Tuesday, June 16, 2009


When he touched the water it turned into thick, creamy Campbell's Chicken soup.
And then Jesus said that he totally smashed her box.
I said that I didn't believe him.
He then ruined my dog's box.
I believed him then.


So, I see you have yourself some 2B pencils there.
Good for your joints they are.
Once you turn sixty seven you will be please you inserted them there.


She took off one sock.
Her right one one the left foot.
Brand: Nike.
I was impressed.
No holes.
More impressed.
She said she would be right back.
She crawled on her stomach to the mailbox.
I couldn't believe it.
She put her sick in there.
How would she eat dinner now with only one sock?
How would her taste buds cope?
They didn't.
her face melted and she became very timid.
Frigid bitch.


Three pens in my pocket.
I took one out.
Not the feeling.
Just the colour.
Dirty pen.
I threw it away.
I decided to sit in a large bucket.


And around.
Thirteen times in total.
Pervert man is dizzy.
His glasses are fogged.
He gets off the merry go round.
Pervert kid comes over.
They laugh at each other.
They exchange bodily fluids.
Perverted pleasure.


Four female pro wrestlers.
I sit and watch.
They are making toast.
Brown bread. Whole grain.
They all like jam and butter apparently.
But not Torpedo Jan.
Her look of disgust s very visible.
To me anyway.
Torpedo Jan doesn't even like toast.
Poor Jan.
We could be friends Jan.
I don't like toast that much either.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009


Hey, bald man.
Those really smooth parts look good to touch.
Finding it hard to control oneself.
Hard like a pedophile at a Wiggle's concert.
What would Jesus do?
Are you sure that is what he would do?

Monday, May 11, 2009


Does anybody have a grip?
Apparently it helps to have one.
What qualities does this grip evoke in you?
Consider shoe size in relation to the brand of cereal you eat.
What thoughts and feelings can you summon from your face?
Do you want my grip?
I don't need it.
I don't even eat cereal or wear shoes.


The sweat rolls off your brow.
Your brow is black.
Not blond like it used to be.
Blond is when you found your sister's capsicum tree in your wardrobe.
You didn't know that capsicums grew on trees.
You confronted her and asked if if was hers.
She confessed and told you that she was actually a he but now a she again.
You didn't understand but nodded anyway.
Both of you took a capsicum.
Hers was rotting but not rotten.
You hate capsicums.
The world is in a recession so you saved it for later.


Let me breath on your sweet tentacle face.
It is yuck.
I would like to put it in a white plastic bag.
Take it home.
Feed it to my children.
If I had some.
If I had some?
Let's have some.