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am i ee Sep 2015
hey you!

yeah you!

i’m talking to you!

i’m a big fat bus
with
A!
BIG!
FAT!
BEAUTIFUL!
YELLOW!
BOOTAY!

i say,

NOW!
YOU!

Yeah you!
YOU get outta MY way!

go on now
get outta my way

hey hey hey
get outta my way
way of my 
big fat,
fat big ,
beautiful yellow bootay

hey hey hey!
BIG FAT YELLOW BOOTAY!

hey hey hey

fat bootay

I say
Outta my way!
hey hey hey
if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
"i ain't got no fat bootay.
i am just a little husky."
she said to me.
that big fat bus with the big fat yellow bootay.

"i'm a thinkin'
i'm gittin' REAL tired
of all your verse."
said she.

"you should live the life i do.
yes you should.
just for one day.
grubby little kids kicking the back of my seats,
hanging out the windows
screaming so loud.

"crying and punching
throwing each other's gear.
boxing an ear.

"picking and fightin'
and bullying every year.
wet boots and sand
poking me in the tummy
with their little stupid umbrellas.
wiping snot on my clean seats.

those high schoolers
smoking in back,
tobacco and joints
and drinking & stuff
thinking i don't know it.

well the he-ing and she-ing,
on trips, to games and more,
i won't go into here.
what do they think i am?
a rolling motel
hotel
super 6?

it's enough to drive me right
out of my mind here.

"i used to be shiny and bright and new,
and i was so happy
to finally get out on the town.
then i realized for what i was made
year after year,
driving around,
the very same trip
all over town.
more than enough
to drive anyone insane.

"if i had wrists,
i assure you i'd slit em',
for you can never imagine,
what is it like,
to be me."
says that big fat bus with the big fat yellow bootay.

okay so now... i'm starting to feel
just a little bad,
all the mad verse
i hurled
at her
all of those days.

so i say,
to that big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay,
"why wait around?
set yourself free,
before you end up in the big fat bus
cemetery!

now in some other time,
in some other life,
i start to see,
i could see ,
the possibility,
of what good friends
we could have been.

i would have waxed her
well, brightened her up
shined up the grill
made those white walls sparkle.

i coulda detailed her
inside and out.
checked her oil
and tweaked those points
making sure those
spark plugs would light.

rotated her tires and
lubed all her joints.
windexed her glass
front, side and back.

so now
still feeling a little bad
i say,
to that big little-husky bus
with the big little-husky yellow bootay,
"go single,
go solo,
but GO NOW!"

taking my advice to heart,
that big fat bus,
with her big fat yellow bootay,

she discharged that last child,
and driver so worn,
and bided her time,
till well after dark.

she took a quick,
furtive look around,
stealthily rolled  
out of the yard.

once a safe distance away,
set her engine in gear,
and got right the hell
out of here.
right away.

flying down the open roads,
careening around every
sharp curve,
every bend.
tipped on her side,
tires right up off the ground.

shrieking like a madwoman

"it's a good day to die!
i'm finally free!"

"It's a good day to die! mother f-ers" she cried
as she sped down the road.

until,

HEY?
HEEEEYYY?
What's THAT in my way?

OH NO!
it's a BIG FAT BUS !
with a BIG FAT YELLOW BOOTAY!
and it's in MY WAY!

...brakes stomped through the floor with all her might,
smoking tires and squealing rubber, and skidding down the highway,
way out of control...

more to come ...Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
Big Fat Yellow Bootay has made 2 previous appearances here.

if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
meanwhile,

the Big Fat Yellow Bootay
was getting right tired of
waiting for the election to end.

so,

she set off down the highway
going ninety five...

"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!" she cried
as she gunned the engine and
threw herself in gear.

"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER *******!"
twice she cried,
"HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER *******!"
this second time
for extra good luck
with the unfolding election.

cool Fall breeze caressed
her yellow metal,
her big fat yellow bootay,
a glorious day to
be out on a drive!

well, except where she had
come from.

beep beep
beep beep
always driving her
beep beep beeping insane!

it shore nuf was quiet
out this way!

she turned the shiny
silver dial to turn on the
radio.
'gonna have to get me
some better speakers
one day soon.' she thought
to her big fat bus self.

and what came out blasting?

"That's Alright Mama,"
by who else?
but the King!
Elvis!

Elvis has left the building
and now,
Elvis is ON THE BUS!

she didn't quite know all
of the words,
but what the ****,
she sure could sing!

As the big fat bus
with the big fat bootay
was driving along,
singing joyfully,
she glanced in the rear
view mirrow and what
did she see?

why the ghost of Elvis himself
was sitting right there
right in the back of the bus.

