I started a secret club. It’s called THE SISSY CLUB. The member are mostly Goths and dudes that just dumped. We all sit around and bitch and drink wine coolers. Why are we all so mad? No one gets it. Because we hate everything. We all want to die
We all want to shout.
We all want to sleep.
We all want to drive lamborgini diablos.
We are all sissies.
We will never do anything.
We are nothing but cold sores on a bitch lip.
Theres a girl made of a blacklight.
She glows so supersonic.
Like a King’s rings.
She is the ugliest beast I have ever seen.
Her teeth like cheetos and her forehead like a volleyball.
She smells like gym teacher cologne.
She sounds like Gilbert Godfrey.
She gives off wonderful light (in the dark)
She gives off stench in the light.
People throw beer cans at her (in the light)
But
In the dark she shimmers like things should.
Zima
A drunken fireman was writing his name in the snow, with his pee.
An angry cop was burning down a 7-11.
Just so he could piss on it.
A deaf gym teacher was getting a big gulp and a Slim Jim.
The Ku Klux Klan was having a dance party at the community college.
And D.J Skribble was high as fuck and spilled Zima All over his turntables.
The Time and Place of Things.
Inside a Fantasy Realm. I met a girl who had a dream catcher tatted on her ankle.
She was wearing Fila ankle socks. She took me home. And showed me flavors of food I have never tasted before. She had pretty teeth and a pet snake. She showed me how to take my time. But, when I left her apartment I forgot it.
Oh shit someone broke into my house!
There has been a burglary!
Police!!!!!
My privacy has been spoiled.
But, wait. What did they take?
My T.V and DVD player are still here.
My jewelry is here.
My antique knick knacks are here.
My baseball cards are here.
My care is in the drive way.
Those bastards.
They stole the sleeves of all my shirts.
There flowers growing in red cups. Waiting for funerals to interrupt. Then they get all bundled up and thrown inside a pick- up truck. That’s when we the snow started to fall. On the 45 mile drive to Angels Ball. And we decided the drink the water from your magic 8 ball. And we got real sick. We jolted and spit for hours. Then they gave us a a funeral without flowers.
I only laugh really hard when Metal bands sing about being “COLD” because I FEEL IT.
Julia ordered a 5 foot party sub. Then she choked a sun chip.
The crowd went wild.
