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"tubby" poems
He appears tough, he stands tall. But truly, underneath it all, He's sympathetic, vulnerable. I can't believe myself for being so horrible. It's true that I love him, With my heart and soul. But's it's somewhat- Overwhelming. My space I feel is shifting. I can't tell if it's a good thing. I want him close, near by. However, I feel scared inside. Will he think I'm too lazy? What if in reality I appear pudgy. Sure, he says he doesn't mind. I'll just be his tubby for life. Which I kinda like, But still. These insecurities. They drown me. Very slowly, They're suffocating. Please God, is it too much to ask for? Just for once, to enjoy being loved. I want him to pick me up in an embrace! For ***** sake, can't I just, take off these weights... I've hurt him. I have nothing else to say.
0
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 8:54 PM UTC
A Realization
The Pedicab drivers of Gotham all say You should ignore a "Whale Hail" because it just doesn't pay. The city is hilly and to pedal gets tough when your passengers are, shall we say, overstuffed. Two tubby tourists out on the town between them they weighed about Eight Hundred Pounds. They had wiped out the Sushi at an all you can eat. Much too lazy to walk on their overstressed feet. They hailed for a Pedicab of which there's a multitude Thats the sole explanation for accepting their pulchritude. Their ride started slowly, but pleasant enough. But then came a hill and the going got rough. He groaned and he struggled as he trucked up the road, but not even juiced Armstrong could handle this load. With two tubby tourists ensconced in the back. He slowed to a crawl then stalled in his tracks. Something had to give with those two in the rear The cab then turned turtle chucking him in the air. The two tubby tourist were down on their backs Their driver unconscious and two tires flat. An Ambulance came and gave him first aide The two tourists rolled off and he never got paid. If we banned too large colas and sixty ounce beers could we hope that these land whales might,one day, disappear? Until then its risky to pick such fares up unless in a limo or a truck thats Ram tough
0
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 10:38 PM UTC
The tale of the Two Tubby Tourists
Peace! God’s Peace upon you all! The Bishop blessed The dyed-young congregation: dyed fathers ‘n mothers, Grandpas ‘n grannies, great-grandpas and great-grannies. The demons of decadence--Hair dye, ****** and Spirits – Chuckled and giggled, crouching well under the pulpit. Dyed gurus ‘n financiers, dyed lawyers, doctors n’ nurses, ****** entrepreneurs and ****** entertainers, dyed judges Dyed ‘n spirited evangelists, priests and vergers on ****** Peace be upon thee all! Blessed the Bishop from the pulpit. Now, the demons in the hiding iterated and reiterated it. A Sunday spirited chat—all smiles! -- in the church portico: The Viagra-dyed banker in later life smiled a dyed smile At the elderly dyed mother of three; and she said: they say, In spite of my age, you know, I look so young and pretty! And the thick flanks under her chin jiggled in approbation. The ****** great-grandpa said to the dyed Justice of spirits: Milord, they say: “The stuff brings cancer;” Fools! Idiots! “The gloves—the condom-like device—that’s our safety!” “Milord! This trinity wizard, they bring a million crores To the exchequer of this famished democracy, milord!” “Milord! The nature lovers say, we wash billions of bottles Of these magic stuffs into their rivers and the seas, milord!” “They say we all-- dyed ****** men-- are sissies and doofuses!” “Milord! Our tubby women dye young, lest they’d be labelled Mammy, Granny, Grandma, Old Granny, the decrepit ‘n that! Now, the dyed media reported: father mated with his daughter, Mother with a teenager, grandpa with an infant; and Ministers, MLAs, MPs—all spirits-Viagra-dyed-- are in a ******* spree! Now the Dark Trinity cried “Wow! In this world of ****** The Kingdom, the Power and the Glory--all are ours! Amen!
0
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 11:20 AM UTC
BLESSINGS FROM THE DEMONS
Peace! God’s Peace upon you all! The Bishop blessed The dyed-young congregation: dyed fathers ‘n mothers, Grandpas ‘n grannies, great-grandpas and great-grannies. The demons of decadence--Hair dye, ****** and Spirits – Chuckled and giggled, crouching well under the pulpit. Dyed gurus ‘n financiers, dyed lawyers, doctors n’ nurses, ****** entrepreneurs and ****** entertainers, dyed judges Dyed ‘n spirited evangelists, priests and vergers on ****** Peace be upon thee all! Blessed the Bishop from the pulpit. Now, the demons in the hiding iterated and reiterated it. A Sunday spirited chat—all smiles! -- in the church portico: The Viagra-dyed banker in later life smiled a dyed smile At the elderly dyed mother of three; and she said: they say, In spite of my age, you know, I look so young and pretty! And the thick flanks under her chin jiggled in approbation. The ****** great-grandpa said to the dyed Justice of spirits: Milord, they say: “The stuff brings cancer;” Fools! Idiots! “The gloves—the condom-like device—that’s our safety!” “Milord! This trinity wizard, they bring a million crores To the exchequer of this famished democracy, milord!” “Milord! The nature lovers say, we wash billions of bottles Of these magic stuffs into their rivers and the seas, milord!” “They say we all-- dyed ****** men-- are sissies and doofuses!” “Milord! Our tubby women dye young, lest they’d be labelled Mammy, Granny, Grandma, Old Granny, the decrepit ‘n that! Now, the dyed media reported: father mated with his daughter, Mother with a teenager, grandpa with an infant; and Ministers, MLAs, MPs—all spirits-Viagra-dyed-- are in a ******* spree! Now the Dark Trinity cried “Wow! In this world of ****** The Kingdom, the Power and the Glory--all are ours! Amen!
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30
Ever seen the inside of a Teletubbie's belly? I did that **** gave me cataracts and glaucoma which lead to injesting large amounts of guacamole got huge mostly in the head- found a homeless man, let him sleep on my couch he liked to tell stories about his encounters with celebrities oh which he was one back in the day, I think he was on Rosanne never watched it but he was cool enough we biked to the overpass to drop waterballoons on those who needed them most like fake-tanned blondes in convertibles and bicyclers. I love all kinds of people and can forgive their beligerence though mine are quite strange I like canoing in trees and making mosaics from bone fragments and rubies just a bit of a mind juggler smacking singles on counters for pregnancy tests and breath mint tell a tubby his belly is wide and boy you'll be scoutin' a whole new skull.
