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02/21/26   
We'll put this sword away when you tell us where the monkey is

The Visitors

by Eli Snaubertzen
bio/email
December 10, 2001
Snooty bugle-playing burglars
Why do you bother me?
Go to hell, you naked buglers
Cease your melody.

Who invited uncooked hamhocks
All these pigs I see?
Go away, freeloading pork pies
Get out my Christmas tree.

Get out Santa, get out Elvis
Get out Sandra Dee.
I don't recall inviting anyone
To share my ginger tea.

Mister Walrus, Miss November
Tell me did you see
A sign hung from my door that said
"Please come and bother me"?

Were my windows not shut tightly?
Did my door not lock?
Was the hint too vague and subtle,
When I threw that rock?

Go on, get out! Every last shrew!
Every last motorcycle cop!
And I will surely lose my patience
Unless those bongos stop!

Clear out my house! Get out the door!
Leave my city block!
Don't come back here even if
You forgot your sock!

No more mastiffs, no more lawyers,
No more mimes or cows
No more microbes selling Amway
Leave and I mean Now!

What now? What's that?
No, my pills ran out.
Goodness, you're right, call the doctor!
Thank you, Mr Trout.


Quote of the Day
“How many roads must a man walk down before someone will give him a fucking ride? What, do I look like a serial killer or something? Blow me in the wind, buddy.”

-Zimm Bobberman
Fortune 500 Cookie
Here comes another lecture on the same old tax-and-spend bullshit, courtesy your butler. Quit picking at it and maybe it wouldn't get infected. Who beefed? Details inside. Better save that big comeback tour until after you've had at least one hit song.


Try again later.
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Archives
Distraction
Fifteen phantom penpoints All under my control I move them deftly, swiftly smearing ink upon a single slice of paper. Sixteen sweatered titties Distracting me so simply from my fifteen phantom penpoints Nothing worthwhile written, once... (11/26/01)

Shuns
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 Replacing your wardrobe with out-of-date fashions?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? ... (11/12/01)

The Waistland
April be the month that's meaner Than a shot of carburetor cleaner Or an icy, uncooked wiener Said the raven: "Ned's a Whore". "Ain't my lookout," said the genie, in a voice so tiny, teeny Ned thought it a baby, beanie And burned down the... (10/29/01)

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