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GROWLTIGER was a Bravo Cat, who lived upon a barge;
In fact he was the roughest cat that ever roamed at large.
From Gravesend up to Oxford he pursued his evil aims,
Rejoicing in his title of “The Terror of the Thames.”

His manners and appearance did not calculate to please;
His coat was torn and seedy, he was baggy at the knees;
One ear was somewhat missing, no need to tell you why,
And he scowled upon a hostile world from one forbidding eye.

The cottagers of Rotherhithe knew something of his fame,
At Hammersmith and Putney people shuddered at his name.
They would fortify the hen-house, lock up the silly goose,
When the rumour ran along the shore: GROWLTIGER’S ON THE LOOSE!

Woe to the weak canary, that fluttered from its cage;
Woe to the pampered Pekinese, that faced Growltiger’s rage.
Woe to the bristly Bandicoot, that lurks on foreign ships,
And woe to any Cat with whom Growltiger came to grips!

But most to Cats of foreign race his hatred had been vowed;
To Cats of foreign name and race no quarter was allowed.
The Persian and the Siamese regarded him with fear—
Because it was a Siamese had mauled his missing ear.

Now on a peaceful summer night, all nature seemed at play,
The tender moon was shining bright, the barge at Molesey lay.
All in the balmy moonlight it lay rocking on the tide—
And Growltiger was disposed to show his sentimental side.

His bucko mate, GRUMBUSKIN, long since had disappeared,
For to the Bell at Hampton he had gone to wet his beard;
And his bosun, TUMBLEBRUTUS, he too had stol’n away-
In the yard behind the Lion he was prowling for his prey.

In the forepeak of the vessel Growltiger sate alone,
Concentrating his attention on the Lady GRIDDLEBONE.
And his raffish crew were sleeping in their barrels and their bunks—
As the Siamese came creeping in their sampans and their junks.

Growltiger had no eye or ear for aught but Griddlebone,
And the Lady seemed enraptured by his manly baritone,
Disposed to relaxation, and awaiting no surprise—
But the moonlight shone reflected from a thousand bright blue eyes.

And closer still and closer the sampans circled round,
And yet from all the enemy there was not heard a sound.
The lovers sang their last duet, in danger of their lives—
For the foe was armed with toasting forks and cruel carving knives.
Then GILBERT gave the signal to his fierce Mongolian horde;
With a frightful burst of fireworks the Chinks they swarmed aboard.
Abandoning their sampans, and their pullaways and junks,
They battened down the hatches on the crew within their bunks.

Then Griddlebone she gave a screech, for she was badly skeered;
I am sorry to admit it, but she quickly disappeared.
She probably escaped with ease, I’m sure she was not drowned—
But a serried ring of flashing steel Growltiger did surround.

The ruthless foe pressed forward, in stubborn rank on rank;
Growltiger to his vast surprise was forced to walk the plank.
He who a hundred victims had driven to that drop,
At the end of all his crimes was forced to go ker-flip, ker-flop.

Oh there was joy in Wapping when the news flew through the land;
At Maidenhead and Henley there was dancing on the strand.
Rats were roasted whole at Brentford, and at Victoria Dock,
And a day of celebration was commanded in Bangkok.
lucidwaking Apr 2021
You're looking for a girl
To give you character development;
Someone who can sweep you off your feet,
And change your life.
I can tell you one thing, bucko -
She's not gonna be me.

You're looking for a girl
Who can make the stars move to the rhythm of her voice.
The type of girl who, with a glint in her eye,
Sets the world on fire with will alone.
You expect me to be like that?
Please, I can hardly get out of bed
Most mornings.

I used to feel like it was wrong to be normal.
I used to feel guilty for being average.
It took me a while to realize that
It's okay to be proud of who I am,
Even if I'm as simple and bog-standard as they come.