He starts strumming on his
own guitar and singing,
'that's alright mama.."

so she turned off the
radio to listen
to the ghost of
the King,
Elvis,
himself,
singing in the back
of her big fat yellow bootay!

she also watched him eating
a lot of food
in the back of the bus,
her bus.

his ghostly figure
seemed to
fluctuate between fat Elvis,
and skinny Elvis,
like a seesaw.

by and by
says he,

(not the really fat one
but not the really skinny one
neither.)

'I need a pit stop.'
says the King

so the big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay,
asks,
asks she,
'you wanna stop at the next
stop & go,
or
the next
fizz & wizz,
or
my fav if you really
need a constitutional,
the stop & plop?'

at this particular junction in time
this ghostly King,
was in the shape
of Fat Elvis
but very cooly outfitted,
bellbottoms and rhine stones
or were those all diamonds?

note to self,
the big fat bus
squirreled away,
check on that.
are those real or not?
more mulha is always
good
and this just might
be mana from heaven
in the form of Elvis the KING
himself
and maybe just one
of those diamonds
will fall out and
get lost in me.'

mighty strange happenings
going on around here in this
big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay.

' the stop and plop little mama,' elvis replied
with that
ohhhh,
soooooo,
divine Elvis drawl
and that darling little
thing he did with his mouth,
but was doing now
as he was sitting there in the
back of HER big fat bus
with HER big fat yellow bootay!

OH MY,
it really is a
HOKEY POKEY day!  she sighed.....
dear reader, i must admit, this is sounding even strange to me... it must be the stress of the election, so please pardon me.  and a very good night to you.
am i ee Sep 2015
Hey!
you!
yeah you!
you big fat bus!
with your big fat yellow bootay!

i'm just trying to get to the park,
when out of the dark,
of the trees,
there you be.

Four
FOUR
FOUR stops in four steps
no more
i swear.

sitting in my car
the minutes of my life
little grains of sand
sifting away.

little feet
and little legs
can you possibly
move any slower
across that street?

heavy with packs.
when did kids start
carryin' full backpacks
for a day a school?

where is that school?
top of Mt Everest?

Hurry up!

GET ON that bus!
get on that big fat bus!
with the big fat yellow bootay!

mama and papa
and gramps and grandma and all
kiss and hug you
like you are really setting off to sea.

gimme a break they'll be back at three!

i say,
now go on,
go on now,
GET ON that bus,
that big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay!

and *** your big fat yellow bootay
OUTTA MY WAY!

i say,
hey,
go on now,
get outta my way.

fat bootay
outta my way...
hey hey hey
get outta my way
you big bootay.
you big fat bus
with your big fat yellow bootay.
special request - fast poem for Joseph Red Hawk!  what do you say?

if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
now a gal on the run
needs a little scratch
to live on
so
she quick pecked out a book
with a perky little ditty.

one that could be sung
one that would run
over and over
in your head.

sales took off
quite briskly
soon her tune could
be heard along every
school corridor.

kids of all ages
chanted and screamed
walking or riding
her very own call....

Hey!
You!
Yeaaahhh
you!
i say
you big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay
you’re in my way

i say
go on now
get outta my way.

get outta my way.
you big fat bus
with your  big fat yellow  bootay
get outta my way
big bootay
outta my way!
yellow bootay!
hey
hey
hey


now this refrain
quickly got old
for all the drivers
of the big fat busses
with the big fat yellow bootays.

it wasn’t long before
they were on the warpath
pitch forks and shovels
tire irons and more.

these enraged drivers
were out for blood
and broken bone,
which in her case
certainly meant
dripping oil,
broken glass and
twisted metal.

Some days she cried
why, oh, why,
did i ever
write that?

Other days
she didn’t give a hoot
not a single second
stinkin' thought.

but she still skirted
the cities and towns
right before
and right after
school was in session.


the money flowed in
and rather than gin,
she stopped for a sip
of high test
premium
fuel.

no margaritas
for this little senorita
with the Big Fat Yellow Bootay.

some afternoons late,
she would  just set
a spell and wait,
sip that ole
high test,
watching the sun slide
below the horizon,
colors galore,
a magnificent painting,
different each
and
every
night.

still on the run
but having loads of fun,
she kept a keen eye out
for the man with the badge
and the gun.

reports abounded
about a bus that had
disappeared
one that had
absconded.

now no one thought
it could possibly
be,
only she,
all on her own.
so the lookout
was for some thief
to be caught.
a thief of the kind
with two hands
two wrists
and ten fingers.

hiding out
during the day
she would slip away
come the passin' of
the sun
most times.

rolling along
one
afternoon
between fields so wide,
she pulled in
by a shrub
and found a motorcycle
waiting.

