Clone re Eatery

Clone re Eatery Jan 2015

Thee Artiste Carvó's "Fartistic Wind"*

A ****** seeps into Thee's loft and lispers...

"F-f-f-fartistic s-s-s-soul, I would like to be a fr-fr-fr-freak and ooze in your **** cre-cre-cre-cretinivity"...

Thee fartistic soul then cuts cheese, and says...

"If you are to reach true degeneration, you must first crap a work of ****"...

The ****** then begins to swirl round and round the **** bowl...

A can of trash then pervades the room and spills these words...

"Without a lisper there is no ******, without a ****** a lisper ceases to be"...

The ****** then collides with the can of trash...

A masterpiece of p-p-p-puke...

Original ('Artistic Wind') by: Thee Artiste aka Logbrain Crappó
Reworked by: CrE aka Trollminator

This is the seventh in a series of reconstructions of the drivel of "Thee Artiste" aka Logbrain Crappó which has been previously posted on HP.

True, nothing could possibly make Thee's mindless nonsense less lousy, but at least it can be put into a neater, though still steaming, pile...

Clone re Eatery Jan 2015

Artiste-ick Nursery Rhymes abóut Thee Póetically Challenged #4

^^^^^
Carvó Has A Little Pen##

Carvó has a little pen##

(a littled pen##, a little pen##),

its 'ink' is white as snów.

And every 'wórd' that Carvó spews

(that Carvó spews, that Carvó spews)

is sure tó **** and blów.

*CrE aka Trollminator
(with apologies to Mary and her little lamb)

The fourth in a series of infantile nursery rhymes for the sub-juvenile
Trivial Trinity: "Thee", "Carvó" & "I"

Clone re Eatery Jan 2015

óh, Birdy, Birdy...

óh, Birdy, Birdy in the sky,
óh, Something hit Thee in Thee's I
óh, Thee's a big boy, Thee won't cry,
óh, Thee adores brown Cows that fly...

CrE aka Trollminator

found under a rock... and therefore suitable for Thee subject...

Jan 2015

Paula Lee

"I"

You may not like my writing
well I don't give a ****
"Subpar" Oh Well!
That's just who I am

I must have scared you bad "I"
you blocked I real quick
I had "I" turning tail
"I" couldn't match my wit

Poor poor "I" run and hide
Be lonely with all your 0's
"I" couldn't quite make the cut
"I"s lost among the heroes

"I" couldn't take the fire
Did the kitchen get too hot?
Go cry over "I"s masterpieces
Sob for all "I's" NOT!!!

Just a thought running through my head
The Chicken blocked me!
ooh I must be scary!

Jan 2015

Elizabeth Squires

Behold The Art Of Loghain

behold the art
of Loghain
a poet possessed
with fine refrain

one is in awe
of his exemplary creations
they're deserving
of deafening ovations

Clone re Eatery Jan 2015

Artiste-ick Nursery Rhymes abóut Thee Póetically Challenged #3

^^^^^
Hey Fiddle Fiddle

Hey fiddle fiddle.

Artiste starts tó ******

a ców bending óver tó móón.

Thee little Lóg laughs tó see such a spórt

and Carvó then buggers a lóón.

*CrE aka Trollminator
(with apologies to the fiddle, the cow and the loon)

The third in a series of infantile nursery
rhymes for the sub-juvenile
Trivial Trinity: "Thee", "Carvó" & "I"