Dinner Date

by Violet Tiara

May 27, 2002

Swizzle-stick me in a jar,
mastodons in foreign cars.
Oh what lovely
buggering bubbly
sex shows on starships tonight!

Chew up those rancid tulips
like I know you want to, Stone Phillips.
Belching out butterflies,
watching them flutter by,
gastric delights hued in blue.

Don't be so dumb,
dressed up and down in that bubblegum.
Don't you know you're the queen?
Practical jokes are so mean.
My lady you drink like a whore.

Rubber wigs are low-fuss.
Parsley sprigs condemn us.
Slap on that wig
and shit out a fig,
see if they won't now get us a table!

Stone Phillips, the queen and me,
dancing on MTV.
Dining on the finest
low-calorie vaginas
this posh restaurant can provide us.

Laughing whenever we see
the bluebirds of jealousy.
Asking a Yeti
with a ceramic machete
to kindly pass the spicy mustards.

The creature, a teacher, a pig and the pope
sang a song all about their plans to elope.
And with a loud blast
the ballroom was gassed
(and though it was passed)
I don't think that was spicy mustard.

Quote of the Day

“May those who love us, love us, and those who don't love us, may God turn their hearts, and if he doesn't turn their hearts, may he fuck them up so I'll know not to trust cripples.”

-Old Irish Proverb, Jr.

Fortune 500 Cookie

That weird smell in the office: It's you, dude. Stay out of the sun this week at your doctor's request; he's tired of seeing you shirtless. This week's lucky prom dates: Mom's hot friend "Aunt" Chyniqua, Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig, a randomly selected pro wrestler, entire cast of Revenge of the Nerds, or six of the seven dwarves: Sneezy's got cancer.

Try again later.

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4.	The History of Slob Literature
5.	Gain 15 Pounds for Winter

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