0
Jun 2, 2012
Jun 2, 2012 at 11:31 PM UTC
Bene, grazie!
Our Tractor Man Our tractor man is doing What he really likes to do: Clearing snow. He suits my mental man-with-plow. Trading pig and cow For gear he likes to sit inside; The tractor hut; Tranquil woods to clear and saw, Chop and cut; Tractor wheel, forest smell, Alone deciding what to fell. Muddy potholes in the spring, Flood and crud his tractor´s thing. Nicely chubby, Slightly tubby; Sixty odd, His tractor and the woods his God. I esteem this earthy man Dharma bound to seasoned stars That fix the farmer life and plan Unchangeable and stable. Our Tractor Man passed away 2016. Our Tractor Man 3.4.2003 (revised 11.19.2016) Circling Round Nature; Circling Round Time; Special People, Special Occasions; Birth. Death & In Between II; Arlene Corwin our devoted tractor man who plowed our road in the winter.
0
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC
Our Tractor Man
A bear however how hard he tries, Grows tubby without exercise. Our Teddy bear grows short and fat- Which is not to be wondered at. He gets what exercise he can By falling off the ottoman- But generally seem to lack, The energy to clamber back. Now tubbiness is just the thing. Which gets a fellow wondering- And Teddy worries a lot about The fact that he was rather stout. He thought” If only I were thin! But how would anyone begin? It really isn’t fair To judge one exercise and air.”
0
Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 9:55 AM UTC
My Teddy Bear
at first things were great with my mom and my dad she should have stayed best she could have had., most would call it shallow to leave be on  your own, not some tantrom all around disaster day by day a year matured faster I was only nine helping mamma cross the line, child support goes for my stepbrothers fine. maybe when he was my age he belonged in a love cage,. 10 His own mind rage,. but sneakin out at night for some hood fight !  back to 21 remember  that he died right. only one who cried long my heart syed a new song, never understood. cant we just get along? yea you say a bad kid, as a parent not helpin had did.. with learning had hid, hurting words created     thats why my brother deflated... mom I was good kid seain what was right never under stood you'd rather quit or split You know I was you're hero you made me just some zero... once was indepenent then boom the mind flent, now your'e just insane controlled by cliffs chain, but you know that I dipped along the way I tripped one thing that I fell, atleast I'm out my shell led out on the train achieved my life regain, sorry that I hit him, your hubby just was  cruel as a lil Rhym he through me in the tubby hit me with his bottles called me fat and chubby beaming red eyes screaming  all night crys, all on my own, brother helped when I got thrown.       even at four got pushed to the floor.... by the way just more to say Once i hit twelve I ran for he door Thid bad man for the rest of her life she said yes to be his wife, with his big ring knee on the floor I just think 'Ding hells at the door...       moms the baby inside screams save me   plus her dad got out the knife he was crazy her whole life by time i Got to ten my mind was in a den,. every day was yelling,       just be soft and sweet by telling, I know you are just scared And once you really cared. with your so called man, the one with no life planned   You see I left the road called far west with out your'e hand I just want the best, one day mom you wont see me one day mom you'll be at rest.. cause that mess left bullets in your'e chest :'( </3 Arrywillbeloved2013© copy right protected
0
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 11:04 PM UTC
same **** different day livin up while its all gray.....
at first things were great with my mom and my dad she should have stayed best she could have had., most would call it shallow to leave be on  your own, not some tantrom all around disaster day by day a year matured faster I was only nine helping mamma cross the line, child support goes for my stepbrothers fine. maybe when he was my age he belonged in a love cage,. 10 His own mind rage,. but sneakin out at night for some hood fight !  back to 21 remember  that he died right. only one who cried long my heart syed a new song, never understood. cant we just get along? yea you say a bad kid, as a parent not helpin had did.. with learning had hid, hurting words created     thats why my brother deflated... mom I was good kid seain what was right never under stood you'd rather quit or split You know I was you're hero you made me just some zero... once was indepenent then boom the mind flent, now your'e just insane controlled by cliffs chain, but you know that I dipped along the way I tripped one thing that I fell, atleast I'm out my shell led out on the train achieved my life regain, sorry that I hit him, your hubby just was  cruel as a lil Rhym he through me in the tubby hit me with his bottles called me fat and chubby beaming red eyes screaming  all night crys, all on my own, brother helped when I got thrown.       even at four got pushed to the floor.... by the way just more to say Once i hit twelve I ran for he door Thid bad man for the rest of her life she said yes to be his wife, with his big ring knee on the floor I just think 'Ding hells at the door...       moms the baby inside screams save me   plus her dad got out the knife he was crazy her whole life by time i Got to ten my mind was in a den,. every day was yelling,       just be soft and sweet by telling, I know you are just scared And once you really cared. with your so called man, the one with no life planned   You see I left the road called far west with out your'e hand I just want the best, one day mom you wont see me one day mom you'll be at rest.. cause that mess left bullets in your'e chest :'( </3 Arrywillbeloved2013© copy right protected
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49
Little bunny Your so funny And so fluffy On your tummy Very chubby Very tubby Your personality Is so bubbly Little baby Little honey Stay away from humanity We will cause insanity
0
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 11:33 PM UTC
Bunny
though strictly Fermi, and oh...(en Rico) plus sun dre other parvenues, a rapture surges thru me, when audibly communicating, enunciating, and speaking English words as if hi ken run a marathon, or zip to the moon, (take as cheesy tong in cheek) from this pun gent, who relishes reading for my eyes and ears asper myself, which purported nun sense ink reese sees learn'n den earn an award, especially wash'n black board den breathing intelligent dust from eraser head could awk cord, I utter Hieronymus Bosch, bing enamored, and aye actually confess tubby a model United Nations chimp pan zee, and/or other type of survey monkey hook can huff ford Old Rotten Gotham horde sliding down into the behavioral sink... exclaiming "oh me jack lord" and getting rescued then getting less on, sans get'n taut how (muss elf George Eliot) tubby comb moored flossed, milled, and taut tubby trained for Operation Ready Date by a coop pull oof oot standing chap, named Adam West, who poured salty epithets (reminding me, as they roared that life iz brutal, short and nasty), part tickly ne'r the end wharf hew scored and majority got de toured until emotionally, physically, and spiritually enlightened By Rabindranath Tagore and Burt Ward.
