the tangerine prison

yea I smoked it
yes it just
felt right

and after
everyday
for the rest
of my life

I know
that my daddy
was not
the dragon...

lil college girls
looking for the
em are ess

degree
but don't you
see

that lipstick
is
killing
you

Writer


Oh, lonely desk
you are
the bitch
of crumpled
irony
missing the
can
and obviously
the point

keyboard, sweet
clickity clack

i love my life,
hating the syndrome

Good Girls

It wasn't yours
it wasn't mine
but we fucked
on top of the
Escalade
blew a kiss
to lonliness
an everlasting
distant crawl
towards kosher
gestures
thumbs up
how do ya do?

We smoked your
cigarettes
your filthy
canadian fags
it's not the
first time
you've left
a bad taste
in my mouth

did you really
think i laid
your tupac's
greatest hits
your pseudo lisp
your black jeans
with white socks?

did you really think
i need to go
so far to find
home?

you set off
more than one
alarm tonight

i never came

antifellationism

you want me
to envelope
your groin
wrap my thick lips
around your thick
personage

i am not
your doll

No it is not
natural
sexual

an uncomfortable
rush
cloudy, moving out
of harms way

you wanted me
to...

No it is not
happening
tonight
ever

a silence
surrounds my
guiltlessness

I am not
your doll

this blog sux...so i'm just gonna post my poems so i can copy n paste em off of the web page...baad baad girl...:)

Munchies

i smoke a spliff
i eat a grape
a lonely grape
that neva woulda hadda
chance if i was
sober

i roll a doob
hold back the tears
you're never gonna a
go a breakin my heart
again

the ganja's me
I am the wind
that carries the smoke
across the room
into the door
the door i slammed
on you
THERES FUDGE IN THE FRIDGE

there's fudge in the fridge
it tap dances through my soul
you are the one
but not THE one
I drink the mellow yellow
and i take another hit

i stop to read a book
a book?
fuck the book
there's fudge in the fridge

who am i there?
what were we then?
i coulda cared
i never did...
so why do i now?

i get to the fridge
but why am i here?
why are we here?
why do all of my
cups
have
faces
?

i dont care
i don't care
i don't care

i'm tired
goodnight

In ancient England people could not have sex unless they had consent of the king (unless they were in the Royal Family ). When people wanted to have a baby, they had to get the consent of the king, and the king gave them a placard that they hung on their door while they were having sex.  The placard had F.U.C.K. (Fornication Under Consent of the King ) on it.  Hence that's where the word **** came from. Now, aren't you glad you learned something new today ?


interesting....very very interesting...we should have to get one of those signs from the pope every time we wanna blow someone...i mean how else is the guy gonna get his daily kinky sex jollies...??

alrighty, well i'm in a relationship with a guy now...so i suppose i'm not goin to have very much to say for a while..but i do know a lot of kink/horndogs, and i don't their gonna mind telling me all the details of their juicy sexbot lives....

why can't the world just be a big fuckin condom, eh?