"my pig’s gone
to take a leak.”
said the little motorcycle,
nodding to the trees
not far away.

(aside: the little motorcyle
referred to his pig in only the most
affectionate way.  
which brings one to
wonder, from where did it arise
why is another word
synomous with cop,
pig?

pigs are so cute,
darling and sweet
and very intelligent.  
makes no sense to me
when you are a looking
to be insulting,
to be calling a cop
a pig.)

she glanced on over
at the copse of trees
and set herself
in reverse gear.
"i owe you one
new little friend”
said she,
and as she rolled back onto
the road,
she gently did pat him
on his tight firm little  
motorcycle
bootay!


"It’s a good day to die!”
she cried
as she sped off,
"not to mention
drive!"

and it was,
one fine day to drive!
if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
out on the road,
driving right along,
comin' to a stop,
at the head of the line,
right at the light.

i look up,
and what do i see,
but a
Big Fat Yellow face
starin' back at me.

taken aback,
reminds me,
you see,
of one
big fat bus
with a big fat yellow bootay,
only just slightly differently.

i start lookin' around
and what do i see
but a whole
bunch
of big fat yellow faces
starin' back at me.

studyin'  big fat yellow face
of bus number
eight five nine,
i begin see a difference
or two.

Some big fat yellow faces
are flat,
hardly a nose
on 'em.

Some big fat yellow faces
have quite the
shnoz on 'em,
wouldn't Jimmy Durante
be oh, so, proud.

quite an education
in just the cycle of
only one light.

it turns green,
to left i turn.

one big fat yellow face
one big fat yellow bootay

two big fat yellow faces
two big fat yellow bootays

three big fat yellow faces
three big fat yellow bootays

four big fat yellow faces
four big fat yellow bootays.

racing by so quick,
lickety split.

so how do i know,
know for sure,
that God really exists,
and even more,
that she really loves me?

if there were no God
and if she didn't love me,
i'd be starin' at all these
big fat yellow bootays
through the
front of the windshield,

instead of seeing 'em
flying into the distance
when take i a quick glance
into my REAR view mirror!

i do love the look,
of a,
Big Fat Yellow Bootay
starin' at me
from my rear view mirror,
in the mornin'!

hey, hey, hey,
just another fine day!
whadda say!
am i ee Sep 2015
Hey you!

Yeah

YOU!

i say,
somebody out there
likes my Big Fat Yellow Bootay!

and here
is what
they
say,

"Oh, the big fat bus
with big fat yellow bootay
always makes my day."

hey,
hey,
hey!

i say!

have yourself,
one
fine
Day!

big bootay!
one fine day!
hey, hey, hey....

...The Big Fat Yellow Bootay gives a wave of thanks
and gits going on her way....
i say!  the wave of thanks goes out to Joseph Red Hawk for sending me my very first fan mail!  ~ yours truly, The Big Fat Yellow Bootay

and if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
... moving along from Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay - (as the title)

She skidded
up SO close,
to that big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay
that was in her way,
that no more than
the width of
a hair
stood between
em.

Long rubber tracks
and patches painting the
road.
Her tires worn thin,
she started to grin.

This big fat bus
with his big fat yellow bootay
was heard to say,

"Whoa,
slow down there little
darlin’.
What’s the big rush?
You almost crashed
into me.

And that quite possibly,
most entirely possibly,
could have,
led to
the end,
for both me,
and for you.

And by the way,
exactly where are
you supposed
to be now?

What are you doing
up in this part of town?"

Oops!
Wrong big fat bus
to be running
into.

She mumbled
her sorries,
threw herself
into reverse,
and high-tailed it
out of there
right quickity quick!

her heart was a beatin',
her heart was a poundin’,
THIS was living!
THIS is what it
felt like
to be
ALIVE!
Really alive!
and not driving along at
STINKIN'  25!
if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Oct 2015
the ghost of
Elvis
continued
eating
and
stopping
and plopping.

they sure were
going
no where
purty
****
quick

thought the
big fat bus
with the
big fat
yellow bootay...

something needs to be done
and
lickety
quick.....

pondered the big
fat bus
with the BIG fat Yellow Bootay...
am i ee Sep 2015
quite stealthily,
the big fat yellow bootay
cruised
by the very intent,
young brave lad
so carefully
sharpening
his
blades,

oh,
so,
quietly.

oh,
so,
slowly....

a skill she had
perfected these many months
on the run.

and what fun months
they were.

she slid by
oh.
so,
very,
silently,

then a nice
distance away
she turned
her big fat yellow bootay
around.

and.......
if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
“HOKEY POKEEEEEEEY!"

