Shuns

by E.L. Pout

November 12, 2001

Who has been flushing your worldly possessions?
Replacing your wardrobe with out-of-date fashions?
Making your schnauzer do Nixon impressions?
Squeezing your neighbors for seedy confessions?
Coating your lips with pre-cancerious lesions?
Showing you slides of infected abrasions?
Accusing your mother of being a Russian?
Filling your mind with intemperate passions?
Splitting your food into practical rations?
Loading your pickup with refugee Haitians?
Mocking your cock in some lewd animations?
Cutting your paycheck by raising inflation?
Wrecking your travel with tropical depressions?
Selling your free time as one-hour sessions?
Telling your family about past transgressions?
Tilling your tulips and planting impatiens?
Shipping your panties to greedy Alsatians?
Sorry, I'm busy with my own regressions.

Quote of the Day

“Yes, madam, I may be drunk, but you are ugly and in the morning I shall still be drunk! Wait a minuteâ€¦ Okay, I've got a match for you: your butt and my face. TouchÃ©.”

-Quentin Hillchurch

Fortune 500 Cookie

Happiness is indeed a warm gun, but you're not supposed to warm it in your ass like that. If your life is lacking direction this week, we've got one word for you: North. As you have long suspected, recreational drugs are the answer. This week's lucky charms: taupe meatballs, turquoise speculums, puce gallstones, gold bullets.

Try again later.

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The Crab
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Victim
There's a gray hole in my - shall we call it a soul? Is that what it is? A soul? There's a gray hole in my soul where you ripped out my - shall we call it a heart? Do souls have hearts? There's a gray hole in my soul where you ripped out my... (10/1/01)