: dont get injected... they do random involuntary government tests now
DEAD AIR... says: haha
DEAD AIR... says: i spend the night in the hospital
DEAD AIR... dont breathe me in says:(too late)
The Prophet your mother warned you about says: doomed i tell you


yep... she got skullfucked and didnt even know it... she pretty much got skullraped

12/06/2005

Blade of nothingness

With a knife to your throat, you can only wish that a clean swipe will end this wasteful thing you call your life. You naturally grab the blade and try to pull it away. The blade is just pressed hard to cut a little bit of your throat, just to warn that one wrong move meant death. Before the blade swipes across your throat piercing your jugular and sending you straight to the floor in your own pool of blood, you begin to think. Who was that red head you met?

Before the blade moves, your mind traces back to the day you were born. Suddenly you remember stuff you could not remember when you were two. You remember the feel of your mothers vagina as latex covered hands grabbed your head and you pulled out. Suddenly a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember your mother crying but not knowing why.

You start to remember the first day you spoke and the words you tried to say. Then you remember the first book you read. At that time, Hustler, with a few sticky pages was a great read. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember your red haired mother drunk off her ass slapping you for not brining her your money from your piggy bank.

Memories of you acomplishing things in school. A grade A in history a B in Science and an A+ in Health. You remember coming home to your mother getting anal fucked by a big fat black man while she sucks the town rich fucks dick clean. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember coming home at the ripe age of 15 to your mother naked. She was sitting on the couch with bottles of booze all over the floor. You remember her asking you "You wanna fuck your hot ma?"

You remember how many days and weeks you spent thinking of the plan to clean up your life. You remember coming to your mother baking cookies. You stood by the kitchen entry naked wearing hair net and holding a silenced pistol in your crossed arms. You remember raping your mother and taking the pistol to her face. You remember the blood splattering on the couch. You remember the bits of pieces of her head flying out all over. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories.You rember dragging your mothers naked carcuss and cutting into smaller pieces. Each piece you took and boiled at exteme temperatures till nothing was there anymore. You remember taking her jaw and bashing it into small pieces and sprinkling into the many pots you cooked. You remember cleaning the gun and driving a hundred miles to bury it. You remember cleaining the house several times over.

You remember the cops coming after you called and reported her missing. You remember the questions they asked. you remember them not finding her. You remember the day you gained faith in God.Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. You remember the day you lost faith and the day you got it back. You remember your first girlfriend and your last girlfriend. You remember growing older, getting smarter and poorer.

The blade is piece of metal sharpened just right to slice a hopeless beings head off. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories.You ask the knife holder to at least let you see who it is. The person drags you over to a mirror in your lonely apartment room. The person is revealed. The red hair flows down the neck of your angel. Again a flash of a women with red hair appears in your memories. Before you know it, everything is black and empty just like you remembered.