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06/4/26   
A keen smile and a sharp knife

Peace Frog

by Laurence Trundle Lawrence
bio/email
November 15, 2004
There's blood in the streets,
there's meat on these sheets.
What am I, sleeping with a butcher?

Napping on crazy wax paper
wrapped in crap vapors
dreaming of walking on gongs
past a sleeping pitbull.

Goddamn is this song loud
carpeting the air
like a plumber who woke up
and forgot what his goddamned job was
and just started carpeting everything.
Crazy fuck.

Chicago's overrated.
I once dated a girl from Chicago
and she wasn't that great.

Birds swoop down
like marionettes on a string
in some kind of puppet show
about birds or something.

Blood stains the palm trees
like a toilet brush
from a bloody toilet.
Jesus, how did that happen??
Yuck.

There's a trash can
full of homosexual Easter candies
if you're interested.
What if there were a holiday
called Homosexual Easter?
Would you take the day off work?
Or would you just show up anyway
and work so nobody thought you were queer?
That s a tough one.

I once rode a boat
through a river of sadness.

Man did that suck.

But I wrote a haiku on the ride:

I once kissed an overweight Eskimo
Don't ask, it's nobody you would know
She smelled kind of crappy
and she looked sort of Jappy
come to think of it, what kind of chick is named Elmo?

Shit, that's not a haiku, it s a limerick.

Gotta remember: the Japs eat the fish, the Irish drink like fish.

Christ, it's still raining blood out there.
What a perfect day to call in sick.

I wonder if I could still get paid if I say it's Homosexual Easter?


Quote of the Day
the commune is back? All right! Wait, what the fuck is the commune? What? Now I’m going to kick your ass for getting me excited for nothing.”

-Ron Tangley
Fortune 500 Cookie
This is the week everything changes for you. Yep, even those underwear. Go get a spatula. We all agree that your breasts are attractive, but usually a guy needs a follow-up act to really reel in the ladies. Try learning to play the lute this week, just carrying it around isn’t impressing anyone. This week’s lucky fuckers: Fucker G. Robinson (the world’s second-richest and seventh-most-unfortunately-named man), mother, Megan Fox’s boyfriend, and whoever’s sleeping with that hot girl on the Morton’s Salt container (oh get over it, she’s totally grown up by now).

Try again later.
Least-Popular Halloween Handouts
1.Jesus Tarts
2.Sock full of pennies
3.Shnuckers; like Snickers, but filled with delicious Shmucker's jam
4.Asked to open bag, close eyes; smart-ass farts into sack
5.Everlasting Never-Ending Irradiated Gobstopper
Archives
Dromediary
Long and hairy luminaries hang from the sky and dangle scary fingers downward in repose just itching to twitch and pick my nose. Prescient crescents— the cartoon moons fill the sky to seven deep with beauty to cause my golden weep as I... (10/18/04)

Ray Manatino's Half-Remembered Classics
Jack Sprat could eat no fat but his wife was a big fat bitch. Shit could she eat, she ate all my beets and my pickled pig's feets. Next week poker's at your house, Jack. The itsy, bitsy, spider crawled up the water spout. I almost fucking died,... (9/20/04)

Whistlepig
Loud and sweet, the howling of the whistlepig erects my nipples like sails taut in the wind. Sailfish taught me to win by cheating at cards, like a cardinal at charms or an oriole with arms. Whistlepig, whistlepig, let me in, caught by... (8/23/04)

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