Tuesday, May 15, 2007

"WHAT MEN DAILY DO, NOT KNOWING WHAT THEY DO!"

***DISCLAIMER..TASTELESS WRITING, THAT DOES NOT REFLECT ON ANYTHING RELEVANT TO ANYTHING AT ALL...DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE MY MOM, OR ANY OTHER AUTHORITIVE FIGURE IN MY YOUNG ADULT LIFE...I FUCKING MEAN IT***

I am a pile of shit...literally. This is no fuckin' metaphor, simile, or uppity cracker ass literary convention. I am a big pile of feces with a crusty dried outer skin and a pumpkin pie fillin'. I reside here on the corner of Geary and Larkin on a piss caked sewer of a mutherfuckin' sidewalk. I see alot. I mean a fuckin' lot. You seen "Stand By Me?" That part where fuckin' Cory Feldman says "a pile of shit has a thousand eyes?" That nigga was all real talk, see. A thousand eyes is a fuckin' understatement. I see in three hundid and sixty degrees all up in this bitch, and have ever since I blasted out the scabby ass' that crack ass ho last week. And I'm still here. Shit. I share this sidewalk with more bodily fluids than Jenna Jameson had on them titties. That mess o' orange vomit over there, why this noddin' ass bitch with a syringe hangin' out his throat left that there on Tuesday. Can see the food stamp cheese and all that cup a' noodle shit. Puke, spunk, blood, piss, asspiss, beer, malt liquer, opium resin, syringes, crackpipe glass, used prophalactics, crystal, crackdust and weed ash all share my fuckin' house. Anyways, I just wanted to introduce myself. I may be relaying a little parable to y'all asses time to time. Till we meet again.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oops, didn't read the disclaimer first. Guess who?

Heather said...

i can taste the throw up in my mouth...

Anonymous said...

I would like to hear Mr. Waits sing that.

Anonymous said...

When you wrote this did you mean for me to scream?

Amy Guth said...

In my mind, that sounded like a Dennis Leary rant.