"HOKEY POKEY MOTHER *******!"

cried the big fat bus as she sped away.

the young brave
looked up  

"it’s not hokey pokey
you moronic big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay

"It’s H————“

but the big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay
couldn’t hear him
with the wind in her ears
and the nobel battle cry
ringing through her yellow grill
as she sped away.

and with that,
the handsome young brave
returned to the task at hand
sharpening his very,
very,
large blades,
very,
very,
slowly.
if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
the big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay
was racing along
the country,
shore to shore,
sea to shining sea,
gulping in every sight.

as she flew through the west,
she caught sight
of a handsome young brave
sitting not far off the
side of the
road,
sharpening the blade of
one mother,
of one huge mother,
of a huge mother ******' knife.

and she thought she caught sight of
another huge shiny blade.

silhouetted against the backdrop
the light blue cotton sheets
gently swaying in the warm wind
on this sunny day,
filling them with fresh sweet
scent of fresh
sun dried air.

he intently focused
on the blade,
holding it up to the sky and
slowly,
very slowly,
drawing his thumb over
the edge
over and over,
'gettin' there'
'gettin' there'
he must be thinkin'
she was a thinkin'.

speeding along,
she glanced quick right,
and thanked the good lord
she was born without a head.

nor any tufts of fine locks on
her big fat yellow bootay.

for she had no hankering’
to be gittin’ no scalpin’.

better leave those up
to those oh so annoying
two-legged humans.

note to self,
she did make,
one to herself,
that if ever she passed this way
agin’.
she would give this
fellow one wide berth.
as he’s a lookin’
like a fellow
she didn’t want,
with to be,
messin'.

YET...
thought she.....

meanwhile, way over yonder
the manly cowboy
felt a chill grow,
shivers crept up his spine,
just as he felt a cool breeze
caress his scalp.

'hmmm that brave lad
can’t still be a ponderin’
if’n he’s awantin’ to be scalpin’ me?
he can’t!
can he?'

'nah!'
thought the manly cowboy,
pulling his wide-brimmed hat
ever so firmly down on his head.
if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
the question of God's existence
finally put to rest.

or was it?

the big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay,
turned her thoughts
to other existential
mysteries.

many a book
had been left behind
over the years
as students got off the bus,
so the big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay
had plenty of books
to read on her long days
cruising up,
and down,
and around,
the highways.
a veritable library indeed.

one  book
particularly caught
her attention
as its cover
was a lovely
shade of yellow
and black.

i say,
hmmm,
that title
needs editing.

i am that,
now
became
I AM THAT FAT

content,
she put down
the yellow book,
and gazed off
into the emptiness.
* or Lesser if you know the difference
for Nisarga... he's the man!

and if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
Pay attention!
rap rap
said the big fat bus,
with the big fat bootay.

i say
i have something
to say
to you!

a wee bit of advice to you
you so sweet
young lasses
out and about
on hot summer nights
in camaros
and vans
and pintos
and mustangs.
and mom's
station wagon's.



# 1
when that eager
young lad's hands
are a crawlin' all over
you.

yes YOU missy,
your sweet nubile
young territory,

the time will come
when you shall
want all these
shennanigans to
STOP!

so i give to thee
some wee
words of advice.

#2
Be firm with your delivery.
Do not waver.
Strong even voice,
increase volume if
necessary.

to the
Kind sir,
the,
young lad..

say!

i do not beg you,
i command thee ...
be sure to understand!
keep those roving
hands to thyself.

for you can
rest assured,

this playground is closed!

this is a no nookey zone!

#3
blue *****,
you claim,
they are a ailing you?

for you i give
this sound advice,

say!
introduce yourself
to your right hand,

and ifn' you be a wantin'
a menage eh of three,

invite
your,
left hand
to
come along!

