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.

Milestones

1988: Red Bagel's screenplay based on the cover up of the Challenger disaster is rejected for production and accused of being plagiarized from Tootsie.

Now Hiring

Rib Sandwich. Tasty barbecue rib sandwich, no experience required, must be available noon today. If position works out, could invite you back every week and some weekends. Please contact Ned Nedmiller at the commune.

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