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Nat Lipstadt Jun 2018
Songs of Oregon: No 5 no general impressions specifically

For the Poets of Oregon, each a unique travel guide

no salt n’ pepper shaker of general impressions for the offering,
for now, ubiquitous generalities means inclusionary which means
likely accidental to be exclusionary,
so specifically,
no ‘all in' clauses

just a few specific eye-sights, hoary words, new birth canals,
to be either eaten, resurrected, van-slaughtered, backyard buried,
all are filed nearby in the seed cabinet or the garage freezer,
or on the C drive of your brain

awaiting ideal planting conditions, and the rest,
a series perhaps,
Songs of Oregon?
Someday

someday, when all the big brief poems are fully formed,
earth ripened, mind fomented; oak barrel aged,
harvest-reading-ready,
green trees shoots busting thrusting through
misleading sandy looking soil,
needy for quenching from
aquifers that are gold geyser plentiful,
a hundred feet deep, needy only for a
“please sir, may I have some more,"
they’l be writ

but for now, these below are,
some easy to be specifics,
reveling and revealed, useful takeaways,
specifics pacifics
for those who might be traversing upon
Lewis and Clark’s Oregon Trail:

them multicolored redneck
full bearded boys
and those of the
vinnie, millennial hipsters and aging ex- hippies, also,
full bearded boys  
are indistinguishable!
many of both wear matching bib jeans,
so be careful who you be calling
a hillbilly in open carry country

the forever refilled coffee mug still exists though the price
is now $2 but the coffee is sustainable (I am evidence)
organic, from a rain forest from Timbuktu,
so it gets planted in your bloodstream and then replaced
in the soil & land,
the loam of the soul
by you

in Milwaukee,
they know how to spell Milwaukee but
not in Portland

don’t be shocked at the town naming,
these borrowers got no  i-magination,
that’s surly lacking in Oregon; mthey’ll steal your
Nor’easter or Indian
town or city’s name
with no shame
or comp-unction,
claiming it’s different cause
they made it organically and
then misspelled it,
correctly

think that pointy poem point well made,
god made only one coast (theirs) and
just forgot to put Shelter Island NY  upon it;
threw it up randomly skyward, landed on some
atlantic backwater body

getting there or anywhere in Oregon traffic
about the same as in NYC traffic, thus
the heavens balance the scales of justice with
dramatic automotive irony

in some counties, the school week is a
four day affair, for the children need to repay
their parents birthing labor, by laboring beside them
in the vineyards, on the tractors, learning from
the book and look of their parents
sun aged faces and hands,
life learning
that man must earn his sustenance
with the sweat of ones own brow
and that word;
week,
can be spelt in contradictory ways
but only one is acceptable
out here

do be careful though Oregonians are very willingly to lam it,
(Willamette) if you ask nicely,
pick up normal looking weird hitchhikers
and drive many a mile
in yours, not theirs, but sure,
“going-the-same-way direction”
if you ask polite with just a smile

and the river salmon have hired their own governmental advisors


like I said,
no general impressions
just a private’s brief recollections
from his first tour of duty
abroad
where he was purple heart medaled shot
through ‘n through with
Oregon kindness

some juicy real specifics to follow eventually
someday
songs of oregon No.5
Poetoftheway Aug 2017
"the ever shifting light of ourselves"
(a poem such as this)

For Jamadhi V.

<•>
8/28/17

at 11:09am,
the phrase arrests itself, then assertive,
ungently demanding fulfillment,
implanted, it cares not my whereabouts,
it is a child~phrase, inexact, mysterious,
wanting its breast milk feeding immediate
no matter where my presence visible

but to me, it stinks of familiarity,
for my shifts, my redrawn shapes,
exhausting, giving me cause to grieve,
write poems such as this,
which I regret both
before~after conception~completion,
written in a fevered misery of fervor,
hoping,
no one ever likes it and its witnessing

as light ever shifts,
it consumes, extinguishes, reignites,
poorly lit, revealing dregs and dustbins

better then to sit in the darkness
the one you call,
getting it over with...

