For Whale Chowder's Mom

Muchos thanxkees to WC for teh lyrical leavings. He really should start his own poetry blahg.

Whale Chowder's dad is a queer old lad
who loves getting fucked up his butt.
His rectum's been raided, pillaged, invaded.
He's teh bumfuckiest bottomest slut.
And all teh d00ds say that as a cheap lay
He's easily teh easiest score,
But he's veritable a saint, for he certainly ain't
As dirty as WC's mom teh whore.

Cain Quit You

Well I'm glad I didn't wait on Herman Li Cain. With teh way teh Tea Party caucus is blowing through potential candidates, you gotta snark while teh hucksters hot.

Well, since his campaign's run outta Steam, let's send him off right.

Nine-nine-nine, nine-nine-nine, kiss Herman Good-bye.

You'll never vote Cain, he's suspended his campaign
And he's not running baby, no more - that's what I'm sayin'
He's groped too many ladies,
And a (And a) thirteen year affair's just too shady

So go on and kiss him, Good bye.
Nine-nine-nine, nine-nine-nine, kiss Herman Good-bye.

Listen to me now

He says it's all untrue, all those harrasment issues
Despite dozens of women who all say he tried
To get in their pants baby, because he was their boss

So kiss Cain (kiss Cain) Good bye.

Nine-nine-nine, nine-nine-nine, kiss Herman Good-bye.
Nine-nine-nine, nine-nine-nine, kiss Herman Good-bye.
Nine-nine-nine, nine-nine-nine, kiss Herman Good-bye.

Through The Fire and Herman Cain

I was going to let this sit until next year, but that plan only works if Romney's campaign suddenly totally craps out. Plus I need paddle that post count something fierce if I'm to make 100 by year's end. Anywho,,,

On a cold autumn morning,
He’s teh Hero of teh Right!
Leading polls is Herman Cain,
Be president he just might.

When the darkness has fallen down,
And the times are tough alright,
The sound of evil laughter falls
Around the world tonight.

Fighting hard, fighting to cut funds
Ensuring wastelands evermore
The scattered souls will feel the Hell
Bodies wasted on the shore

On the blackest plains of Hell’s domain
He watches them as they go
For he is always Herman Cain, teh rest of you can blow.

So now we’re flying and free!
Of entitlements and welfare moms
They’re left out in the wilderness
While the rest of us carry on

Far beyond just tax cuts
Far beyond a means test
Deep inside the social contract TEEEERRRRMMMS!

So far away! We wait for that day,
When the hippies oh so wasted are all gone
Vote Herman Cain, for lifetimes lost in a thousand days
Vote Herman Cain and he will carry on.

[Guitar Solo]

As the (commie) Red day is Dawning (WOLVERINES!)
And the liberals raise up a cry,
They’ll raise their hands to the heavens above,
With resentment in their eyes.

Running hard the conservative right
Has a burning in their souls
To banish liberals to a fallen land
Perhaps to Mexico.

It’s their darkest dreams and they believe
It’s their destiny this time
And endlessly
They’ll all be free
Of LIBERALS!!!!

But their count of votes GOP
Is so far beyond reality
They’re alone in desperation
Now the time has gone

Lost inside, they’ll never find
Their way back to this real world
Day after day their misery must go on!

So far away, they wait for another day
2012 was so wasted and gone
On Herman Cain, election lost for a thousand days
But through Usurpers reign, they will carry on.

[Crazy ass guitar solo - RED SNAKE OF DOOM]

So far away, they wait for the day
Since 2012 was wasted and gone
On Herman Cain, election lost for a thousand days
To One L – twenty sixteen it shall belong.

Now there they stand, limp dicks in hand
They fapped so hard, we still can’t understand
They’ll break civil society if they possibly can
For teh Freedom of every man!

So far away, they wait for the day
Since 2012 was wasted and gone
On Herman Cain, election lost for a thousand days
To One L – twenty sixteen it shall belong.

Cyber Cyber Burning Bright

inspired by this post at Crooked Timber and with apologies to William "Would You Like To See My Etchings" Blake.

Cyber Cyber burning bright
In teh wee hours of night
What immoral acts we type
At least we're not doin' it on Skype.

In what distant deeps and skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
How old you are, I cannot tell,
Please IM your A/S/L.