0
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 2:11 AM UTC
The Rapture When Reading Aloud
when i started to smoke marijuana aged 20 with this russian cupcake of falling asleep in a seashell entwined i took to listening to: ***** & the maytals, culture, israel vibration, damian marley, stephen marley, ziggy, basil daley, brenton dowe, bunny wailer, burning spear, cornel & the brentford rockers, earl zero, freddie mckay, jackie mittoo, keith hudson, king tubby, lloyd robinson & brentford disco, lone ranger, peter tosh, soul vendors, sound dimension, the heptones, the new establishment, wailing souls, willie & the brentford rockers, winston & the new establishment... i sometimes wish i went into the stoner rock direction to experience that side of the ethnic cultural exploitation of a certain intoxication... anyway, whatever... i forget to mention barrington levy, gregory isaac, alpha blondy and sort of classify collie buddz as reggae’s eminem.
0
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 8:27 PM UTC
aged 20
Contains More Than Kernel Of Truthful alienation, expulsion, ostracization from body politick if member of society resistant, indifferent, adamant, et cetera despite differentiation (across the figurative board) intolerance opposing ethos, asper unspoken social graces extant (albeit manifested amidst diverse livingsocial variations) within rubric of global civilizations primal, oral, nonverbal, et cetera codas automatically decreeing manual Kant instilled from cradle to grave impossible mission scant acceptance toward recalcitrant challenging precepts via rave and/or rant thus when born into whatever culture, steeped with historical paradigm one can protest superficial nigh cities til ivy blue in the face, or try to concoct a feeble rhyme but culture club richly identified, endowed, brewed from heritage long time ago until the cows come home to roost hence creative pursuits one direction can turn to swiftly tailor if harried styled with perceived restrictive parameters and cuss like a sailor with song and dance routine (perhaps appearing on Dancing With The Stars), or choosing subterfuge viz writing nefarious malware code, wheremailer daemons spring to life, when computer code following infinitely jesting illogic causing exhaler (case in point - myself, hoot ends tubby humorous) as yukon gauge yet another Internet end user might experience greater reason to rage against the machine before turning rogue gushing renegade, stage jing anarchy against disparity with equal pay, cuz a working wage aint nuttin boot peanuts so if strong willed, hook hairs if you appear like a putz just realize doggerel of this pooch iz gaseous boot utterly without guts and hangs around the junkyard with other nerdy mutts.
0
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 6:47 PM UTC
No shucking Small Talk...
Contains More Than Kernel Of Truthful alienation, expulsion, ostracization from body politick if member of society resistant, indifferent, adamant, et cetera despite differentiation (across the figurative board) intolerance opposing ethos, asper unspoken social graces extant (albeit manifested amidst diverse livingsocial variations) within rubric of global civilizations primal, oral, nonverbal, et cetera codas automatically decreeing manual Kant instilled from cradle to grave impossible mission scant acceptance toward recalcitrant challenging precepts via rave and/or rant thus when born into whatever culture, steeped with historical paradigm one can protest superficial nigh cities til ivy blue in the face, or try to concoct a feeble rhyme but culture club richly identified, endowed, brewed from heritage long time ago until the cows come home to roost hence creative pursuits one direction can turn to swiftly tailor if harried styled with perceived restrictive parameters and cuss like a sailor with song and dance routine (perhaps appearing on Dancing With The Stars), or choosing subterfuge viz writing nefarious malware code, wheremailer daemons spring to life, when computer code following infinitely jesting illogic causing exhaler (case in point - myself, hoot ends tubby humorous) as yukon gauge yet another Internet end user might experience greater reason to rage against the machine before turning rogue gushing renegade, stage jing anarchy against disparity with equal pay, cuz a working wage aint nuttin boot peanuts so if strong willed, hook hairs if you appear like a putz just realize doggerel of this pooch iz gaseous boot utterly without guts and hangs around the junkyard with other nerdy mutts.
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54
In the small school chapel Martha stood in front of the black wood crucifix high on the wall if she stood on tiptoe she could just about touch the plaster paris Crucified's nailed feet the chapel was empty no sound smell of incense and old bricks and aged bodies of old nuns who once fumed here Martha stood on tiptoe and kissed the Crucified's nailed feet with her lips soft lips on paster feet Jesus I want to be your bride want to hold you close want to have you near let your ears hear she whispered she went back on her feet watched the Crucified His arms outstretched His nailed hands like claws His eyes looking skywards not particularly hairy like her father was not under the arms or chest she mused what are you doing here Martha Maguire? A nun said creeping up behind her having slid in like a shadow from the cloister Martha turned around talking to the Crucified Martha said eyeing the tubby nun why are you not in class? The nun said Martha turned back to gaze at the Crucified wanted to talk to Him she said not during class-time the nun said now get on to your class and don't be here during school time understand me? Martha gazed at the Crucified's eyes heavenward gazing His hands nailed cruelly if I could Martha said I'd unnail Him take Him in my arms and hug Him to being better the nun frowned gazed at the back and backside of the Maguire girl will you get yourself off to class Maguire I won't tell you again or you'll being having a ruler across your palms once more Martha sighed she thought she saw the Crucified eye her but couldn't be sure.
0
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 9:00 AM UTC
COULDN'T BE SURE 1963.
In the small school chapel Martha stood in front of the black wood crucifix high on the wall if she stood on tiptoe she could just about touch the plaster paris Crucified's nailed feet the chapel was empty no sound smell of incense and old bricks and aged bodies of old nuns who once fumed here Martha stood on tiptoe and kissed the Crucified's nailed feet with her lips soft lips on paster feet Jesus I want to be your bride want to hold you close want to have you near let your ears hear she whispered she went back on her feet watched the Crucified His arms outstretched His nailed hands like claws His eyes looking skywards not particularly hairy like her father was not under the arms or chest she mused what are you doing here Martha Maguire? A nun said creeping up behind her having slid in like a shadow from the cloister Martha turned around talking to the Crucified Martha said eyeing the tubby nun why are you not in class? The nun said Martha turned back to gaze at the Crucified wanted to talk to Him she said not during class-time the nun said now get on to your class and don't be here during school time understand me? Martha gazed at the Crucified's eyes heavenward gazing His hands nailed cruelly if I could Martha said I'd unnail Him take Him in my arms and hug Him to being better the nun frowned gazed at the back and backside of the Maguire girl will you get yourself off to class Maguire I won't tell you again or you'll being having a ruler across your palms once more Martha sighed she thought she saw the Crucified eye her but couldn't be sure.