Do I look like my name is Mary Sue?
Bug off,
I've got better things to do.
I welcome critiques! Thanks
Mark Jun 2020
I’M FEELING FONDERFUL & WANTASTIC IN SHAPESHIP CONDITION  
From the 11th diary entry of Stewy Lemmon's childhood adventures.  
 
Smoochy, my dad Archie and I, all went sailing yesterday morning, in the very large blue ocean. We went on dad's small, banana-shaped, sailingboat, which took about two hours to get there by car, from my family's home. Which, is nestled amongst the trees on a hill, in a little country village called, Shimmerleedimmerlee.  
 
It was my second time out in dads small, banana-shaped, sailingboat. But, it was Smoochy's first time in a boat on water. Although, he is famous around town, for being the first mouse, that has been out to sea, on the back of a whale.  
 
My Dad, was trying to teach me how to steer the boat, tie up the ropes, weigh anchor and all sorts of other boatie, thingy-me-jiggy things, that you should learn. That's if, you ever want to sail a boat by yourself, especially when you are older, like I will hopefully do one day.  
 
We were learning a lot and enjoying the morning together, until my dad, moved the sail, riggy-diggy-thingy. You know, the thing that helps all sailboats stay on course and turn when they want. 'You know what I mean, don't you'?  
 
But, silly old me didn't move out of the way in time. Whack, went the riggy-diggy-thingy, wooden beam thing, straight into my head and then thump, I fallen down backwards, which caused a bump on the back of my head, that was clearly the size of a bumpity-bump, speed ****.  
 
Then, dad's, small, banana-shaped, sailingboat, started sailing towards a colourful pirate ship, that had an unusual Jolly Roger, an old pirate's flag on top of its mast. It looked like a picture of a family of yellow tailed bears under a tree, in a mountain range with a hot air balloon stuck high above. The name of the ship, which was spelt out across its bow was, Shift-N-About.  
 
When, we were beside the pirate ship, we climbed up Jacob's ladder, onto the ship. Then, some funny looking crew members, named, Anastasia and Houllio, welcomed me aboard and said, 'Ahoy, me Hearty'! I looked in disbelief and said back to them both, ' Hello, my friends, haven't I seen you perform somewhere before'?  
 
Then, Johnny whose nickname was, 'Hamanail', the ships very own handyman, and his apprentice named, Little Cutsaw Stevie, threw me into the corner and tied me down tight with some, really awful, fish smelling, rope.  
 
Smoochy, The Short, who wore a yellow feather tail in his hat, was the ships lookout officer. With his trusty homemade, fancy, far out, funny binoculars, he would look out for trouble, while nestled, high up above, in the ships crow's nest. Which, by the way, looked very much like my dad's, unusually built and outrageously painted, backyard, outback shed.  
 
The pirate ship also had its own mascot and his name was, Bucko the Duckaneer. Who, always sat in the top left-hand side pockets, of the Captain's identical, twin, lassie daughters, Lena and Mena, at different times of the day.  
 
Then, a boat was seen approaching at super duper fast speed and with the waves his boat was making, tossed the homemade pirate ship Shiftnabout, Slip Slop and Slapping all about, just like inside a waterlogged washing machine full of sea fish.  
 
The Captain Triple T said, 'Fire a shot, across the bow of that super fast boat. Savvy, which he yelled out to him. It actually, really means, 'Do you understand the warning and do you agree with me'?  
 
But the super fast boats captain, Stefan Pettersson of North Noland, who was just cruising past, laughed and shook his head again. He then took off, in his super, fast boat named, Snowski. See! 'You are just another Scallywag, who tried to scuttle my ship.  
 
Is everything shipshape in the galley, ye cook down below? Then, up popped a head and said, 'Yay, everything is **** n Span in the kitchen of mine'. All cleaned up and under control, Flo the Cook was yelling, while handling the very hot bread dough.  
 