6:00pm
<•>

~~~~~~~~

*the swelling and the spume


for Lucy:

who gave me the title, three poems, a compliment, and the X Factor {inspiration}
~~~
the spume, the sea foam concentrate,
a greener white
by the the salt and the souls of the
million dead organisms,
that are are the compost of its formation,
it, watches the poet, who watches the spume,
come ashore for its final act of
immolation by evaporation

which is why the random act of
an unseen ministering force,
fills my ears with humbling glory of
Samuel Barber's Agnus Dei,^
my fresh reminder that this swelling chest
in this temporary abode of mine,
by the sea, passage is prepaid for my
expiration by evaporation too,
all lambs march to the sea,
returning to spume
~
Lyrics to Agnus Dei:
^ Alleluia Alleluia
For our Lord God Almighty reigns
Alleluia Alleluia
For our Load God Almighty reigns
Alleluia
Holy Holy
Are You Lord God Almighty
Worthy is the Lamb
Worthy is the Lamb
You are Holy
Holy
Are You Lord God Almighty
Worthy is the Lamb
Worthy is the Lamb
Amen

~~~~~~

"may all my lost lovers haunt me"

for Vinnie Brown

even your kindergarten crushes?

what burdens you seek to retain,
the edgy border of delicious and pain is a raggedy cut line,
as lost lovings rhymes with duality

Once upon a time,
a middle aged man
left the woman he married,
the one who drained and cruel reigned
over the destruction of his-dreams
for one accidentally stumbled into,
the love who blurred his edges as well,
between forgotten happiness and
pain so bad when she grew tired
of his life's complications and the
valises of drama,
she left him,
weeping on the corner of Broadway and 83rd Street

was that 20, 30 years ago?
a memory
from no matters land
but
the physical ache that marred the hearth in the chest for months and months,
sent him to the doc who smiled sweetly
but gave him, had no, no relief for busted grownup hearts
that had normal  EKG's

and that remains a treasured affirmation to this day of
life's capacity to love that comes with an ingrown danger
of never forgetting

did you know the French outlawed the use of the term
Mademoiselle in '12 (Mlle.)?

I loved that salutation,
calling my one true lovers
with the soft feminism of that address

and still do

and you want to recall
kindergarten crushes?

Mister Vinnie
possesses a lovely contradiction,
holding onto
lost lover sickness
that lives on in good love poems

this my new found poet
is how that he, this aching heart,
fast approaching his shore line for one last return and final departure
repays a sweet compliment,
from one who complements
another man's lovely's insane desire to
never forget any of it