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91
sam i yam not, nor will this 'lo bot go away cuz, every coordinate in cyber space allows, enables and provides an opportunity to bray, and thence get access to each excel lent power full point one among the beguiling bajillion, thus this ming boggling concept proffers (even the generic mom and pop hacker tubby in her/his element field gloating as if they won the Irish Sweepstakes that day despite neither could claim direct lineage, sans Emerald Eire analogous to Celtic temptress, whose grand geography beckons toward entranceway, where sensory, levity, and ecstasy punctuate foray boot that diverges one hundred and eighty degrees asper gateway onrush of spam enters electronic hatchway spilling forth like offal horrific bilge interlay sloshing violently, revoltingly, and nauseatingly, witnessing a jay bird donning mask (yule hating) beak coming contrivance fashioned keyway. force full brainstorm to firewall to place on indefinite layaway inundation of spam midway between now and eternity, essentially noway no more, and if necessary hermetically seal myself stationing a pal in drone willingly overpay!
0
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 1:22 AM UTC
where in tarnation doth spam arise?
We stopped at Madrid base camp and I put the book back in my duffle bag what you reading? Miriam said I took the book out and showed her The Apostle? what's it about? St Paul you know the guy who found Christ on the road to Damascus o him she said why are you reading about him? wanted to read what he was like and did I said she shrugged and said everyone for their own salvation I guess I put the book away in the bag we walked to a base camp cafe and ordered burgers and cokes and sat at a table together who you sharing a tent with? she said some young ex army guy I said what's he like? she said he moans a lot about the army and his mother and his mother's guy whom he hates I said shame you can't share with me she said smiling but I’ve got a tubby girl with me who eyes all the guys but the guys avoid shame I said maybe she's all right o she's all right but not my type she smiled maybe we should team her up with that ex army guy Miriam said then we could shack up and have good night together I looked at her don't think he'll be interested he's off dames as well some girl had let him down a few months back I said shame Miriam said it would have been good I guess it would I said we ate and drank and went back to our separate tents to change for the camp disco later I watched her walked with that swaying *** and I walked back reluctantly over the damp grass.
0
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
OVER DAMP GRASS 1970.
**** chucking his weight around. Hardship chap is sailing away, Filling in forms on office computer. From yesterday into today. And into the future. And **** he says you're much too early, got you by the short and curlys. Chaps a freaking telly tubby. Wearing no hat but, his jobs worth hat. Me, well I am no snob. Will be glad to start my job. Sitting in benefit heaven. Watching the security guard pacing the floor. Snotty mother, him not me. Benefits given for free? The porky chap is joking. Asked to use the lavatory. There isn't one within, Where on earth's this old woman to go to discard her gin. (c)Livvi
0
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
JOB CENTRE VISIT
Today the Sunday special brief iCloud online worship session, I did attend (via remote support) found me feeling pampered, when adept technical support didst figuratively bend over backwards, thus aye defend glorious, righteous, and zealous Gurus who did expend their religious fervor, without proselytizing and sanctified dedication they proffered as if this secular chap hapt tubby a long time Facebook friend diligently persevered amidst my woeful yelping alarm where bot sized wetbacks, setbacks, and drawbacks, required a secret char which this netizen vaguely understood as unfair be-tidings disallowing thyself to purchase additional farm ming out iCloud storage in the deleterious harm akin to buggy ah mush swarm comprised documents (painstakingly slaved over with zest) plus sundry data necessitating mooch *** legal tender (probably every last red cent of mine) to in vest concerted efforts of at least one expert to test her/his mettle in an attempt (dim prospect) performing an in quest to retrieve valuable data lost amidst a nest of inaccessible "lost" information (bantering with computer jargon more so jest with no intention to "FAKE" trumpeting minimal knowledge judiciously impressed upon thine fifty plus shades of gray matter, at my be hest expressing scant cumulative disc cussing duff frag minted understanding lest, a personal goal to incapsulate in poetic best not abandoning frustration with this Macbook Pro cuz, positive experience wrought with Apostles eye attest, so rather then vent my spleen in vein hie desisted to rage against the machine, and tack toward being urbane thus, rejoicing with a cherry, hearty, and mighty byte hooray, asper driving, exercising, and foisting gentle circuitry vis a vis neurotransmitters and neuromodulators nudging pull-ups within cerebral terrain.
0
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 7:17 PM UTC
Benediction For Lord Apple Macintosh
Today the Sunday special brief iCloud online worship session, I did attend (via remote support) found me feeling pampered, when adept technical support didst figuratively bend over backwards, thus aye defend glorious, righteous, and zealous Gurus who did expend their religious fervor, without proselytizing and sanctified dedication they proffered as if this secular chap hapt tubby a long time Facebook friend diligently persevered amidst my woeful yelping alarm where bot sized wetbacks, setbacks, and drawbacks, required a secret char which this netizen vaguely understood as unfair be-tidings disallowing thyself to purchase additional farm ming out iCloud storage in the deleterious harm akin to buggy ah mush swarm comprised documents (painstakingly slaved over with zest) plus sundry data necessitating mooch *** legal tender (probably every last red cent of mine) to in vest concerted efforts of at least one expert to test her/his mettle in an attempt (dim prospect) performing an in quest to retrieve valuable data lost amidst a nest of inaccessible "lost" information (bantering with computer jargon more so jest with no intention to "FAKE" trumpeting minimal knowledge judiciously impressed upon thine fifty plus shades of gray matter, at my be hest expressing scant cumulative disc cussing duff frag minted understanding lest, a personal goal to incapsulate in poetic best not abandoning frustration with this Macbook Pro cuz, positive experience wrought with Apostles eye attest, so rather then vent my spleen in vein hie desisted to rage against the machine, and tack toward being urbane thus, rejoicing with a cherry, hearty, and mighty byte hooray, asper driving, exercising, and foisting gentle circuitry vis a vis neurotransmitters and neuromodulators nudging pull-ups within cerebral terrain.