And the pic in your gravatar
Teh tee that says nerds you ♥
Makes mine skip an irregular beat
Makes me question if I am 1337.

WTH! WTF!
OMG! Teh heat does suck.
What the anvil? what death grip
Off the desk one hand slips

When it's done, I lower my spear
And water'd keyboard with my tears
I did smile, thinking you nude
Whilst in my base, killing my d00dz.

Cyber Cyber burning bright
In teh wee hours of night
What immoral acts we type
To each other through teh Intarpipes.

Homosex Rapture.

How you doing out there?
Ya ever seem to have one of those days where it just seems like you just can’t get your rocks off the way you like?
That despite all your careful planning and hiding from your wife, at the critical moment you just about run outta time.
Happened to me this very day.
Let me tell you about it!

Strutting to the toupee, all dressed up in drag
Protesting Big Gubmint, with my hairy teabag
Landing at the airport, you know that's my cue
I'm gonna meet the boys in stall number two!

Raptured from the boys' room
Raptured from the boys' room
Saint Peter don’t you feel bad about the new rules
But everybody knows that God thinks homosex ain’t cool.

Checkin' out the halls, makin' sure the coast is clear
Lookin' in the stalls, But pretending not to be queer
Oh, my buddy Ted is gonna bring some meth
I’m gonna have the smell of that cop on my breath!

Raptured from the boys' room
Raptured from the boys' room
Saint Peter don’t you feel bad about the new rules
But everybody knows that God thinks homosex ain’t cool.

All right!
Oh, drivin’ home from work or maybe the local bar
Sent off some texts and put on my fur
But at the moment of glory, I was caught up in the act
No sex for devout Christians and that’s my sad fact.

Raptured from the boys' room (oh yes indeed I was)
Raptured from the boys' room
Saint Peter don’t you feel bad about the new rules
But everybody knows that God thinks homosex ain’t cool.

Once more!
Raptured from the boys' room, woah-ho
Raptured from the boys' room,
Raptured from the boys' room,
Raptured from the boys' room,
Now, hear me, I am fully aware of all the rules
And traditions that say that homosex just ain’t cool!

On The Road Again

Nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina in the wee hours of the morning.  Other than being with my babby girl and her mom.

Anywho, thanks vs for teh shoutout and opening to revel in trite rhymes and bad meter.  Or you can blame SMcGILF (totes heterosexually, of course).

Some snippets:

Poetry, like your mom
Is easy.
Like the storm before the calm,
She rides me.
Your mom is easy.
And we're fornicating.
She is easy.
Easy like Sunday Morning-cating.

Left here for some reason
Perhaps your mom to be pleasin'
Left here for some rhyme
Your dad's ass is sublime,
But what's moar
Yer mom's the whore.

Your father's ass is a popular destination

For sex tourists with a love of degradation.
For the truly depraved, there can be no other,
Except for the whore that's your mother.

Anyways, thanks for the distraction.  I guess this round of insomnia is related to being conditioned to wake at around midnight - but I've a plane to catch in six hours, so I really must sleep.

Sputnik of the Union - DRINK!

via Rusty Cahoots

Just read that Mohammedan BOGUS POTUS HUSSEIN Obambi is going to talk about the FIVE PILLARS that he is going to implement during his State of The Union speech.

I'll give you one pillar - MC'ing.

My fellow Americans, the State of the Union is strong DRINK
Motherfucker is gonna be leading all night long
Yoo can't be bringing that shit in here
Bipartisanship DRINK, now drink your beer.
This SOTU is the go to I'll show you what to do Boehner
'Sup no boohoos while I bring on the Presidential voodoo
The economy is finally growing
The Dow is upwardly going
Foreclosures are slowing
People are knowing
The green starting to roll in
It's fiduciary hanky panky, mad props to Bernanke.
The State of the Union is strong DRINK
Motherfucker is on like Donkey Kong
Any geezers in here remember Sputnik?
Who fucking cares about Sputnik - the fifties, she is over.
But it's like a metaphor
To end this letter war
We need to getter more
Closer.
My friends across the aisle DRINK
Let's put aside the vitriol
And have some alcohol DRINK
Your dicks are small
But we need to move forwar together you gotta push

The State of the Union is strong DRINK
Wait a bit while I take a hit from this bong
Something something entrepreneurs
Innovation is the secret to whores
And coke on demand
It's part of the plan
To revolutionize
Make a change nothing's strange
People people we are the same
No we are not the same
Cause we don't know the game

Sputnik!DRINK

[musicality ensues]

What is the State is the Union? STRONG - DRINK
Motherfucker ain't nevar wrong
Check out my flow
We need zip to go
Clean energy you know
No more oil greed
With the sun and the wind and the appleseed
And don't be tools
Stay in school
It ain't cool
To be an illiterate fool
Right Tea Party People? uh....

