My Art Aint a Meat Dress

*raises a toast to your forthcoming nuptials, and good luck with all the busyness this month will provide you both. we'll keep your seat warm for you :rose:*

see you asap!
 
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and he's married

damn,

moving is a pain in the arse
this gal has more shoes than Imelda Marcos
but oh lordy,
do I worship her.

Loving Her

Atoms boil in a self consuming soup
as the malevolent sclerosis attacks.

She amazes me

for this saint annihilates lament,
besting the bitter malice cracking her spine.


My Darling,
You are the dream impossible,
confirming my life as bountiful;
'tis you, stung by the irresolvable,
who bewitches my spirit as plentiful.

We'll be home in a week or so.
 
useless drivel written during a damn garage sale

chunky monkey

268587_2245495981057_1357882987_2627067_7412316_n.jpg


annoying is this need to mate
excess in search of bliss--
accoutrements that exist
to entomb serenity.
cluttered testaments to linoleum
only line the prado-pockets of the false.

give me generic jeans and cigarettes,
an apple from the field,
words to feed my brain,
and her to keep me sound...

oh shoot,
perhaps a ben and jerry’s chunky monkey
on a warm summer's eve
might be ok, too.





*******
the picture is the sole property of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream and used without any permission whatsoever.
 
*raises a toast to your forthcoming nuptials, and good luck with all the busyness this month will provide you both. we'll keep your seat warm for you :rose:*

see you asap!

Thanks chipbutty--I can't wait to get home. It's been insane the last three weeks. I need to start working again to get some peace.
 
two fer one sale at the boob clinic

Janeth wrapped the treasure with great care
sustaining the required pontification to laud crap.
Her job sucked, but the meagar check paid for her boobs,
which were on lay-a-way
at the two-for-one breast implant clinic.
And that’s important
because her boobs meant she could fuck Mr. Thompson,
who owned the store.
Mr. Thompson didn’t give a shit
as long as he could orgasm,
and she could sale baubles
to fools like Jethro
who worshiped his three hunnert dollah Jordans--
a pathetic testament to the welfare checks
that line the pockets of hedonistic gods.
 
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