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64
i thought i heard the ****** of the blue bell around your neck girl i paused my creative trickle to chase you all around this property and that one i hugged your mom washed my hands rolled up my sleeve and you were still gone into the cat ethers you werent even meowing hell how are we supposed to feed you when you wont return the "HIIIIII!!!" we yell at the expense of our own self-esteem i opened all the doors for you just to return and keep my seat on that armchair warm the only place you could have been more removed from my line of sight least advantageous to your keepers most absent from your natural environment least accommodating to our directives the only place you could have been curled up and purring after all that???! seriously. i had to get on my belly to see you laughing at me cool in your aunts room tail wagging "I FOUND HER!!!"
0
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
lost cat {i see you tubby}
( this work is livicated to the six children who will die in the so-called "third-world in the time it takes to read it) Drip, drip, drip says the stand-pipe in the shanty town as the young mothers gather round plastic containers on the ground listening to the drip, drip, drip of life ebbing away the riverbeds have all dried up the wells are mineshafts to the past the irrigation channels of their ******* are polluted now by the Cuckoo's Nest the powdered-milk...the dust-bowl fields the quotas met......the land reveals the hand that rocks this cradle is the one who lays the table with "third-world" debt their able to rob and **** and disable as the dehydrated bodies blow away like ashes the multi-national faschists........ with vampire banks decashes the breast-milk of the masses witha ****** drip, drip, drip from the ******* of the mothers the corporations smother.... the babies in their sleep the cuckoo comes as a thief with a free sample and a brief case full of deceipt............ may I make a suggestion? "ASK SOME QUESTIONS" As you eat your chocolate and drink your coffee and smear ice-cream on your lovers body and NESTLE down to the land of noddy to dream of countless trucks and lorries ferrying the cow-juice and the slurry burning the forests in such a hurry more cattle and cash and burn and $lash leaves a gaping **** in the dried-up flesh of Mother Earth and 4000 babies every year yes 4000 babies every year return to the DUST.... BOWL..............BREAKFAST BOWL CEREAL BOWL..........SERIAL KRIME CORN and MILK spells CORPORATE CRIME dished up for your childrens belly in front of telly-tubby tellies Chocolate bars and candy treats robbed from the swollen teats of mutated udders whilst the cow's baby brothers are herded into crates and served on rich mens plates the mothers stand and wait and listen to the rate of the DRIP DRIP DRIP of spilt milk down the drain the governments explain and bury their shame under mountains of grain and excess champagne and if you BEG you get Easter eggs instead served up by the "head" whose saviour bled with a steady DRIP DRIP DRIP and I scream and jelly and biscuits and cakes make bovine mistakes and cheesy diseases from the milk that turns sour reminds us every hour of this KATTLE KULTURE HERESY of babies dying constantly with a DRIP DRIP DRIP
0
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019 at 11:57 AM UTC
DRIP DRIP DRIP
( this work is livicated to the six children who will die in the so-called "third-world in the time it takes to read it) Drip, drip, drip says the stand-pipe in the shanty town as the young mothers gather round plastic containers on the ground listening to the drip, drip, drip of life ebbing away the riverbeds have all dried up the wells are mineshafts to the past the irrigation channels of their ******* are polluted now by the Cuckoo's Nest the powdered-milk...the dust-bowl fields the quotas met......the land reveals the hand that rocks this cradle is the one who lays the table with "third-world" debt their able to rob and **** and disable as the dehydrated bodies blow away like ashes the multi-national faschists........ with vampire banks decashes the breast-milk of the masses witha ****** drip, drip, drip from the ******* of the mothers the corporations smother.... the babies in their sleep the cuckoo comes as a thief with a free sample and a brief case full of deceipt............ may I make a suggestion? "ASK SOME QUESTIONS" As you eat your chocolate and drink your coffee and smear ice-cream on your lovers body and NESTLE down to the land of noddy to dream of countless trucks and lorries ferrying the cow-juice and the slurry burning the forests in such a hurry more cattle and cash and burn and $lash leaves a gaping **** in the dried-up flesh of Mother Earth and 4000 babies every year yes 4000 babies every year return to the DUST.... BOWL..............BREAKFAST BOWL CEREAL BOWL..........SERIAL KRIME CORN and MILK spells CORPORATE CRIME dished up for your childrens belly in front of telly-tubby tellies Chocolate bars and candy treats robbed from the swollen teats of mutated udders whilst the cow's baby brothers are herded into crates and served on rich mens plates the mothers stand and wait and listen to the rate of the DRIP DRIP DRIP of spilt milk down the drain the governments explain and bury their shame under mountains of grain and excess champagne and if you BEG you get Easter eggs instead served up by the "head" whose saviour bled with a steady DRIP DRIP DRIP and I scream and jelly and biscuits and cakes make bovine mistakes and cheesy diseases from the milk that turns sour reminds us every hour of this KATTLE KULTURE HERESY of babies dying constantly with a DRIP DRIP DRIP
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just moments ago, i went online and tapped Google if some miraculous spell could be drawn out of thin air cause (this house husband feels a bit embarrassed to divulge), but at present, the will to live aye cannot bear cuz after an ample lather of soap and shampoo, ah pronounced heady effect became immediately clear where times gone by (even as late as early January tooth how sand and eighteen), the strands clumped, glommed, and matted together as sieve ma noggin got sat upon by a deer no matter after shaking head banging fashion (imagine rock stars of yore whipping their wild locks) from ear to e'er butta noah such dizzy inducing antics resulted in absolutely no fluffiness, hence my worse fear (irrational?) yes, an obsession i.e. thy hirsute outgrowth fixation dated back tummy boyhood when cranky gear and defective cogs somehow impacted preoccupation concerning every singular follicle fostering hair strand, but during prepubescence, this now grown man took a fancy to this, that, or the other lad, who sported a style envied yours truly, hie wished said thatch tubby upon mine ma lil oblate spheroid, and pleaded (weathered and in vane) with fate to make magically ap pear this, tis minuscule wiggle room to muster support from rear guard, hook offer me wiggle room asthma body electric goes on a manic tear precious seconds ticking closer to the final count down where this mwm might remain bed ridden for an entire year.