The State of the Union is strong DRINK
And before I bid y'all a "so long"
The Deficit is Too Damn High DRINK
Touch the sky, we all gonna die
Before it's paid
So spending is daid
That's whut I said.
The cheddar don't get bettar
The cheese is gonna freeze
And also too DRINK a word about foreign affairs
They are hawt.

Sputnik! DRINK

God bless these United States of America

Love Thy Father And Mother

Someone would like to portray himself as the master.

Your dad grows potatoes up his bum,
About tubers, he thinks “Yum!”
Starchy anuses make him cum
But he’s totes vanilla compared to your mum.

The men who have fucked your dad in the ass,
Is a number that very few will surpass.
He’s been had by every Hairy Dicked Tom,
But still by fewer than have fucked your mom.

Your dad’s prostate is sore and bruised
From all the rough ways it has been used.
He’s a downright skanky old bear,
But a model of virtue considering ta mère.

Your dad, when he’s really in luck
Has Yorkshiremen give his butt a fuck.
“Luxury!” he screams as his ass gets raw
But he’s a prude compared to your ma.

Your dad eats shit for the win,
That’s why he has that grin.
But the frothy mixture known as Santorum
Is much better suited to the whore that’s your mum.

UPDATE: Yes, there's moar.

Your dad’s ass is wider than you think,
Wider even than your favourite link
It can contain multitudes and then some,
But not quite as much as that whore, your mom.

Your daddy loves guys on construction sites
To fill up his hole and his nights.
But while he fucks those men again,
Your mom’s playing hide the crane.

And your dad goes nearly bezerk
As those men go about their work,
“MOAR MOAR” he stammers,
As your mom rides the jackhammers.

All those men your dad has laid,
But it’s your mom that’s the one that gets paid.
Because all he does is scream for MOAR
But your mom, she’s the whore.

Poems About d00ds with PENIS Issues

UPDATE: h/t to T&U for theme and jim for the structure of poem 2.

FavRondeau

Hey baby, give me your number,
I’ll send you pics of my lumber,
Saying No would be the meanest
So, Sweetheart show me you’re keenest
To tease the panther from slumber.

Girl, don’t act like you are dumber
You know which pipe needs this plumber
Send me a text and the scene is
Sexily set.

So Sweetcheeks, I need your number.
My pants I will unencumber.
And soon what you’ll be seeing is,
Hi res photos of my PENIS
My thick and juicy cucumber.
Yours Truly, Brett.




Villanelle for a Villain

His was a tiny thing,
So he used his Glock,
In the photo with the red G-string.

He thought he was The King,
With his surrogate cock,
In the photo with the red G-string.

And he’d fap that ding-a-ling,
Into an ankle sock.
His was a tiny thing.

And while he caused suffering,
All his thoughts
Were with the photo of the red G-string.

What if words have no meaning?
His world was rocked,
His was a tiny thing.

So he went on a killing,
Over meaningless talk.
His was a tiny thing
In the photo with the red G-string.

Note: Line 8 in FavRondeau was fixxored after original posting.

For Smut

For Smut.

Once upon your mom I laboured, ploughing her the way she favours,
Our writhing bodies passionately entwined
While her ass I was busy tapping, suddenly there came a rapping
As of someone quietly fapping, fapping at our heaving behinds
"'Tis the audience" I muttered, fapping un-til they go blind
Flattering they're too kind.

Then your mom, so beguiling looked upon the queue and smiling
At the patient crowd standing neatly all aligned
"Though my snatch be shorn and shaven, you" she said "should stop that wavin'
"You'll need your spunk for when you're layin' so save that jism and don't unwind
"For it's on that milk of kindness that I'd like to dine,,,"
Spurt spurt spurt, quoth your mom "Nevermind."