Smoochy the Short screamed out, 'Thar she blows'. Smoochy the Short, the ships lookout officer had spotted a very large fish. Blimey! He said, 'It's not a large fish, it's a very familiar whale and it's headed our way.  
 
Captain Billy Stilrite hollered, 'Shiver-Me-Timber and Blow-Me-Down'.  
 
Then, the whale deliberately, slammed into his pirate ship. It was, his pride and joy, even it was cheaply made from wooden ply.  
 
Holy Crap! Aaaarrrrgggghhhh! He yelled in disgust. The whale had managed to rip a large hole in the ship, and out fell the pirate's treasure into the swell. Down and down it went, with all the pirate's mouths wide open and dropping to the floor. But, not a word came out, like you would've expected. They, should've of at-least, managed a groan or a yell.  
 
Then, another pirate ship named, Shining-No-More, had come to steal gold coins and so much more, from the pirate ship we were aboard, named,  
 
Shift-N-About. But, the large hole that the whale had made, was filling up with water and beginning to sink.  
 
Yo ** **! screamed, Captain Triple T, to me, 'Walk the plank now and never be seen on my pirate ship again'. He said, 'That I had made all of this happen'. But, I said, 'It wasn't my fault, for I was knocked out cold and only napping'.  
 
Then, all of the crew started clapping, once I was upon the plank and taking very small steps at a time.  
 
The crew aboard the Shining Amor, felt sorry for the other ships crew and started to help them all aboard. They were helped by people with funny names, such as, Admiral Monty Lopez from the Spanish Armada, 'One would think'!Then, others like Lemmy Rolling-River and even the ship's butler named, Albert Will-That-B-All, the eighth of course.  
 
They, were about to rescue me, but I slipped and fell, head first and took a great dive. Then, I thought while down under here, I might as well start searching, for the sunken treasure.  
 
On my way down, I saw all sorts of things, like a small fish, that didn't smell so nice and even an old rusty knight in shining armor. I even saw a dog with a great big Danish flag around its neck. Also, I saw a yellow duck, an orange Tabby cat and even a guinea pig, swimming on by.  
 
I then saw, the chest full of treasure and made my way towards my find. But when I looked closer, it wasn't treasure at all. It was a glass of my favourite Fruit-Blast, that my mum, had left out for me. She, had made it especially for me, so when I woke up, my head wouldn't feel sore anymore.  
 
For after my great fall, my dad, had sailed back to shore. Then, he carried me into the back of the family's car and drove me home to bed.  
 
When i awoke, my Mum came in to ask, 'How I felt'. I told her, 'I'm feeling Fonderful & Wantastic in shapeship condition, I think!  
 
For none of my fun pirate adventures were even real. For, I was unconscious and it was just an adventurous dream, a very colourful and funny one indeed, it would seem.
© Fetchitnow
20 October 2019.
This children’s fun adventure book series, is only for children from ages, 1-100. So please enjoy.
Note: Please read these in order, from diary entry 1-12, to get the vibe of all of the characters and the colourful sense of this crazy mess.
Michael Pick Feb 2013
Buck up son, you'll do just fine
School will break you down
And you'll move on the next line
What, you think you're special
What, you think you're real
Honey let me tell you
You're only whatever we need
You're not a president's offspring
Just a son off the street
Why would you ever try to think
You could be whatever you dream
Slow down, bucko
Oh, you'll do just fine
If you'll just stand in line
Oh, just take some time
And you'll be cookie-cutter fine

'Cause you're only whatever we need
And if you're thinking any different
Then you're living to a fool's creed
You'll only ever have a few dreams
Living what you're living, oh
You'll only ever be what we need

And I just couldn't believe
What they wanted me to be
What they wanted from me
Oh, it seemed so obscene
But I put down the baseball
And I picked up the bat
Fighting battles on the streets
Easier to die young like that
Don't forget, watch your tone, boy
Mind your filthy tongue
And there isn't a real method
No, no method to move on
You just gotta hope it ends
And that when it ends you've done no wrong

