When I was a young lass I had a crush on a boy in preschool who thought I was absolutely appalling and grotesque. Girls were still icky and he hadn’t been to the doctor to get his cootie shot (he heard he’d have to turn his head and cough).
The boy came into class one [...]
Carefully separated her bones from the skin.
Made beautiful lampshades and cozy moccasins.
He ate the meat and cried for days
then cleaned up with oxiclean he bought from Billy Mays.
Monkey shit, popsicle stick
I’ve got a broken heart.
Chewing my nails
while writing woeful tales.
I’m just not sure where to start.
Do I tell you how he kissed me
or leave that boring shit out?
Do I kill him now?
And if so how?
Or aint I got the clout?
He tried so hard to contain his laughs.
He did his best when he learned that the window to her soul
was not above her nose, but on her chest.
As a general rule I do not like having conversations about food.
when people use more than one question mark in an email
looking at mayonnaise
grocery shopping
other people’s children
mustaches with no beards
the sound of shaking liquid
Jay Leno
people who think Brad Pitt is hot
irritated taste buds
Megan Fox’s flap jack titties
people while they are eating food (especially ice cream)
people who think going out to eat is “plans for the night”
surprises
Angelina [...]
skipping, skipping down the hall.
Play hopscotch or tether ball.
Twirl your hair and lift your skirt.
Eat a pie made out of dirt.
Wizards, and swords, and fucking star trek.
I’ve got pearls hanging from my neck.
Swing and sway and swish and swirl.
You just made out with a Catholic girl.
She tastes like shit and she reeks like trash.
Snuck out in the morning and left her some cash.
He whispered to his friends thinking that she wouldn’t hear.
She slit his throat and left a note and all the women cheered.
Walking through a garden he was screaming like a girl.
Pickles, tomatoes, onion rings.
Mayo makes me hurl.
He isn’t perfect but for now he’ll do.
Planted snails and gingerail, but nothing ever grew.