0
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 1:04 AM UTC
Argh! I suffer the plight of Bad Hair Year In One Day!
Though reading horror stories (macabre), an only every now and again genre crazy wave washing over me like a killer tsunami, (subsequently fueling desperation) to save thine scrawny **** (a derriere laughing stock, and hence cheeky of me to rave), those rare occasions satiated, when hung over insomnia heavily bulging, rheumy myopic blood shot eyes nonetheless lock into critical opening sentence determining, whether adroit kingly author nimbly setting the stage and pave ving what thenceforth, pro misses tubby a cell out ace in the hole captive audience (me, this apt pupil), doth brace himself (by all counts once a bad little kid) deserving, well...now... just a bag of bones, who fiendishly cackles when leaning in (Sheryl Sandberg like), whereat after opening sentence, an instantaneous possessive gnarly hand forcibly grabs my attention presaging and frightening yours truly (juiced in case ye did not know), where within the bazaar of bad dreams epic, which seems like forever, when I finally erase and exorcise the bogeyman who, masterfully, immediately, dramatically got woven lady chattery teeth and all withering wicked warp and woof establishing (proof positive), an excellently crafted Chiral Mad heavily shades of night are falling gussying haunting place, where the color of evil permeates every cerebral space with darkness, said sub rosa prime evil punctuates the mind this dream catcher, whence after four past midnight the reaper's image appears sending adrenaline rush, viz flight or fight blind did, when firestarter alarm didst grind passage of time manifesting dark forces blaze zing atavistic fear itself lined up battleground formation from the borderlands of my mind this even before turning the first page where the eyes of drag'n my afterlife shined!
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Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 4:23 PM UTC
Cut To The Chase...And Tan Hat Man!
Though reading horror stories (macabre), an only every now and again genre crazy wave washing over me like a killer tsunami, (subsequently fueling desperation) to save thine scrawny **** (a derriere laughing stock, and hence cheeky of me to rave), those rare occasions satiated, when hung over insomnia heavily bulging, rheumy myopic blood shot eyes nonetheless lock into critical opening sentence determining, whether adroit kingly author nimbly setting the stage and pave ving what thenceforth, pro misses tubby a cell out ace in the hole captive audience (me, this apt pupil), doth brace himself (by all counts once a bad little kid) deserving, well...now... just a bag of bones, who fiendishly cackles when leaning in (Sheryl Sandberg like), whereat after opening sentence, an instantaneous possessive gnarly hand forcibly grabs my attention presaging and frightening yours truly (juiced in case ye did not know), where within the bazaar of bad dreams epic, which seems like forever, when I finally erase and exorcise the bogeyman who, masterfully, immediately, dramatically got woven lady chattery teeth and all withering wicked warp and woof establishing (proof positive), an excellently crafted Chiral Mad heavily shades of night are falling gussying haunting place, where the color of evil permeates every cerebral space with darkness, said sub rosa prime evil punctuates the mind this dream catcher, whence after four past midnight the reaper's image appears sending adrenaline rush, viz flight or fight blind did, when firestarter alarm didst grind passage of time manifesting dark forces blaze zing atavistic fear itself lined up battleground formation from the borderlands of my mind this even before turning the first page where the eyes of drag'n my afterlife shined!
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I'm Blue I'm a mental nurse well I'm not mental I'm a nurse who deals with mental patients and this is one of the female wards (no male and females together for obvious reasons) o yes they would take my word for it and no male nurses on the female wards for reasons in case you never know and anyway it's best believe me mind you I do go to the male wards sometimes but that is different well I am anyway but this is Moon Ward and that is Angel don't be deceived she may look like an angel but she drowned her two twins daughters in the bath and her husband was away on business and that was that and she said they were demons and she was doing God's work and then of course she went and strangled one of the nurses here and so we don't go in alone to talk with her and she can talk   and sometimes she's as lucid as day and other times she's not and rambles on about not seeing her husband who is sometimes a famous dancer and sometimes he's the brother of Al Capone and once he was the male nurse on Star Ward who she'd seen in the grounds one sunny day and never be deceived by her she can appear quite the darling and sweet but she can do things to make you have nightmares you see that thin woman over by the radiator well she's had her in the female bogs a few times only last week she was trying to have it away with her poor girl now stand here a minute and watch her no not too close that's right now watch her o yes she always wears her dresses up high sometimes it's barely an inch from her knickers and sometimes she don't wear them that's why there's no male nurses or she'd have them as quick as lightening see her? she's ********* at you I think she likes you just stand steady try and ignore her in a nice way there see she's turned her attention to the tubby girl that girl's called Princess on account of her thinking she's a princess and does her waving hand stuff and wants you to curtsy but look at Angel see she's moving to her now no don't panic they're ok see how Angel works? She's a smart one calm as you come she had her in bed one morning when we came around hugging her she was the night nurse must have been asleep or something or she didn't care or didn't want the hassle of getting Princess out of the bed or Angel would go off her trolley now watch her Angel can be a real dear see how she's holding her putting her hand around the Princess's waist o yes she does that too no no Angel not here not now no no dear.
