Distraction

by E.L. Pout

November 26, 2001

Fifteen phantom penpoints
All under my control
I move them deftly, swiftly smearing
ink upon a single slice of paper.

Sixteen sweatered titties
Distracting me so simply
from my fifteen phantom penpoints
Nothing worthwhile written, once again.

Milestones

2004: President Bush, in a farewell address to the nation, apologizes for corruption in his administration and senseless slaughter of American lives, as well as the mangling of the language (courtesy of Future Bob).

Now Hiring

New Now Hiring Guy. What can we say? Richie quit. Stupid, if you ask us. It was a sweet gig. Most of time he never even got any applications or resumes to review. He just made up half these jobs, but don't tell anyone we said so. You just can't make some people happy.

Top Missing Work Excuses

1.	Challenger Flashback
2.	Too Fucked Up on Meth
3.	It's Pretty Outside
4.	Thought it Was Nuked
5.	Didn't Really Miss It That Much

Shuns
Who has been flushing your worldly possessions? Replacing your wardrobe with out-of-date fashions? Making your schnauzer do Nixon impressions? Squeezing your neighbors for seedy confessions? Coating your lips with pre-cancerious lesions? ... (11/12/01)

The Waistland
April be the month that's meaner Than a shot of carburetor cleaner Or an icy, uncooked wiener Said the raven: "Ned's a Whore". "Ain't my lookout," said the genie, in a voice so tiny, teeny Ned thought it a baby, beanie And burned down the... (10/29/01)

The Crab
"I'm only ingesting asbestos in jest," said the tapdancing monkey with blood on his vest; I told him that I didn't think it was funny. "Who says you know funny, you ignorant fuck?" he said with a sneer, and I urged him to suck my cock, because... (10/15/01)