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12/30/25   
Don't count us out. Or count on us. Please, just stop with the counting.

Dinner Date

by Violet Tiara
bio/email
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
“Love is blindness, deafness, muteness, retardation, spinal bifida, shingles, crotch rot, Alzheimer's, malaria, gout, rubella…”

-Doctor Love
Fortune 500 Cookie
Don't spit, shit, or knit into the wind this week; as a matter of fact—stay out of the wind entirely. And those gibberish Mariachi lyrics you've been humming for the last three years—time to give that a rest. You will be mortified this week to discover that the family camping trips you've been repressing since childhood were the inspiration for Brokeback Mountain, and that you're not actually related to your uncle Phil. This week's lucky colas: Mister Flat, Diet Riot, Vanilla RBX174, Buurp, Cherry Fairy, PreP, Pepsi-dAC.


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