~~~~~~*

reading love poetry and listening to
Joni M.,
at 3:09AM
never wise,
but always full of hindsight
Simon Woodstock Mar 2018
Slowly I awaken
I am hanging upside down in the center of a room
the floor and surrounding furniture is covered in plastic
karma catches us all
I was on my way to Vegas to start over
to fund my life change I started robbing mob safe houses along the way figured i'd be a new man before they caught me
I was wrong
The drugs wear off and I feel every blow all at once and pains ignites like a 4th of July ceremony all over making me cringe and yell out in agony
Just like that my screams of pain usher in this 6'8 Russian guy with a baseball bat
"no one can hear you" says the russian
"*******!' I scream defiantly
he walks over with the bat he hand lines up his swing and like barry bonds on a good day I feel that Louisville slugger shatter my ribs more then they already were sending me weeping in pain holding blood in my mouth
"no one is gonna come save you either gingerbread man"
his phone rings and his smile disappears he vanishes to the other room leaving me to my agony so close yet so far away
I was almost free
The Russian wall returns a few minutes later with the last face I could hope to see Vincent cauldron his friends called him Vinnie
His enemies usually didn't live long enough to call him anything
he came directly to me
"nothing personal kid you just ****** up" he said coldly
he pulls out a pistol and hits me in the temple with it
after he orders the Russian to cut me down I collapse on the floor and feel my insides fall apart while blood leaks from my face
"let me go" I yell with the last of my strength
"afraid not bud you stole too much to be forgiven"
Vinnie continues "but if you like i'll try to not enjoy it as much as the last time I had to do this" I feel all the hope leave my soul and I begin to accept my fate
This is it  the end of the show
I begin to turn cold and daze off only to reawaken to the sound of a buzz saw at once I begin screaming with everything I had left
My voice was wasted no one was around to save me and I was about to die shortly
before I can finish my thought I feel a butcher knife skate across my throat with ease
I stop screaming
I collapse back on the ground and let myself bleed out vinnie and the Russian set fire to the room and leave me to die alone
"maybe in the next life you won't be such a **** up" Vinnie tells me before he leaves
As the fire gets closer and my blood soaks the plastic I think about every path not taken and the lovers you left behind
Nothing Matters
In my last moments I smile because **** it
who wants to live forever
FIN
I literally just let my mind wander and this was the result
Rational Madman Dec 2018
Who the hell you think are to be demanding me a poem?
Mozart of this art like all these written no-gimmick lyrics are my profession,
Woah, that flow's a shard piercin' you and while you're bleedin', I tell you a fine confession:
This is freedom of expression, this is me out of depression, physics is nowhere near a suggestion for reason behind the never-yet-reached depths of my perception.

Boy you be readin' these ill lines by a writer so sublime, you couldn't fathom or imagine what it's like to be behind the steerin' wheel of the high-paced drive up in my mind,
All these spitting free-verse like that's skilled, yeah sure but they're nowhere close to flowin' poems so potent it could blind,
You can play this like over to cope, you'll need to pause and rewind not one, two, three but at least four times.

This is be that sick spittin' raw ****, you aint heard on the radio,
This be that thick ****, masculinity half gentleman half wild-lion ROAR and make those ladies hoes,
This be the new age slim shady yo, basic rappers way too slow, Mumble rapping on a track and reading **** like BABY PRO,
Na **** that mainstream ****, dawg this be that underground vicious ****,
Boy I've been slitting throat downtown before rap ever was for the ***** *****,
I'm that middle-school rap era, where gangsters could mean black but also Vinnie Paz, shout-out to the most-feared real-deal Gladiator straight from that Sicily pit,
I love Paz for his delivery, flow and anti-gimmicky lyrical potency like no other G that'***** that'***** the scene,
I love Tech for the flow man, Em for the show and love Minaj for puns and Hopsin for being the pioneer or bringing REAL RAP back, he's a cunning industry player but **** HE GOT FLOW. Chris Webby for the raw masculinity-vibe progressive ****, spreading those vibes getting the world to hear his messages,
I love Bugzy and Devs and a little Wiley doesn't hurt,
Grime Scene's a beautiful off-shoot of rap that unlike mumble crap is an old beautiful tree that grew straight from the dirt,
Imma leave it here, let me on this site so your ***** can squirt,
If you're a guy you'll wish you were me but turnin' me down's buryin' what you know be that legit **** that like a Phoenix'll rebirth.
<3

Beat to the rap:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1F0kRAsIBs4
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2017
~for Vinnie Brown~


even your kindergarten crushes?

what burdens you seek to retain,
the edgy border of delicious and pain
is a raggedy cut line,
as lost lovings, rhymes with duality

Once upon a time,
a middle aged man
left the woman he married,
the one who drained and cruel reigned
over the destruction of his-dreams,
for one accidentally stumbled into,
the love who blurred his edges as well,
between forgotten happiness and
pain so awesome bad when she grew tired
of his life's complications,
she left him,
weeping on the corner of Broadway and 83rd Street

was that 20, 30 years ago?
a memory
from no matters land
but
the physical ache that marred the hearth in the chest for
months and months,
sent him to the doc who smiled sweetly
but gave him, had no, no relief for
busted grownup hearts
with normal EKG's

that remains a treasured affirmation to this day of
life's capacity to love that comes with
an ingrown danger
of never forgetting

did you know the French outlawed the use of the term
Mademoiselle in '12 (Mlle.)?

