I had a babysitter when I was a kid.
She was kind of a hippie type girl,
that really pissed me off to be honest.
she had nice boobs,
long brown hair,
and a really sweet ass,
so I was able to get past the hippie thing.
She used to heat up coke bottles,
and stretch them out into
I used to dream of being Batman,
and she was Cat Woman,
so I was doing her.
Which really explains everything to me.
I’m reading around blogs today,
and there are a lot of angry people
up on their soap boxes.
Bitching about religion, politicians,
public figures, and everything in
So up I jump on my soapbox now.
Damn it folk,
I don’t want to hear your retreaded
news article that you cut and pasted
from yahoo news or the associated press,
I want to hear about you.
The power of blogging is to tell your story,
you don’t have to give me your name,
or location, or any specific details,
I think the stories of real people are
infinitely more interesting than stories
about celebrities, or public figures,
which are probably so distorted and
skewed after they have been spun
and interpreted and reinterpreted
that they bear little resemblance
to the truth.
that’s just how I feel,
you may think otherwise.
I told her to turn that frown right around,
and this morning she woke up aces.
the power of positive thinking and stuff.
Of course we did have to pause for her
to take a chocolate break, but hey,
you got to do what you got to do to keep
things all harmonious.
One of these days I’m going to marry her
and then she will be Dr. Slutty Scandal,
and then we will both be happy.
The kind of film that takes place in some
small town, maybe in Texas, the kind of
town that’s hundreds of miles from nowhere,
with one cheap hotel, maybe a bar or
restaurant. You and your girl had an old Cadillac,
but it broke down a few days back, so you robbed
a liquor store while she painted her toe nails
sitting at the bus stop. The robbery goes bad
and you wind up shooting the cashier at the liquor
store and for your troubles you only get seventy-eight
dollars and sixty-three cents, so on the way out you grab
two bottles of gatorade and fill your pockets with bubble gum,
but then turn around and run back to grab her a couple of
Nestle white chocolate crunch bars.
You get back to the bus stop, the clouds seem to be racing
across the sky, tumble weeds blow across the dirt highway,
as she smiles when she see you with the gatorade.
You pull the chocolate bars out of your pocket,
and she carefully claps her hands in excitement.
Neither of you mention the robbery,
and you certainly never told her about the cashier.
She eats the chocolate the and you
nervously shuffle a deck of cards until the bus
arrives. The sky catches fire on the horizon as
you look up to see Dennis Hopper is your bus driver.