Thursday, November 2, 2006
They smell of smoke and bacon is strong.
Friday, March 4, 2005
A poem to commemerate a very fun 45 min in an mmorpg.
Laying on the beach one night
flailing my willy out of spite
and pounding sand with all might might
I came upon a thought... not... right...
Why not make a train says me?!
I could probably gather two or three
friends to jump and yell with glee
and join the elite bourgeoisie
So stick in hand I drank a potion
standing right beside the ocean
showing the zone my fierce devotion
rubbin Masis with suntan lotion
You sir you madam come come and couple
with my merry train so supple
please oh please do not uncouple
oh look, now, we are quintuple!
The train she grew to sizes large
twas a free train...with no surcharge
a train containing no-one named Marge
You know who'd like that? Jordy Lafarge
And still it grew and became immense
containing only Huggers I did sense
it GREW~ and I spare no expense
this thing behind me should not condense
Then suddenly not two, not six
coming in from distant sticks
hooking up and did affix
then turn their eyes and were transfix
an explosion of Huggers did appear
HOLY SHIT some heard me cheer
this train was huge oh my oh dear
yet still i stayed and persevere
An explosion of people came to duck
not happened on us with just luck
my pleas of help some were struck
to come and help its size run amok
Golems, monks and Necros too
came to join a frog named Boo
who duties he did not eschew
takin up the roll of fool
When the call for Time did arrive
all those with me did shuck and jive
my train creation come alive
in numbers reaching thirty-five
Monday, February 21, 2005
Dark light streams in through shutters cracked
some presence lurks and breathes
it's breath is foul
its nails long
its teeth are sharp and green
It makes noises when it moves
it's jaws make clicking clacks
it's nails going scraaaaaaatch.
Across the bed it comes towards you
a huge and gnarly beast tis true
hair so long
with tangles tight
it wants to eat you up...
there's nothing you can do
Pulling the covers really tight
and wishing you had your mummy
it creaps over cross your legs
and reaches for your tummy
opens up its gaping maw and bites down as if to chew
Your heart begins to race,
but before you get the chance
the door to the room
and a bright light begins to dance
Like magic the beast is gone and in its place
sits your cuddly teddy bear named Boo
looking soft and snuggly
sitting happy, smiling there
and Daddy's at the light switch and he smiling down at you
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Key of Night ~ By Boo
The day was coming to an end
Sun setting noisily in the distance
birds adding their addendum to the waning light
with chirping in the key of "Night"
the day gave no resistance
From the door a creak was heard
a symphony with the squeak of the swing
then the patter of soft soled feet
the rustle of the leaves complete
as they went off dancing
Clinking cups of sweetness
drips of cold falling like rain
onto her outstretched arm they ran
minute rivulets of water swam
glinting softly as the days light wane
Taking drink she looked at his face
pursing lips she stare
drinking deeply of his eyes
seeing his truth, no buried lies
glass long forgotten... unaware
Her hand grasps his and pulls
his willingness to follow is blatant
he falls beside her enthralled and tense
entrapped willingly, touch making sense
his amour is strong, yet patient
Embraced fully they sit upon the swing
one being between them just
the light of the day has vanished
the feeling grows not banished
this essence built on trust
Yet still they sit and swing
gently gently tween the trees
inhaling together under the moon
his heart is taken, they swoon
enveloped by the breeze
Sunday, July 25, 2004
Not something I believed in before...
and question now
and questioned then
and will question later
I feel like I have known the essence of this soul
in another place
in another time
in another world
I sense we knew each other long and well
shared a cab
Could be we brushed shoulders once
on a stair
on a plane
on a bus
I don't know the answer to this question, only what I feel
~ behold, I smile ~ Boo
Thursday, July 17, 2003
2) Oggle his well defined scrotum
3) Rub his genitals while doing #2
4) Hang with Mert while doing #2
5) Play with anything you can get your hands on... like Fez's scrotum
6) Make sculptures with stuff... like Fez's scrotum
7) Make snide remarks about stuff... like Fez's scrotum
8) If called upon to speak, spout the most assinine stuff you can think of.. FEZ HAS A HUGE NUT SACK!!!!
9) Do #3 some more and #8
10) Do #3 to the Mert
11) Write essay on the relative humidity of Fez's scrotum versus that of the Alaskan Field Grousse and have room for bibliography.