I loved that salutation,
calling my one true lovers
with the soft feminism of that address

and still do

and you want to recall
kindergarten crushes?

Mister Vinnie
possesses a lovely contradiction,
holding onto
lost lover sickness
that lives on in good love poems

this my new found poet,
is how that he, this aching heart,
fast approaching his shore line for one last return
and final departure
repays a sweet compliment,
from one who complements
anothe man's lovely's insane desire to
never forget any of it

~~~

reading Vinne Brown's poetry
https://hellopoetry.com/vinnie-brown/

and listening to Joni M.
at 3:09AM;
never wise,
but full of hindsight
jeremy wyatt Feb 2011
They came from the deep sky
with conquest in their eye
not content with the trees
they were here to squeeze
us
Drove us underground
put us in zoos
wailing and gnashing our only sound
hairy devils they ate Gary Neville..
tried to eat Vinnie Jones
He ate them, burped, and spat out all the bones
"Oi! monkey breath!" his battle cry
He rallied humanity he would not let us die...
Got riled up, called in his Hollywood pals
started kicking-*** and seducing gals
Rowdy Roddy Piper and Van-Damme
left those flying monkeys
looking like chewed ham
They released mankind from slavery
saving us from certain doom
The Fall of The Flying Monkeys
in a theatre near you soon.....
This title was a line in one of John Gonzos finest.......
SG Holter May 2017
She's had nose bleeds,
Stumach aches,
Dizzy spells and shortness of
Breath these last weeks or so,
And worry is a vampire attached
To my neck like the
Opposite of an IV; draining
Me, leaving me
With more than one of the
Same ailments.

At 38, I'm on six different kinds
Of daily medication. **** this
Stitched-up heart, with
Its moving
Parts of metal.
At 24, she doubles that.
Every piece of good news has a
...but... nailed to it like
Vinnie the Poo's friend Donkey's
Tail,

And I wish I was the healthy man
She deserves. One strong enough
To carry her bucket loads of
Tears, her chestfuls of well-
Earned bitterness. But I
Tapped out and went home
For the weekend. Recharging in
Countryside silence and solitude.
This is my docking station.
Superman and the sun.

*“In the unlikely event of a sudden
loss of cabin pressure, oxygen
masks will drop down from the
panel above your head. Secure
your own mask before helping
others.”
Vinnie Brown Jul 2017
In a lost amount of complexities
You're quite simple aren't you?
In a testament of strength
You fair boy, you seem to be my greatest adversary
Breathing in and out
Cause' rooms filled up with faces
And the air so thick we could taste it
Heavy heads always seem a racing
And somedays you can feel yourself erasing
Freedom in the high lows
Find some space and learn to let go
As a soul seems to be shifting higher
Bursting at the seems of good hope
Clashing like images of kaleidoscopes
That sounds like my life though
Rebecca Oct 2020
A microscopic pathogen's
epic odyssey,
started his quest
of comradery,
across many lands
beyond the seven seas.

Vincent the Virus
but you can call him Vinnie
holding luggage full of tricks,
with mutations of plenty.

On a cruise ship, he sailed
and planes he did fly;
freeloading his way,
from travelers passing by.

Ashes to ashes
and host to host.
A viral sensation
from coast to coast.

Becoming famous
virtually overnight,
collapsing economies,
tripping lymphocytes.
A project I'm working on for a children's book to educate kids on how a virus is spread and how to practice prevention of it spreading. The main character is Vincent. Vinnie only wears tailored suits and smokes Cuban cigars. He is a culture snob, he has a taste for the finer things in life and lives to travel. He is a risk to public health due to his inability to stay in one place. Enjoy!
Jill Tait Oct 2020
On Lily of the Valley land just beside the forget me nots there are three magic mushrooms, scarlet red with white stems and spots..and inside these white stems each with a crimson canopy, dwells Vinnie, Minnie and Winnie all are as skinny as can be..

