Drained Heart

by Bartimere Gong

January 17, 2005

My heart
is
empty
like the keg
on
the porch
Why, Denise,
why?

To drive home
is
fine
designated driver
you
volunteered

But to drive
home
with Mitch
Mitch the
Bitch
we call him

Why, Denise,
why?

They all say
he
bags everybody
will fuck
any
thing in a skirt
That includes
Mac
Kenna the Scottish
Exchange Student
No
I do not shit you

Why, Denise,
why?

I will still
take
you back
unless
you
fucked him

Even
I
have standards

Quote of the Day

“They say you are what you eat, which is precisely why I ate fine young Bernard. Though I regret to report that I feel largely unchanged, except for the part about being in prison and having a permanent case of indigestion.”

-Percy "The Cannibal" Dandridge

Fortune 500 Cookie

Nobody knows the trouble you've seen, and you'll keep it that way if you know what's good for ya, bub. Try mixing your unique brand of illiterate rage with random fits of giggling this week. People hate it when you bring your own records to be played on the jukeboxâ€”it's just a soda joint, asshole. This week's lucky piercings: throat, spleen, tear duct, tooth.

Try again later.

Top Justifications for Iraq War

1.	France don't tell us we can't do something
2.	Saddam said California was totally gay, for real
3.	Thought country offered frequent invader incentives
4.	Kuwait had "bad feeling" about some guys along the border
5.	CIA had strong evidence of uncounted Florida ballots in Tikrit

Party Girl
Paris Hilton can kiss my ass, since when is that bitch the Head of the Class? That greasy skank's a Dennis who can't bring no menace. That's if she even knows what an ass is! Man, I've got an ass that surpasses, she barely even has one... (12/20/04)

New Diet!
Quiet! I'm going on a new diet! Now don't deny it, you know you wanna try it! Because a diet's way easier to do when the whole big world's on it with you! Gonna lose that baby fat that's been lurking around my tummy like a tapeworm ... (12/6/04)

Peace Frog
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... (11/15/04)