12) Get in some boxing speed bag training when his legs hang over the edge of the bed.
13) Spank yourself in the ass and say "Who's yer daddy?" over and over while he lays oblivious to your looming body standing above him legs straddling his limp form.
14) Grab his free pillow and beat him with it till he wakes up
15) Give him his glasses so he can see who it is beating him
16) Lay down next to him and hump his leg madly like some coked up ressus monkey.
17) repeat until he cries
18) Tell him you love him, and that you do it "because" you love him. This has the side affect of making him question why he likes you to begin with.
19) Take your 3 year old daughter and throw her at him while he sleeps.
20) Remind yourself that he REALLY likes when you do that.
LOVE THE FEZ, LOVE HIM TILL HE BLEEDS.. and not in the way that he likes.
Thursday, July 10, 2003
I think I am broken...
I know im lonely...
Am i supposed to be lonely?
I think god hates me...
I like like the ellipsis ... ... ... ... ... ... ... but use it incorrectly
I have no social life and i want one
I know im lonely...
I have tourette...
I think god hates me
Tourette, I do not like...
I like the ellipsis ... ... ... ... ...
I know a person I like...
Im scared to do anything about it
and I have tourette
I think god hates me
I really am a good person, gentle and kind
Tourette wont let me talk sometimes
I dont like tourette
but i do like the ellipsis... ... ... ... ... ...
I think god hates me
Im kind and loving, considerate, very shy
I have tourette
Im frightened to meet people
people dont generally like other people with tourette
even if they do like the ellipsis like me... ... ... ... ...
I think god hates me
Perhaps I'll get the courage up to ask her out
I only met her once, and tourette wouldnt let me talk to her
so lonely god... why do you hate me?
OH! OH! OH!
humana humana humana
unf unf unf unf unf unf unf unf unf unf unf
Monday, July 7, 2003
WOW... asshats abound
*hands out asshats>
Here is an asshat for you, and an asshat for you
*looks for a special asshat*
Here is YOUR special asshat.
*holds up a stack of extra asshats*
Have you been an asshat?
I have an asshat for you.
*hands out more asshats*
Notice that the asshats are a little big.
This is because you are an asshat, and I trust you to grow into it.
*Reaches out and pulls all the asshat's asshats down over their faces*
HA HA HA, look at the asshats... now you cant see.
*kicks all the asshats in the jimmy*
Oops, one doesnt have a jimmy.
*tapes a jimmy to the jimmyless asshat and proceeds to kick it*
I don't much care for asshats.
Head in hand...
Forced to table...
Loooooooong upward drawback...
Fast downward swing...
Hammer hits table...
Body attached to head that hand holds wets itself...
I.... am a lawn mower.
Pull my rope.
Hear me rev and hold onto my handle
Run my blade across you lawn
Remember to lube my blade so I cut easier
When your done cover me with an old loved blanket
Take me out whenever you need me
Tuesday, July 1, 2003
Go to store, buy cheese, buy LOTS of cheese, go to vacant lot, build house from cheese, hire electrician, install heatlamps, strip naked, sit in house of cheese and roll naked in the cheese oil puddling on the floor made of cheese, wait till house collpases on you, eat your way out, find old asian woman and rub your naked cheesy goodness on her, watch old woman run in terror.... Behold... The Power of Cheese.
Monday, November 18, 2002
Alas, alas, a las at last I might perhaps would like to lash.
Unto the bed and wed her then to make her mine till end of time.
Yea not to tough, nor I too rough, my love wont rust or bust nor be without trust.
These things I hold to be untold will yet unfold if I am bold, so I am told
Sunday, November 17, 2002
Once upon a time i met a man who liked to die
DeinBoo: Liked to die said I? He looked at me and sighed
LitGizmo: that must have been a sad man.