#4
Be firm and be sure,
you are sitting on
a sacred fortune of gold,
don't let them
miners be gropin'
around,
be a gropin'
you.

it is only for you
to sacredly unfold
your divine
femininin-ess.

if you want to do it,
do it...
but search your heart long before you do.  
at least think you are in love
before taking the plunge.

first loves are sweet
and last long
in hidden recesses of
mysterious minds.

take your time,
30 and more,
is the age
we big fat busses
with big fat yellow bootays
come into our own.

no rush.
nowhere to go.
all the time in the world to get there.
there is,
i assure you,
no rush.
am i ee Sep 2015
The big fat bus,
with the big fat yellow bootay,
say, today, i think i shall simply drive.
the Big Fat Bus doesn't truck much with poetry, doesn't have a clue about haiku, so don't be too ******* her... she might just go look it up.
am i ee Sep 2015
the big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay
soon
began to see
steam billowing
out
from under her
big fat yellow hood.

so trembling,
and idling rough
she pulled into the first stop,
a rough-looking roadhouse
to set a while and cool off.

sidling up next to
a brand new big shiny
new tour bus,
she
rather pleased,
for he,
was a
sweet lookin',
and kinda handsome lookin',
kinda thing,
till he opened his mouth.

reminded immediately
of an old song,
her enamor
did not last long.

"when i need something to help me unwind
i find a six foot baby with a one track mind.
smart guys are nowhere
they make demands
just give me a *****
with talented hands.
i go bar hopping
and they say last call.
i start shopping for a
neaderthal.
i like em big and stupid
i like em big and real dumb.”

ah that Julie Brown…
there’s a girl who knows how to belt ‘em out!

she cast a furtive glance
at Mr. Oh SO Brand New Bus  
the big galoop,
waiting for his load,
when out of that rough
roadhouse spilled,
THE drunkest,
MOST obnoxious,
herd of redneck cowboys,
she had ever seen
or would care to ever
see again.

hootin' and hollerin'
shootin' off their guns,
just narrowly missing
her big fat yellow face.

a shovin' and a punchin'
blood flying here and there,
sounds of a cracking
bone or two.

shaking her bumper gently
from side to side,
quietly eased she,
her way
back on to the throughway.
and off she shot!
into the night!

pedal to the metal!
like a bat out of hell!

another
romantic fantasy disaster
narrowly
averted!
if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
hey you!
yeah you!

i say,

i want to create
a collection
called '******* gems'
because of this poem.  

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1400754/sick/

i LOVE that phrase!

so i say,
or said to me,

i shall ask your advice.
kind reader,
will that offend?

... i'm thinking it will,
... so i best not.  
what do YOU think kind reader?
should i?
should i not?  

i guess the requirement
to join the club would be
that the piece must contain
at least
one time,
my favorite
******* word.

so i say!
what do
YOU
say?

OH and just thought
it must be nice
or funny
or nice & funny!

oh and
or
romantic...

no icky works
will be accepted.

read the gem
from which
the collection wishes
to spring.

eagerly awaiting your
replies,
your friend,
i hope,
the big fat bus
with the Big Fat Yellow Bootay.

(oooo... should i edit that to read
with my favorite word in between
Fat & Yellow?)

i bid you adieu,
sweet quiet morning to you,
kind reader...

...have adventures ahead
between now
and next time we meet.

that puppyhead needs her a walkin...
and you are seeing what treasures those net
each morning.

someone somewhere must
brush teeth,
scrape tongue

... ah ****,* i best make this a morning piece
and you kin read it thar,
so here it is.

* and NO, that was not written to mean
and poo!
as part of the morning constitutional.
it was an exclamation...
explaining is exhausting...
from the whole gang MC, BFB with the BFYB, PH, LAN

and seriously,  it is a serious question... do not delay taking pen to paper, i shall read each and every reply!  thank 'e much!
am i ee Sep 2015
hey!
you big fat bus!
with your big fat!
yellow bootay!
i say!
go on
now
get outta my way!
i say!
hey!
get outta my way!
school is starting soon....

The Very Beginning of the Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
hey you!
yeah yous!
all of yous!

you big fat busses
with your big fat yellow bootays!
what a day!

in the lots you sits,
way off the roads,
giving me happy fits!
rows of rows,
of yellow bootays,
lined up straight,
big and fat,
and outta my way!

i say!
this is sure ONE
fine Sun-un-day!

with YOU,
and all YOUR,
big FAT yellow bootay's
outta my way!

hey!
i say!
why can't it be like this
every day?

you big fat busses,
with your big fat yellow bootays!
i shore like it!
when you are,
outta my way!

i say
outta my way!
you big fat busses
you and your big fat yellow bootays!
outta my way!
yellow bootay!
outta my way!
hey! hey!
hey!
such a fine day!
ah... driving bliss

if you have a hankerin' to read from the beginning... see the Collections,  The Manly Cowboy & Chronicles of a Big Fat Yellow Bootay
am i ee Sep 2015
high test premium fuel
keeps me rolling along
smooth & fast & FAT.
in 665 haiku
Justyn Huang Sep 2019
Her eyes, by sparkling gems
glittered in the wind
and when the beat dropped
so did that bootay

— The End —