Virginity, Violence and Male Entitlement.
never once have I thought all women owed me much of anything…. much less their bodies. Cull the herd…
A Dose of Andrew for those who have been going without…
a few thoughts on the rights of choice
StoryTelling
I wasn’t going to tell you, but the story had to be told
about how I went from a wallflower, to silly and bold
It all started with a glimpse of the face
and all of the little replies in kind
so I had to put someone on the case
someone with an investigative mind
and hope they could keep up with your pace
I looked high and low, and all I could find
was an unusual character by the name of Ayse
and so I pushed forward, half-cocked and half-blind
some clues I deciphered, but his efforts were slowed
Seven Spanish Angels, the Body Violin, he wasn’t sold
Ayse went overboard with tales of conspiracy
all of his rantings didn’t really convince me
something about messages in the art
and taking over the world in an alien way
he told me the sign was a brand on the heart
I tried not to gasp, lest I give it away
an alien takeover in which I unwittingly played a part
and he told me their leader won’t tolerate strays
but I have a secret, I’m not the only one who’s marked
a scar in scarlet, shhh, it’s a big letter “A”
and now the game’s over, or so it seems
The government stoppage, a twisted power play
The lack of words, and what they all mean
and the superheroine still saving the day
something broken inside, I won’t pay to be seen
I keep hold of something, but what I wont say
I suppose I will keep waiting, a boy and his dream
lifted from my friend over at http://thereporterandthegirl.com/ and a great amount of thanks for the mutual support and tons of respect for the intellect, and poignant views over there. I think she even has a book out.
the dangers of publishing, and remember, marketing is huge, taking the time is always tough, especially if you are like me with full-time day job, online classes, and writing is less of a job and more of a release, but this elucidates the fun of being your own boss quite well
http://clancytucker.blogspot.com/2013/06/27-june-2013-why-self-publish-by-joel.html
a.k.a. I just wanna be loved, is that so wrong?
my take on two culturally special romance stories
the science-y side of me not usually seen on this blog… but if you have any curiosity about light speed and black holes, or why something with mass can’t attain light speed, actually, not WHY, but the understanding we have of how attaining light speed works, then is is a truly great article
for those who follow me and mine, this is the opposite of Affluenza the bullsh*t, make-believe condition that a retiring judge let a rich kid off of murder for. So yeah senators and congressmen, racism isn’t dead, it is just cloaked in separation of classes.
very good advice from a fellow blogger
Not my usual fare, but a friend challenged me to write a parody about an impossibly repulsive woman. So in honor of my favorite parodist (?) Weird Al Yankovic… here is a parody of the Macklemore song Thrift Shop, I present, Pork Chop….
Pork Chop
I’m gonna heave and gag,
she’s lookin’ at my pockets
I-I I’m hurlin’, tryin’ not to throw up,
her face is fucking awful…
I walked in and thought,
“God what is that big blob!”
turns out it’s a girl that we call Pork Chop
the skin on her arms is so damn floppy
the other girls are like, “wow, I feel like a hottie”
her smell’s makin’ me hella weak,
headed to my workday seat
stank’s makin’ me dizzy, better get some dramamine
tryin’ to stay busy, but at lunch Pork Chop stands next to me
tears fillin’ up my eyes, wow I can hardly breath (wheeezzzeee)
Thank God there’s my friends!
coughing fit, drool and spit, she needs brushin’ and flossin’
people keep on pausin’ ’cause of the catastrophe she is causin’
smelly from her belly and the flies that keep on droppin’
I’m gonna pay money just to say I’m doin’ somethin’…. else
she smells like a piggy pile, she smells like a piggy pile
no for real, ask around, she smells like a piggy’s sty
matching jumpsuit pants and bunny slippers
Dookie smell on my jacket from her sticky fingers
I went to a fumigator, I bought out the whole store
her smell still lingered, so I went back and bought more
Hello? oh god, that face, damn, hell no!
Medusa ain’t got nothing on her face, I looked, Oh no!!
so far I’m just sick, and nobody’s turned to stone
the girls are all sayin’, “damn, she got a witch nose”
I’m gonna heave and gag,
she’s lookin’ at my pockets
I-I I’m hurlin’, tryin not to throw up,
her face is fucking awful…
as she walks down the street they’re all stoppin’
avoidin’ being too close to where she’s walkin’
I’m heavin’, I’m heavin’, my head’s over the garbage
she winked at me now my lunch is about to come up
Oh lord she has a couple buttons undone on her shirt
I think the smell is coming from under her skirt
I wonder, I wonder where that thing’s been
and if she needs a Massengill or some Depends
cottage cheese fanny needs super granny panties
takes up two beds tanning and can’t get under the rolls of blubber
even getting into XXL sweats is a lot of trouble
when she hits the club, the cover charge is double
they be like, “no ‘quake insurance tonight”
she’s like “Oh, well then, my cankles really hurt”
a weight limitation, let’s do the heavy addition
just to get her back home will require a super giant fork-lift
A covered truck so no one can smell it
and the night club won’t lose all of its business
that’s kinda mean though
but a 600 pound gremlin drivin’ people out of the club is a hella don’t
Jeez no! Insect hairs sprouting out of her moles
now she wants me as her man…
I can’t run, oh no! I can’t run, oh no!
I’m gonna heave and gag,
she’s lookin’ at my pockets
I-I I’m hurlin’, tryin’ not to throw up,
her face is fucking awful…
A hairy Jabba the Hut, it is incredible
I’m running down the road with Miss Pork Chop chasin’ slow
I’m gonna heave and gag,
she’s lookin’ at my pockets
I-I I’m hurlin’, tryin’ not to throw up,
her face is fucking awful…
please tell me she’s a joke…
andrewsaysblog 