'Cause you're only whatever we need
And if you're thinking any different
Then you're living to a fool's creed
You'll only ever have a few dreams
Living what you're living, oh
You'll only ever be what we need

And here at the end
With the daughter that you've raised
Shutters made of white steel
And the lawn's gone all ablaze
Your life's pulling punches
While the world's so full of rage
Fear's on the docket now,
Yeah, this is worst case
But don't worry boy, you'll do just fine
We taught all of this
And we taught you just in time
Man, this is the world that you made
We raised a bunch of killers
And we based it off of shame

'Cause you're only whatever we need
And if you're thinking any different
Then you're living to a fool's creed
You'll only ever have a few dreams
Living what you're living, oh
You'll only ever be what we need
This was from probably right about the time I left school... so it was written a few months ago. It was more of a lyrical style, I tried to fashion it after the band Hollywood Undead... I kinda like it.
ASinRzSon Feb 2020
I can't not feel sad
It puts me in a box
My box of sad
None of you care
All u can say is life ain't so bad
Chin up bucko
It won't last
U belittle my pain
U ignore my roses
When my petals are beaten and brown
I know when i goto seek your love
I wont hear a sound
For the lust is gone
Like sand on the beach, so many of thee
I can tell your emotions are fading
Based off the last few weeks..
How do i end this love
So lovely in my eyes
It procured so rapid
I think both of us were just going rabid
Sometimes i couldnt stand it.

If your love is real
And keeping my heart is still the deal
Show me that your ribs mean more to you
Than just a cage of steel
Guarding your heart
It beats, SO REAL
Fade from my eyes, like the sun
Before our last meal
Lay down lay down
But please, be quick to forget me
For i am in no just memory to you
Seems as of lately i just cater to you
How am i supposed to walk straight
When all you do is add more weight
I wish to run fast,
to break all your chains
I wish to end fast, to leave all the pain.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2022
calm down: calm down... put on some Faun on...
yes, some neo-paganism ought to sooth me...
ahh... Wind & Geige...
     a great calming music...

no... did what happen last night actually happen?
let me check my account...
****... it did...

        my hands are still sort of shaky...
i woke up and there was still half a bottle of whiskey
left... that's the first time i got a headache
while drinking...

that's the first time i got a headache while drinking
whiskey...

and all i hear is that we live in a patriarchal unfair
society blah blah...
                well... all i see a society guided
by meritocracy... honestly... oh... and that guys
are weird... creepy... perverted...
sure... even i was sent a phallus photograph by
some Arab guy...
and i was like: dude... i'm a dude!
             not homophobic of anything...
    i must have kissed at least two guys in my life...
one... very memorable...
2005... Hogmanay... Prince's Street party...
Tristan's friend from Bristol...
     one handsome *******....
a proper decent snog...
    but i forgot his name but not his face...
                                another time i let this guy
put his tongue in my mouth...
another time my cousin took me to a gay
bar and i started snogging like mad...
this Brazilian treat...
                                 but a ****-pick? seriously?
i did add: show me it limp...
                         that's the "bros'" secret...
they take a picture of their "tackle" right after
having ****** off... and as it's limping...
    it looks double the initial size... anyway...
a guy seeing a ****-pick is nothing...

                    insert gulping sound and shaking hands...
yeah... men all are in creepy... the dogs...
yeah... it's not like i'm a ******...
obviously... it's not like i haven't had a *******...
it's not like i haven't paid for ***...
obviously... but i didn't pay for an expensive
date... i'm a *****-cheap-***...
                               well no... courtship on the quick...
no *******-around just wholesome *******...
the 1960s generation had their frisk and frivolity?
sure thing... i'm going to have mine to...
             oh come: share the love... share the love...