Each run around amidst the darkness of the night, looking like lean runner beans such a frightful, funny sight..A trio of thorny stick insects, as green as fresh cut grass.. six snakey, slanty emerald eyes sparkle like slithers of glass..and they live nextdoor to one another without a sister or a brother, they are nocturnal little creatures created from the earth Mother..

Vinnie is vivacuous, she loves to dance and sing as hooty Owls joins in her chorus.. with the Pipistrelle Bats upon the wing..Minnie is the most mischievious of them all, this thin, frolicsome friend drives the other duo up the wall.. But betwixt and between Vinnie and Minnie lives the loveliest of the lot, her charismatic charm mixes in their melting ***..So these three green grassy hoppers live amongst the woodland copse, side by side in a magic mushroom with the bright red tops
Martin Bailes Feb 2017
It’s a riding of the golden enthroning chariot
around  the tumultuous roaring coliseum as of
ancient & fast declining Rome,  
all amidst a clamoring sea
of simple red-hatted whiteness,
as he absorbs, just soaks right on in,
that honest folks love.

All the while smiling
like Vinnie in a bar in Queens
chuckling over his latest conquest story,
as he shares weak Martini’s with his
drunken & besotted lieutenants.

His time to gloat & sneer at the weak & fallen,
the small boy’s big day out,
riding in papas fancy car  
while tossing out empty favors
& a smirking Royal glance at the limping
trembling, so victorious
hopeful rubes.

No, it’s not a thankyou tour,
it’s a Victory lap.
Stevie Ray Apr 2016
"Is happiness just a word?"*
- Vinnie Paz
Is Happiness Just A Word - Vinnie Paz

A beautifull song about him struggling with his depersonalization disorder.
mark john junor Apr 2014
the hallway painted green
sizzles in midsummer heat
i look down the descending stairs
to the sounds of her fighting with boyfriend vinnie
her loose shirt clings to her lean body
her hair a warm brown tangled in a ponytail
pieces of it cling to her sweat soaked skin
i reach down and gently run my hand along her cheek
she looks at me
then at my girlfriends closed door and she kisses me
i lean into her kiss with a lustful passion
we cling to one another in a moment of stolen loves
late that night she comes down the street
standing beneath my window calls my name
it sounds like beauty
it sounds like a gift
Thomas W Case May 2020
I slept beneath
a mad hatter moon and
dreamed of a big blue
tarantula swimming in
a yellow moss
covered pond. A rat
terrier passed me a note:
Mercy and love
are
fleeting, they fade away
like the
tangerine sun; they
are lies like
the dead bulls under
a ****** red
Spanish sky.
I asked his name,
"Mendacity" he said,
then turned into a
pack of
cigarettes, no matches,
no lighter…

I drank from the
pond and became a
sunflower.
Vincent shot
me with his
lonely cornfield gun.
He sat down and smoked
his pipe, as crows
lied
lied
lied.
He said with sad, iris eyes,
"It's impossible to ****
a mermaid, or eat
a starry night."
It's the impossibility
of a thing that
drives one
mad;
like a mustang
caught for the
circus, but always
dreaming of escape to
the thundering
fields of its youth.
I saw toothless
orphans throw rooks at
his soul, as those beautiful
eyes saw way too much…
I want to
pound
it in,
drive it dripping
home through the
core
of a rose, to the
bottom
of the tulip. I'll
get drunk on
nectar of the god's, then
reject immortality. (Who wants to live forever?)

There has been a drastic
Mistake.
I see it at the
zoo in the
monkeys caged,
glazed eyes.
No wonder they
throw ****
at people.
"Such lies, " he said.
"The artichoke, avocado, and
algebra; the small of
a woman's back and
the emerald head of
the hummingbird."
"If the artichoke and
avocado are lies" I said,
"then truth is the
tight, tasty, creamy
green line that
refuses to settle or waiver;
delirious, delicious."

"No" he said, as
his hands stroked
that lice ridden
crimson beard.
"It's conception and
growth, then cast
out