DeinBoo: and promtly fell on his head and cried
DeinBoo: Die says I tis what i do
DeinBoo: The wife the kids, its nothing new
DeinBoo: We like to drive the car real fast .. faster faster pump the gas
DeinBoo: Dive into the tree you see, we die we die now let us be
DeinBoo: Let you be says you, I cannot do
DeinBoo: You will show me how you do
DeinBoo: To take me on a trip with you, no seatbelts on us as we zoooom
DeinBoo: Step in the car says he, and you and I will zoom as three
DeinBoo: Zoom into the tree and die
DeinBoo: zoom zoom zoom says I
DeinBoo: he hit the throttle and he went
DeinBoo: Like an angel heaven sent
DeinBoo: The tree came quickly as we zoomed
DeinBoo: we hit the redwood and went BOOM
Quintessential knowledge of my incandecent shoe, reminds me of the person that I once was when I fluttered bout in blue. The premium you cost me and the experience I knew, erradicated all thought and indulgence of the new. Impervious and stricken with the overzelous slough... I paddled through the white cap wakes to search for somwhere new.
Tuesday, August 20, 2002
I wake to a nuzzle at my ear, eyes slowly open to a the blurry sight of red led lights, clock comes into focus, 4:20 am, the nuzzle come again... I close my eyes and ignore it, suddenly a sharp pain in my ear, The Mert has bitten me, cannot ignore it anymore. I sit up in bed and fling my legs to the wood floor, it is cold and the shock wakes me. The Mert steps into my lap and hops to hind legs, sitting like some kind of parrot. In The Merts mouth is a slip of paper... its becoming routine to me now. I take the paper, its is slick with Mert spittle... I open the slip and read the two words on it and sigh. I look to The Mert and he winks at me, turns, and walks from the room. I stand and follow knowing it is useless to resist, many painful lessons later I understand this. The Mert awaits me in the planning room as The Mert likes to call it. The Mert stands atop a silver case, it too is slick with The Mert spittle... he drools when he is excited. I take the box and open it. Inside is the same rifle that The Mert had me kill Ed Answer with, gleaming next to the gun is a single 30-30 shell, overloaded plutonium tipped hollow points filled with e-bola, The Merts personally made bullet. Shutting the box and securing the latches I head for the door, I am of course followed by soft padding footsteps. We drive to a Hotel and set up in a room overlooking the local television station and wait... The Mert sits on the sill as is normal and watches. He whips his head toward me and purrs. Its time. The rifle is comfortable in my hands as I bring it to my shoulder, eye down the scope and search for my target... tension builds in me, I cant bring myself to pull the trigger though I am tracking it across the parking lot. I feel a soft nudge at my finger, looking down I see The Mert staring coldly at me, evil in its eyes. There is no fighting it, sight up again and pull the trigger...POW..... Martha Stewart is dead... The Mert and I go to the car and head back to the safe house. I feel sick as I watch The Mert do what can only be described as, laughing, laughing maniacally.
Monday, August 19, 2002
Bandwidth is the space the bands i have holding my hair in a bunch take up in width!!!!
The Mert and I stand in the window.... slight wind from the east, maybe 6 mph, the curtains flutter, but not enough to reveal us, humidity low, visibility good, temperature 75 the gun is cool in my hand. The Mert scans the street, purring softly. Time passes the gun and I are one... The Mert turns his head to me and merts. I nod and take from my vest pocket a single 30-30 round and slide into into the breech of the gun... the bolt in well oiled and the action slides forward and clicks home with litle effort. The caps come off the scope and drop to the floor spinning like two coins, I take a deep breathe and raise the rifle. As the gun comes to my shoulder I see the Mert rubbing his paws together in anticipation, Ive never seen him like this, the excitement coming off him is thick and cloying, it instills in me the desire to finish my task and please The Mert.... you DONT want The Mert on your bad side. The scope is at my eye now and i scan the street, there is my target... another deep breathe, I can hear The Mert shaking and making a noise I can only descibe as a giggle, though that cant be. Slowly squeeze the trigger... altitude, wind taken into consideration, BOOM the rifle rocks back against my shoulder, the noise deafening in the small room.... I bring the scope back up to my eye and check my target... direct hit, Ed Asner is no more... The Mert merts questioningly, "its done" I say, The Mert purrs and walks from the room and in the doorway turns to look at me as if to say, "you are done.... for now" I bow my head and know there is nothing for me to do but obey the will of The Mert, I put the rifle away and head for the getaway car and drive to the safehouse... and wait.
A rabbit crawled into my head this morning and told me the tale of a young Rabbi named Piffle... then he licked my nose and I died.
I hate when that happens
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