****** liberation 2.0
                                          oh and the much bigger O...
that's 2 prostitutes i managed to bring to the altar
of the big O...
    second time? unexpected... slobbering on the oyster
and using Herr Index and Herr Mitte...
   and i've had a ****** oyster too...
let me tell you: the one that has had plenty of
other... ahem... cucumbers... always taste better...
mind you... prostitutes these days are ultra-hygienic...
they're sort of compulsive about it...
then again: so am i...

    but this July heat wave is killing me...
        i want to get some but i can't: and i don't care
what the stereotype is in the animal kingdom:
hot weather puts me off... my libido goes into hibernation...
i need the cold... winter! come! come!
mein gott... when my parents die i'm selling
the house and ******* off to Greenland or the Faroe Islands...

who else will i live for in England?
no one... might as well have no one to live for
in a climate that better suits me...
Norway is too civilised...
                            i need to go somewhere basic:
with a bad internet connection and plenty of herring...

- now i'm going to have a little joke concerning
anyone abusing the post-traumatic stress disorder,
i've heard it countless times...
sure... like this one girl who i had to fulfill
the role of the Advocate personality type:
"personality types"... for me that's a pet-peeve...
i treat all this psychological-quacking
a bit like astrology: for me it's a hyper-zodiac
model: people trying to mystify themselves
without actually internalising themselves:
absolutely no introspection... laziness...
    they just follow what other people thought of:
as long as it's a schematic A + B = C sort of *******...

anyway... yeah... men are dogs... barbaric creatures
that need to be steralised... or something...
ah... pleasure...
                set... simple... gasp...
i'm no German... but i can see an example where
an ß could be introduced into English...
pleaßure... that's a pristine example of an es-zett...
the S morphs into a Z...
    it's "invisible" unlike in seizure... no... wait...
unlike in steralised steralized...
html! which is... ah...

          sterilized...  LISARD ZALAD...
                                        then again... i have Caucasian
origins... and the Cow-Cass
    is somewhere between Europe and what's the big-buttocks
of Asia's landmass...
no wonder i'm more inclined to Turkic women...
Turkic... a certain Ms. Patel...
                  i'm always drawn to something nomadic...
perhaps because i'm also somehow nomadic...

and all the *** in the most shady of places...
didn't prepare me for this...
that's the first time i got a headache when drinking...
yeah... only the men are freaky... creepy...
just take your average Muslim or Hindu girl...
expose her to western culture and... they too lose
their minds...
so i'm chatting: blah blah this... blah blah that...

she send me a picture of herself clothed...
fair enough... nice sari... nice carpets...
not a selfie... another girl took a picture of her...
and then the ******* N-BOMB...
eh?! that's how the headache started...

N-BOMB? ****! ****... these anti-racists and their
deifying of racial slur words...
there are more important words that ought
to not be uttered... me? i have...
the Name... i.e. Ha-Shem...
                                i can't say The Name:
hence? i say the name...
                          which is Ha-Shem... i'm sort of weird
like that...
   and no... i will never submit to circumcision...
enough is enough... double standards:
calling it FGM while not calling it MGM... come on...
these guys don't know the pleasure
of ******* with a *******!

it has become so bad that even the less experienced
prostitutes don't know what to do with it...
the more experienced ones know that you "half-peel" it...
yeah... it works like a jaw... it's "mandible":
you can work around it...
no... the "head" will not become starved...
the more you do it... the more flexible it becomes...
stretchy... pull-e...
            plus i need it to *******.... esp.
when i'm constipated and sitting on the throne of thrones:
i figured that it eases any tension in the ****
when constipation knocks on my door...

i didn't invest all that time and effort to complete
my William Burroughs' oeuvre for no ****** reason:
i love ****-****** literature...
but that's old school homosexuality...
the covert... subversive sexuality...
the adventurous: the torturous sexuality...
the whole aspect of the deviant taboo...
the best sort of literature...
now? with all the "pride"... eh... stalemate...
stale-bread... boring: yawn... new kinks don't really
cover the original allure...
"pride": yeah yeah... just get in line... get on with it...
YAwn...
  
