Self-Fornicated

by Martha Vandella

May 30, 2005

Kiss me, you beast with the golden toes
the arches of your eyebrows like a broken McDonald's sign
the smacky wetness of your lips like the maw
of a paint-stained flower (love me, Venus Flytrap)

Absorb me
swallow me whole
crush my bones with teeth
chewing me like Laffy Taffy

I am whole once again
your are a hole, once again
I fall into you
never hitting bottom

I am a bowel movement
squeezing from your rectum
into the big porcelain void that is you
out of you (into you again)

My heart is like a snake eating itself
or a penis tucked into its owner's butthole
like the disgusting imagery in a Museum of the Grody
and I am the custodian

I am you
you are me
neither of us are welcome
at Open Mic Night anymore

Quote of the Day

“Christ on a bike! Did anybody else see that guy that looked just like Jesus Christ riding by on a bicycle a minute ago?”

-LeVonn Marthers

Fortune 500 Cookie

Last week was your best week; sorry we're late getting to you about that. From here on out, your life's gonna be shit on chips. Your dreams of becoming a major baseball star will be derailed this week by the fact that you couldn't hit a cow in the ass with a shovel. Stop using the term "Gay Bash," at once: it does not mean a fun party for homosexuals. This week's lucky Bings: Crosby, Chandler, Bada, cherries, the sound of a superball being shot out of an air cannon into an old woman's neck flap.

Try again later.

Top 5 commune Features This Week

1.	Abe Lincoln: Tall Motherfucker
2.	Michael Jackson's Dating Tips
3.	The Dog Did It: A Dummy's Guide to Solar Wind
4.	Uncle Macho's Pepperoni Puree
5.	A Tedious Summation of All Your Flaws: Past, Present and Future

Brandy is Dandy
Brandy is dandy and wine is fine but liquor is quicker and vodka divine. Gin makes you sicker and slows down your ticker when you pull down your knickers so more freely to bicker. Thunderbird is a wonder, stirred and Night Train ... (5/9/05)

My Love is Like an Orange
My Love is Like an Orange, all shiny and orange and filled with a citrus burst to quench your lonely thirst. My love is not like porridge or storage or forage For my love is like an orange andâ€¦ Bugger, nothing rhymes with orange.... (4/11/05)

Blown by the Sun
The night air like a cheese, perfumed with sea water A blocky, leaky, laggy cheese coating us all We the three of us tramp through Panama City Selling fake insurance policies for a dollar to The tourists The cops roust us here and there, upon... (4/4/05)