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Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 2:56 AM UTC
NO NO DEAR 1976
I'm Blue I'm a mental nurse well I'm not mental I'm a nurse who deals with mental patients and this is one of the female wards (no male and females together for obvious reasons) o yes they would take my word for it and no male nurses on the female wards for reasons in case you never know and anyway it's best believe me mind you I do go to the male wards sometimes but that is different well I am anyway but this is Moon Ward and that is Angel don't be deceived she may look like an angel but she drowned her two twins daughters in the bath and her husband was away on business and that was that and she said they were demons and she was doing God's work and then of course she went and strangled one of the nurses here and so we don't go in alone to talk with her and she can talk   and sometimes she's as lucid as day and other times she's not and rambles on about not seeing her husband who is sometimes a famous dancer and sometimes he's the brother of Al Capone and once he was the male nurse on Star Ward who she'd seen in the grounds one sunny day and never be deceived by her she can appear quite the darling and sweet but she can do things to make you have nightmares you see that thin woman over by the radiator well she's had her in the female bogs a few times only last week she was trying to have it away with her poor girl now stand here a minute and watch her no not too close that's right now watch her o yes she always wears her dresses up high sometimes it's barely an inch from her knickers and sometimes she don't wear them that's why there's no male nurses or she'd have them as quick as lightening see her? she's ********* at you I think she likes you just stand steady try and ignore her in a nice way there see she's turned her attention to the tubby girl that girl's called Princess on account of her thinking she's a princess and does her waving hand stuff and wants you to curtsy but look at Angel see she's moving to her now no don't panic they're ok see how Angel works? She's a smart one calm as you come she had her in bed one morning when we came around hugging her she was the night nurse must have been asleep or something or she didn't care or didn't want the hassle of getting Princess out of the bed or Angel would go off her trolley now watch her Angel can be a real dear see how she's holding her putting her hand around the Princess's waist o yes she does that too no no Angel not here not now no no dear.
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I stood next to Jeanette on the sports field it was sports day and she was in her gym skirt and top and I was in black sports shorts and a white shirt what are you in? I asked   she looked at me 100yards run and a relay she said quietly are you any good? I asked I can run ok her friend Angela next to her a blonde haired girl said she's fast is she now? I said yes Angela said she'll get us house points that's for sure what are you in then? Jeanette asked I’m down for the 100 yards that's all and that was a mistake as I didn't mean to run as fast in the trials but the other kids were so slow she nodded her head and said but at least you'll get your house some points I couldn't careless about house points I said she looked away a race was about to start girls were lined up at the lower end it's being apart of a team Jeanette said doing one's best if I was in your house I'd run every race I said but you're not she said no that's why I don't give a **** the girls were off down the track a lean tall girl was ahead of them a lone tubby girl brought up the rear there was cheering ons and shouts of COME ON RUN RUN from the crowds I looked at Jeanette beside me she was calling out softly moving her hands she was thin and her legs were long but more shapely than I’d thought she looked along the other end where the lean girl came in first come on Angela said and taking Jeanette by the hand they ran down to the line for the next race I watched them go the girl Angela dumpy and blonde and Jeanette thin and tall with a lovely sway which I thought capturing it in my mind with my camera eye would stay with me all day.
0
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
SPORTS DAY 1962.
I stood next to Jeanette on the sports field it was sports day and she was in her gym skirt and top and I was in black sports shorts and a white shirt what are you in? I asked   she looked at me 100yards run and a relay she said quietly are you any good? I asked I can run ok her friend Angela next to her a blonde haired girl said she's fast is she now? I said yes Angela said she'll get us house points that's for sure what are you in then? Jeanette asked I’m down for the 100 yards that's all and that was a mistake as I didn't mean to run as fast in the trials but the other kids were so slow she nodded her head and said but at least you'll get your house some points I couldn't careless about house points I said she looked away a race was about to start girls were lined up at the lower end it's being apart of a team Jeanette said doing one's best if I was in your house I'd run every race I said but you're not she said no that's why I don't give a **** the girls were off down the track a lean tall girl was ahead of them a lone tubby girl brought up the rear there was cheering ons and shouts of COME ON RUN RUN from the crowds I looked at Jeanette beside me she was calling out softly moving her hands she was thin and her legs were long but more shapely than I’d thought she looked along the other end where the lean girl came in first come on Angela said and taking Jeanette by the hand they ran down to the line for the next race I watched them go the girl Angela dumpy and blonde and Jeanette thin and tall with a lovely sway which I thought capturing it in my mind with my camera eye would stay with me all day.
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Upon (die) re rhea ding previous poem All In The Name Of "Progress" zen a glaring, leering, and twittering left par wren dared to a right (i.e. bribe) corrective punctuation measure slyly slipping Special Ops symbol ")" for so many yen, thus see slipped thru my excellent proof reading, when lo and behold consternation, inconsideration, and perturbation I thought to take a page from playbook of Sylvia Plath, and stick my head in the oven but lo, a sardine recipe (though a bit fishy), could be found necessitating cauldron only available for purchase in Turin thus donned with a shrouded cape, aye didst make whoosh, hence, went there and came back and frankly tubby earnest, thence began stir'n a bubbling concoction brew though duration for perfect consistency aye lacked any clue thus, needed to contact Hannibal the cannibal asper what to do in order (I explained) to sever livingsocial, and forever hang my head in shame cuz, accidentally omitting one right parenthesis too few hence, esteemed flawless glory, (sans error free grammarian reputation pitched downward where careless evinced Kamikaze nosedive, where matter of fact gross humiliation instantaneously grew and the only viable option forced me to hew admitting to egregious, fatuous, abhorent and readily confesses compunction viz, grievously blatant Anglo Saxon Horrifying transgression involving backward curved "C" sin bent a most execrable, incorrigible, and unforgivable literary faux pas incurring major cosmic event stripped of title special Das Scribe double bubble "A" gent! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Upon complying never to err again Matthew Scott Harris since accepted plea bargain accepting sentence resting his chin til indelible necklaced "U" lettered grin forever visible to kith and kin.
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Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC
Argh! An Errant Stray Left Parenthesis!
Upon (die) re rhea ding previous poem All In The Name Of "Progress" zen a glaring, leering, and twittering left par wren dared to a right (i.e. bribe) corrective punctuation measure slyly slipping Special Ops symbol ")" for so many yen, thus see slipped thru my excellent proof reading, when lo and behold consternation, inconsideration, and perturbation I thought to take a page from playbook of Sylvia Plath, and stick my head in the oven but lo, a sardine recipe (though a bit fishy), could be found necessitating cauldron only available for purchase in Turin thus donned with a shrouded cape, aye didst make whoosh, hence, went there and came back and frankly tubby earnest, thence began stir'n a bubbling concoction brew though duration for perfect consistency aye lacked any clue thus, needed to contact Hannibal the cannibal asper what to do in order (I explained) to sever livingsocial, and forever hang my head in shame cuz, accidentally omitting one right parenthesis too few hence, esteemed flawless glory, (sans error free grammarian reputation pitched downward where careless evinced Kamikaze nosedive, where matter of fact gross humiliation instantaneously grew and the only viable option forced me to hew admitting to egregious, fatuous, abhorent and readily confesses compunction viz, grievously blatant Anglo Saxon Horrifying transgression involving backward curved "C" sin bent a most execrable, incorrigible, and unforgivable literary faux pas incurring major cosmic event stripped of title special Das Scribe double bubble "A" gent! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Upon complying never to err again Matthew Scott Harris since accepted plea bargain accepting sentence resting his chin til indelible necklaced "U" lettered grin forever visible to kith and kin.