                       it's a return to basics... paying for ***...
that's the rekindled new-old taboo...
i don't see the point of paying for a date...
well... the very first date i ever paid for
made sense... college-sweethearts sort of memorandum...
but i made a date into a day...
first we went and walked around an Edward Hopper
exhibition at that Tate Modern...
then... we went to the cinema to see the movie
Troy... then we drank sake and ate sushi...
we were just friends prior...
i was 6ft2 she was 6ft... so i was the only good
suitor at the school... she just came from Australia...
she complained about her father exploiting
her as a child being a performer for some
green-globalist agenda... since then
she has had 5 glorious girls... and i...
planted about 8 trees in my garden...

i'm suspicious though: of two women "in my life":
her... she married a guy 20 years older than her...
hmm...
and the neighbour across my street...
the noise is still a deafness to me... the noise
of renovation... surely she didn't move
two doors down from me: from across the street
to be close to her mother... then again:
hands in the air... flapping like a seagull
pretending to takeoff: but rather, more, agitated...
mein gott...
i caught myself being a ******...
hung-over... peeping Tom from behind the blinds...
watching her clean the patio with a jet-stream
of water...
a... "mediocre" beauty... no...
a wholesome beauty... oats... pears...
autumn... not a beauty based on a number scale...
an associative-dissociative attraction scale...

i.e. it's a moon one minute... it's a sun the next...
a river-esque sort of beauty...
the initial attraction was there...
i think i was watching the Silence of the Lambs
trying to nod off and get some sleep...
BAM!
   the mother walks into the bedroom naked...
she did that a few times after...
BAM! the older sister walks in naked...
BAM... she walks in naked...
   **** me... and at her tender age back then...
what must she bee? 14?! well... it has been years
since... she's put on more weight but
at the black guys says: more cushion for the pushin'...

i agree... i "abhor" athletic women...
more cushion... i think i have a fat face...
i can't stop thinking that i have a fat face...
and? if i think that i have a fat face?
i need some more: "bubble"... blubber...

hmm... the truest love i have ever found is always bound
to not understanding women...
the truest love i have ever found has always been
bound to forgiving women...
that's the simplest sort of love there is...
whether in the right or whether in the wrong:
a woman can only be loved if she's
to be: a priori: forgiven... rather than a priori:
understand...

like that common proverb states:
you can't live with them,
but you also can't live without them...

some medical soap opera and i'm sitting watching it...
cringing...
i could think of myself as a vetenarian...
****... vetinarian...
                       VEH-TEH-RI-NAH-RIAN...
           veterinarian... ugh... H-surd sometimes helps
when writing in English...
and i could imagine myself as a butcher...
aha... problem being...
i wouldn't mind saving the life... or rather not saving
a life of something i could also eat...

career path... surgeon?! i'd have cannibalistic
fetishes... and i don't want them...
          it's just not my "thing"...

SNAP!

so it's ****** harassment when a guy does it to a girl...
but when a girl does it to a guy?
i'm supposed to be this: READY-ON-THE-GO...
libido insomnia
SWITCH-ON SWITCH-OFF
   ******* ***-toy robot: no mood... no emotions?!
**** it up Bucko...
             that's the new ******* normal?
a girl... from an obviously ultra-conservative
culture sends me a picture of herself showering:
OBVIOUSLY she's ******* naked...
and i'm like what? Jihadi Aisha sends her thanks...
i don't even think not jerking off will help...
i tried it... it does: **** all...

oh sure... first she send me a picture of her fully dressed...
pretty as a picture... then?
head-chopped off... **** the size of elephant's ears...
i'm telling you: the deity of the Wendols...
the death eaters from the 13th warrior...
my shadow is stirring...
             i feel my face becoming detached...
from the concept of both face and head
and therefore skeleton...
                   my face is becoming a representation
of the concept of what's hidden within
an exoskeleton of an insect: it's becoming
a mush or mirror, smoke, squidge... squid...
i don't know what else...
   i'm not even reacting like an autistic person...
i'm reacting like any normal person should:
you're not supposed to be complimented
by a girl sending you a photo of herself in the shower...
****'s sake...
even the ******* that became fond of me
went as far as sending me a photograph of herself
in her bra and underwear...
but you know what she also did?
she covered her belly-button with a kiss emoticon...

