Sunday, October 01, 2006
excuse me lady... is this your vulva?
I hate computers. I had a huge update and shite
and my MAC said "nope" and erased it all.. Heck Yeah!
Be afraid....be very afraid.........
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It’s in the neon night like tonight that brings a smile to my simple soul
We all used to carry big guns and big hearts and big ass goofy smiles.
Now we carry roadmaps that we refuse to consult and trophy wives who
stab at our hearts with scrap booking scissors.
My t-shirts are worn out and stretched to the fabric’s limit.
My memory just the same.
My phone calls are less frequent and almost always bill collectors or
paranoid mothers.
I met the Devil the other day and asked for a miracle, and he said to me…
“You don’t got squat to deal with.”
I offered up my soul and he said to me:
“Like I said, You don’t got squat to deal with.”
Here I am now… sitting slightly hunched as fat men do…
Hitting the “Fuck off” key over and over again with the same constant outcome.
The city outside teems with sin.
The hookers crying between tricks and praying to various God’s.
The volcano’s erupt and the pirates dance.
The mexican’s pass out free soft-core porn with little multi colored
stars covering the nipples.
The pyramid light penetrates the night sky.
Neon everywhere begging to be seen.
I see you.
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skin bones and plastic jewelry
dressing like a little girl in the body of a forty five year old.
Clinging to and humping the leg of youth.
Fucking eighteen year olds for an injection of that ageless fountain.
She is dying her hair black with pink highlights to hide the incoming gray.
Listening to the latest music while rocking out in her car with the music full blast in front of her sons high school.
Taking note of which football players look her up and down.
Future conquests.
When she isn’t at the local drum and bass nightclub on the weekend, or
When she isn’t pole dancing in the cheap local strip clubs.
She drinks in her room and cries off half her painted face transforming into
a horrible smeared beast.
Mrs. Hyde in a push up bra and crotch-less panties.
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Elvis and a shotgun and a bottle of Whiskey
They lied to God when Elvis died.
God waited for Elvis to arrive…
Never showing up.
The Devil didn’t have a clue as to where he went either.
The human being found it’s shotgun and got liquored up.
Shot God from the sky.
Fired a round into the dirt and took out the devil.
All while listening to “Hound Dog” as loud as humanly possible.
They days are sunny and warm and the nights are dark and cool.
Humanity the merry prankster has won yet again…
thanks to the very dead corpse of Elvis Aaron Presley.
Hey, the more feedback I get the better shite writer I become...
the better writer I become, less time you have to spend reading crap!
"Fuck-a-doodle-doo!"
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Goodnight from...Captain PirateFace
P.S.
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