****** and naked
cut from the
cord,
and a lifetime spent
trying to return
to the womb, **** first,
but only spilling and
spreading the
nightmare of being,
the fever of living, to
another
sorry soul that didn't
ask for it.
I woke up,
drained the elixir,
and starred at
Vinnie's self portrait,
the one with
bandaged ear, and
I
thought…
Yea,
God is into practical jokes.
Vinnie Brown May 2017
In these thunderous storms
I just want to be brave
Scared to death, I'm not good enough
Would you love me if I was famous?
Would you love me if I was not?
Been stressing out, been havin' sleepless nights
All your past lovers haunt me
Now I have your love
The kind of love I never seemed to have
Did you truly see me waver before the world knew my name
Did you really love Vinnie before the fame?
I want that love that never seems to fade away
Vinnie Brown May 2019
"In the wake of the late night when you think I'm doing something, often times I'm staring out of my window at the world, coming up with ways that I could possibly defeat immortality."
                                  ~ Vinnie Brown
Vinnie Brown Apr 2018
The world called me Vinnie
You called me V
Ultimately I don't understand a thing
I try to do the best I can
I know you try to do the same
We're just so bound to make mistakes
You could call it a disposition
I apologize for all your tears
I wish I could be different
But I'm still growing up
Into the one you can call your love
I don't know if I'll ever be enough
I'm throwing in my chips
I guess I tend to push my luck
And ultimately I believe we'll be okay
It's so cliché to say these things, but repetition is a key
I think I'm better when I'm with you
But I worry when you're gone
I think I need to learn to love myself
I must learn to be strong
So for now we'll say goodbye
Although it pains me in my heart
Your words they come to me in memories
They sing to me like songs
It won't be long until I'm here
Soon I'll make my arrival
Under shady trees
A quiet street
The roads that I have traveled
Ultimately it's a beautiful thing
Like flowers blooming in a lonely field
The petals drift through crossing winds
They find their way to river streams
That scent the water beautifully, it takes me back to you
It takes me back to you
A little twist on a song
Qualyxian Quest Apr 2021
Last night she dreamt of San Pedro
Madonna at my teenage dances

Crazy for you it's true
And now the Argentine kind Pope Francis

Italians do it better
Jackie Graziano

Vinnie Testaverde
Her secrets. My te amo.

           Todd. Me llamo.
Qualyxian Quest Apr 2021
Vinnie Testaverde
Jesuit high school coach

I too have been to Tampa
La Florida I still approach

Salvador Dali Museum
Lincoln, John of the Cross

Of her I keep on thinkin'
Silence: win or loss?

              ambiguous
My foot swoll up more than it normally does when I'm bitten by a wild Lithuanian with influenza (if the germ theory's true, which it ain't). "Pass the Rolling Rock Beer because I'm ready for the return of Jesus!" I instructed the pope louder than is permissible in Naples. The pope turned and spat as if to ask: "Does a bear **** in the woods?" I was ready to commit a felony upon him when a vision of ****** Mary overtook me like a Honda overtakes a V.W. Passat. "Vincent, don't **** the pope," she said so I didn't. One day when you're sicker than 2 hungry dogs at the airport, I'll be there with my medical kit to cure you," the ****** added. "Thanks Mary, I'm glad you're a ******. It gives me & my **** sister hope for a brighter future, one of absolute virginity that's forever & eternal!" I proclaimed with a firmness that could choke a chicken that's 2 counties west of me. One day Vincent Van Gogh visited his friend Sally's house near Mona's house. Sally was so nice and she had perfect teeth that every dentist wanted to write important dental articles about but she wouldn't let them. "Drop dead!" She'd holler whenever a dentist started to write about her teeth. Sally also made extra money chewing food for toothless men who