**** me... we're living in times when
prostitutes replaced the priests!
concerning?! ****** aesthetics! aesthetics!
people! the idea of "free" *** is an abomination!
i don't want any set-backs...
i'm not doing this for any set-backs...
to hell with all the sort of corrupt *******
most associated with the culture thus represented:
thus... unsustainable...

i always wondered: profiling: is it a tool to sell?
or is it a tool to explore?
poet or diarist? certainly not a novelist...
i abhor complete works...
novels are complete works...
      but they're certainly not adhering
to the principle of エンソー
                    
   and with エンソー i will revive my origin interest in
Taoism...

yes... but it's the power of consent...
i didn't ask her to send me a picture of her ****
torso...
now i'm thinking: i'm thinking:
i need to milk at least 20 imaginary cows
before i get the idea of pretending to be an
anti-infanct
******* off her ******* till they're numb
out of my head...
Hades! bring me 20 cows that need to be milked!

i'm being visually *****!
i know what **** feels like...
this South African chick...
  i think she spiked my drink...
we watched the Machinist... she... and i cooked
dinner... she was a teacher at a private prep school...
but i was *****...
this was our second encounter...
first time my "Jolly Roger" felt like drift-wood...
she uttered the words: you're not going to deny me...

well... **** me... seems like a Ricky G. joke
about to drop...
true... i wasn't in the mood the first time round...
second time round...
oh... **** me... cuckoon ***...
in absolute darkness... with the bed-sheets on...
i'm naked but i'm also suffocating...
she spiked my drink...
even in the brothel i don't get aroused by
these uncomfortable situations...
          o.k.... fair enough "Pistorius"... hop hop...
you ******* dry Dutch ****!

i ought to know when: ******* dry-**** "ballerina"...
i ought to know when a ******* oils herself
up and when she doesn't...
sure... #metoo... i also ****** girls
i wasn't really into...
but this one broke the norm!
she didn't send me the Mechanist DVD i brought
with me to the date back! *****!

all that Christian Bale effort to play this
tormented anorexic: why no Oscar?
a role definitely more informative than whatever
the **** the Joker: Whack-Lean Fix-Fin won his
Ocar for... whatever... from now on in
i'm going to call them: Woo-Scars...

dry-****? oh... right... i wasn't asking a question...
that's how you get ***** by a woman...
she's dry... she's bitter...
she's probably a teacher in a private all-boys school...
you haven't been circumcised:
lucky you...
at least you were laying slabs on one of the roofs
of the Battersea Dogs & Cats shelter...

one was yesterday...
another was tomorrow...
   **** happens... Newton "happened"...
i don't even think you can think as either being
or not being... or born or dead...
since... well... Newton happened...
and by happening: he's recurring...
    which implies: the utmost of the Tao doctrine
of "not doing"... eh... excesses of para-mortality.

you don't want to be sent a photograph
of a woman's naked torso:
so casually... while she's having a shower...
for my ******* ******* libido to function
it requires respite...
unless... i've been promised all the things
these modern Jihadi Johns...
what about the Ummah and the Chinese Muslims
currently in concentration camps?
sub-humans?! the Uyghurs?!
where's the war for them?!
            ******* *******...

                         no Arab fight for them?! just...
the same old same old boring attack:
post-colonial weaknesses to the fore...
                                       the Uyghurs! they're part
of the UMMAH!
                      i see the modern Arab world
and you know what i see? the Medieval Byzantine world.

— The End —