Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mrs Timetable Jan 2020
Minding my own business
Hanging out with Irène
I heard “you’re perfect”!
What does this mean?

Don’t think much of myself
Bumpy hard skin, scars a plenty
Someone thinks I’m awesome
Fine with me just let em

I had to be cut open and gutted
To see my true beauty
Had to say goodbye to Brad
Been there for me, it was his duty

Look how beautiful we are Irène!
Creamy, soft, luscious to the taste
I’m so happy we are in the bowl
Did I just hear many yells of praise

Grown men with helmets on
Throwing around a ball
Everyone wants some of us
Yelling at their screens over a call

Who’s that Irène? He’s something!
That’s Chip! He’s handsome I say
Strong perfectly salty and built
I hope I can meet him today

Now it’s me and Chip forever
Irène set her own sights
At this Super Bowl party
Crunchy smooth love at first of  many bites
Avocados are one of  the best things made from nature. I love them so much it’s silly
Xant Sep 2019
If I were to say
about my day
There need only three words
And three words only

Such an outburst of profanity,
but they keep me away from insanity

So if you ask me "How was your day?",
there'd only be three words for me to say;



        Guacamole :D
How was your day, everyone? :)
Mine's been very... Crazy
MisfitOfSociety Sep 2018
It goes like this you see.

10pm, on a late thursday evening. I was sweating like a ****** in church. I grabbed my armbands and turned on the shower. It was cold as ice to the touch, but begun to warm up eventually. Thank god my wife remembered to turn the geezer on or else I was going to slap a *****, create waves of flesh on that ugly *** face of hers.

After stripping down to my birthday suit, I popped on some shampoo and spreaded that **** in my hair. Creating a burning sensation, tingly, like ants crawling in my head.
Suddenly I was smacked like an unwanted child by the smell of burnt toast in the air,
with the shampoo still sitting in my hair.
I turned around and right before me, something was coming out of the plug hole, like something out of a b-rated horror movie.
Looking like my wife's homemade cooking, **** was alive, and then it lunged at me.
I tell you, if it was not for those Tom Cruise movies lecturing me in the art of total *** kicking, I would be a dead naked man with armbands in a tub, being eaten by the unholy guacamole.

You gotta believe me,
when I tell this story,
This was not all in my head,
You can't just write off what I have said.
I know it must sound insane,
But a mexican's lunch crawled out of the drain,
I beat it's *** like a drum,
like Lars Ulrich at a metallica concert ,
and sent the **** back down the hole it crawled out of.
The devil wanted to bring me down to the deep end,
It is a good thing I bought my arm bands.
What the absolute ****.
Jake Griffith Jan 2015
The time may come for a maker’s mark
Heeding way for a grimacing stark.
For what is shown upon the nights embark;
Encumbering loneliness,
Waiting, quietly,
in the dark.
Gently leaning on a stoop of decay
Tar-filled hearts rest,
Waiting, patiently,
For the light of day.

— The End —