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63
(actually, now at present time juiced well nigh high noon same day) On this January nineteenth tooth thousand and nineteen dogged by an earlier notion searching soul to glean, (while at Collegeville Diner) above place previously wrought poem hammered from this peon expounded possibly seen, asper belated birthday outing now I mean to expound upon nagging , yet keen existential question, sans what purpose validates yours truly within skien of terrestrial webbed wide world, no...no...no not simply pocketing green backs (banknotes, legal, tender, money, et cetera), but now bean older, and displeasing lee not so lean when just a slip (pre) youth decades ago yea, that would be when I hapt tubby a teen with nary a concern, nope not even to preen myself much to the dismay of my late mother, nay no idea why lackadaisical, illogical, and antithetical bee hay vee yore prevailed, but more to the point rarely when young and naive did stray thoughts besiege my mind, that LX vintage sketchy, shady, and seedy gray area bothered concerning, hounding, pestering and fill lay mignon noggin ready toboggan any price you say for this staged coached blarney finding this mortal questioning... ray zing meaning, purpose, and underlying importance, gestalt, design... of life more so today meaning since recent past also taking stock of accomplishments from way back, and feeling stymied okay at a loss to delineate any rhyme or reason to shout hip...hip hooray quite the contrary, which following admission might appear cray zee, but aye decry barely living capped off with oy vey!
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Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 11:55 AM UTC
Wide Awake At Two Plus Hours After Midnight...
(actually, now at present time juiced well nigh high noon same day) On this January nineteenth tooth thousand and nineteen dogged by an earlier notion searching soul to glean, (while at Collegeville Diner) above place previously wrought poem hammered from this peon expounded possibly seen, asper belated birthday outing now I mean to expound upon nagging , yet keen existential question, sans what purpose validates yours truly within skien of terrestrial webbed wide world, no...no...no not simply pocketing green backs (banknotes, legal, tender, money, et cetera), but now bean older, and displeasing lee not so lean when just a slip (pre) youth decades ago yea, that would be when I hapt tubby a teen with nary a concern, nope not even to preen myself much to the dismay of my late mother, nay no idea why lackadaisical, illogical, and antithetical bee hay vee yore prevailed, but more to the point rarely when young and naive did stray thoughts besiege my mind, that LX vintage sketchy, shady, and seedy gray area bothered concerning, hounding, pestering and fill lay mignon noggin ready toboggan any price you say for this staged coached blarney finding this mortal questioning... ray zing meaning, purpose, and underlying importance, gestalt, design... of life more so today meaning since recent past also taking stock of accomplishments from way back, and feeling stymied okay at a loss to delineate any rhyme or reason to shout hip...hip hooray quite the contrary, which following admission might appear cray zee, but aye decry barely living capped off with oy vey!
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55
Twas accursed destiny since birth alack nascent emasculation abominable barrack emergent deus ex machina, viz zit ting older sibling counterattack thirteen plus chronological gap eldest sister struck like diamondback surrogate "mother" role assumed tubby exact protectorate pseudo fullback against cruel beastie boys bullying barbs comeuppance giveback pummeling spongiform gray matter (yours truly) fisticuffs she didst highjack proxy mothering kept corporeal essence intact jilting nefarious nemesis aligned (maligning) and stalking, this fee-fi-fo-fum ordinary bean sized Jack are runt (arrant) cowardly (non lion) nerdy lad owning a knack courage lack this glum older married chap doth adumbrate satisfactory accomplishments lack king, where crazy quilt aimless wandering described purposeless multitrack thus, sympathetic to hue men/women nonblack or decimated aborigines once populating Australian outback existential nihilism would, undergirding hypothetical unwritten paperback with little need to prevaricate, nor appear as quack *** one measly **** sapiens, who accrued millennial palimpsest zeitgeist where, punctured disequilibreated psyche dust rack asper protean (in utero) multitudinous setback soundlessly resonating with concussive thwack as this rickety ship of state (a haunted junk ket) unwanted emotional ballast to unpack asseveration, asper assiduously preferably welcoming dry suction no vac jar this pawn (knight wannabe in his bishop rick) torrid me psychological wrack king within (castle keep) complex edifice shackled in dungeon with repast constituting.
0
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
Mine Gerund Tilling Illogical Weltanschauung
Twas accursed destiny since birth alack nascent emasculation abominable barrack emergent deus ex machina, viz zit ting older sibling counterattack thirteen plus chronological gap eldest sister struck like diamondback surrogate "mother" role assumed tubby exact protectorate pseudo fullback against cruel beastie boys bullying barbs comeuppance giveback pummeling spongiform gray matter (yours truly) fisticuffs she didst highjack proxy mothering kept corporeal essence intact jilting nefarious nemesis aligned (maligning) and stalking, this fee-fi-fo-fum ordinary bean sized Jack are runt (arrant) cowardly (non lion) nerdy lad owning a knack courage lack this glum older married chap doth adumbrate satisfactory accomplishments lack king, where crazy quilt aimless wandering described purposeless multitrack thus, sympathetic to hue men/women nonblack or decimated aborigines once populating Australian outback existential nihilism would, undergirding hypothetical unwritten paperback with little need to prevaricate, nor appear as quack *** one measly **** sapiens, who accrued millennial palimpsest zeitgeist where, punctured disequilibreated psyche dust rack asper protean (in utero) multitudinous setback soundlessly resonating with concussive thwack as this rickety ship of state (a haunted junk ket) unwanted emotional ballast to unpack asseveration, asper assiduously preferably welcoming dry suction no vac jar this pawn (knight wannabe in his bishop rick) torrid me psychological wrack king within (castle keep) complex edifice shackled in dungeon with repast constituting.
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