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12/30/25   
You can't spell 'patriot' without 'a riot'

Claw

by Bartimere Gong
bio/email
October 14, 2002
A quick
short walk
to the beach
you wear
your blue bikini
blue like
my heart
blue like
my teardrops
and almost I
can see the nipples
your boobs, not
my heart or teardrops

We walk,
hand in hand
and one more hand
like the hand of love
a third-wheel who
won't take a hint
we sit
in sand
sand in my shorts
ass crack!
You complain
it's cold
why must you
ruin everything?

Shit! Now
a crab
in my shorts
scrotal flesh
clamped in shellfish claws
selfish claws
like something
I saw on
The Flintstones
My pain is red
red like the crab
pinching my balls
Motherfucker
Quit laughing,
Shelly, you
stupid bitch

Oh, now
You're leaving?
Fine
Go
I would rather
date your sister
anyway.

Fuck these
claws of love
hurt like a
motherfucker
and the crab
that is too real
crab bastard


Quote of the Day
“My love is like a red, red wiiiine… go to my heaaaad… make me forgeeet… Wait. Sorry. My love is like a red, red rose… just like eeeeevery night has its daaaaaw- awawaaaan… Just like eeeevery cooowboy… Fuck.”

-A.D.Dobbs
Fortune 500 Cookie
Clowns don't hate you, they just feel sorry for you. Your "Don't Worry, Be Slappy" series of self-help books finally broke the five-copy sales barrier this week, and just got you sued by the estate of Slappy White. This week's lucky strikes: Clover-Workers' Union, ump didn't see ball careen off batter's jock and through strike zone, killed them all while they were dreaming about killing you, threw your ex-wife's severed head down lane on accident.


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