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08/2/25   
Low in saturated fats and ethics

Peace Frog

by Laurence Trundle Lawrence
bio/email
November 15, 2004
There's blood in the streets,
there's meat on these sheets.
What am I, sleeping with a butcher?

Napping on crazy wax paper
wrapped in crap vapors
dreaming of walking on gongs
past a sleeping pitbull.

Goddamn is this song loud
carpeting the air
like a plumber who woke up
and forgot what his goddamned job was
and just started carpeting everything.
Crazy fuck.

Chicago's overrated.
I once dated a girl from Chicago
and she wasn't that great.

Birds swoop down
like marionettes on a string
in some kind of puppet show
about birds or something.

Blood stains the palm trees
like a toilet brush
from a bloody toilet.
Jesus, how did that happen??
Yuck.

There's a trash can
full of homosexual Easter candies
if you're interested.
What if there were a holiday
called Homosexual Easter?
Would you take the day off work?
Or would you just show up anyway
and work so nobody thought you were queer?
That s a tough one.

I once rode a boat
through a river of sadness.

Man did that suck.

But I wrote a haiku on the ride:

I once kissed an overweight Eskimo
Don't ask, it's nobody you would know
She smelled kind of crappy
and she looked sort of Jappy
come to think of it, what kind of chick is named Elmo?

Shit, that's not a haiku, it s a limerick.

Gotta remember: the Japs eat the fish, the Irish drink like fish.

Christ, it's still raining blood out there.
What a perfect day to call in sick.

I wonder if I could still get paid if I say it's Homosexual Easter?


Quote of the Day
“My love is like a red, red wiiiine… go to my heaaaad… make me forgeeet… Wait. Sorry. My love is like a red, red rose… just like eeeeevery night has its daaaaaw- awawaaaan… Just like eeeevery cooowboy… Fuck.”

-A.D.Dobbs
Fortune 500 Cookie
Clowns don't hate you, they just feel sorry for you. Your "Don't Worry, Be Slappy" series of self-help books finally broke the five-copy sales barrier this week, and just got you sued by the estate of Slappy White. This week's lucky strikes: Clover-Workers' Union, ump didn't see ball careen off batter's jock and through strike zone, killed them all while they were dreaming about killing you, threw your ex-wife's severed head down lane on accident.


Try again later.
Most Misunderstood Nirvana Songs
1.Smells Like Clean Spearmint
2.Race Me
3.Come as You Barf
4.Small Pathologies
5.Harp-Shaped Fox
Archives
Dromediary
Long and hairy luminaries hang from the sky and dangle scary fingers downward in repose just itching to twitch and pick my nose. Prescient crescents— the cartoon moons fill the sky to seven deep with beauty to cause my golden weep as I... (10/18/04)

Ray Manatino's Half-Remembered Classics
Jack Sprat could eat no fat but his wife was a big fat bitch. Shit could she eat, she ate all my beets and my pickled pig's feets. Next week poker's at your house, Jack. The itsy, bitsy, spider crawled up the water spout. I almost fucking died,... (9/20/04)

Whistlepig
Loud and sweet, the howling of the whistlepig erects my nipples like sails taut in the wind. Sailfish taught me to win by cheating at cards, like a cardinal at charms or an oriole with arms. Whistlepig, whistlepig, let me in, caught by... (8/23/04)

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