were malnourished and feared metal detectors. Vincent Van Gogh & Sally loved to share ****** intimacies with their best friend Mona who owned imported *** toys from Sweden. "Let's use one without ribs!" Sally would excitedly suggest. "Yes," Vincent Van Gogh agreed. "That one makes me dream of colder climates where polar bears and Eskimos live together in total harmony especially in Alaska. Vinnie gagged like a maggot as 350 pounds of solid lesbian woman tackled him in the ****. Her large ***** came down on him like bowling ***** from the skies as his testicles felt the force of her thunderous thighs. "Can't sell a painting you 1-eared hoser?!" She exclaimed just to rub it in. "I sold one last year!" He snapped back. "Last year my fragrant ***!" She retorted in a rough voice like Brenda Vaccaro when she was selling Kotex rags. "Just a minute here! I'm Vincent Van Gogh!" He protested. "Vincent Van Narrow Pecker!" She snapped back like a hoser from Denmark with pink-eye. Later, after she had her lesbian fun, a large ear surgeon arrived to sew it back on. "Now you look like a million bucks and you can **** regular women and sell paintings like crazy all day if you wanna," the surgeon mused while taking off his uniform to **** the **** for 2 hours straight without stopping, not even for a hamburger & fries with a medium Pepsi.
THE VINCENT VAN GOGH BLURRY-PAINT SHOW- My foot swoll up more than it normally does when I'm bitten by a wild Lithuanian with influenza (if the germ theory's true, which it ain't). "Pass the Rolling Rock Beer because I'm ready for the return of Jesus!" I instructed the pope louder than is permissible in Naples. The pope turned and spat as if to ask: "Does a bear **** in the woods?" I was ready to commit a felony upon him when a vision of ****** Mary overtook me like a Honda overtakes a V.W. Passat. "Vincent, don't **** the pope," she said so I didn't. One day when you're sicker than 2 hungry dogs at the airport, I'll be there with my medical kit to cure you," the ****** added. "Thanks Mary, I'm glad you're a ******. It gives me & my **** sister hope for a brighter future, one of absolute virginity that's forever & eternal!" I proclaimed with a firmness that could choke a chicken that's 2 counties west of me. One day Vincent Van Gogh visited his friend Sally's house near Mona's house. Sally was so nice and she had perfect teeth that every dentist wanted to write important dental articles about but she wouldn't let them. "Drop dead!" She'd holler whenever a dentist started to write about her teeth. Sally also made extra money chewing food for toothless men who were malnourished and feared metal detectors. Vincent Van Gogh & Sally loved to share ****** intimacies with their best friend Mona who owned imported *** toys from Sweden. "Let's use one without ribs!" Sally would excitedly suggest. "Yes," Vincent Van Gogh agreed. "That one makes me dream of colder climates where polar bears and Eskimos live together in total harmony especially in Alaska. Vinnie gagged like a maggot as 350 pounds of solid lesbian woman tackled him in the ****. Her large ***** came down on him like bowling ***** from the skies as his testicles felt the force of her thunderous thighs. "Can't sell a painting you 1-eared hoser?!" She exclaimed just to rub it in. "I sold one last year!" He snapped back. "Last year my fragrant ***!" She retorted in a rough voice like Brenda Vaccaro when she was selling Kotex rags. "Just a minute here! I'm Vincent Van Gogh!" He protested. "Vincent Van Narrow Pecker!" She snapped back like a hoser from Denmark with pink-eye. Later, after she had her lesbian fun, a large ear surgeon arrived to sew it back on. "Now you look like a million bucks and you can **** regular women and sell paintings like crazy all day if you wanna," the surgeon mused while taking off his uniform to **** the **** for 2 hours straight without stopping, not even for a hamburger & fries with a medium Pepsi.

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