Thread: Lover Dreams of Berry Bushes

In the mid morning sun a beetle sits atop the beach dunes-
it crawls
and crawls,
treading sand
striving for the road up ahead, striving-
to get off the beach.

Treading sand to avoid
to avoid treading water.
Treading to
a void. Tree dreading to have oid? to have heard?

to oid, too oid!

It's legs won't work on the sea of a million tiny gains,
and they won't work in the salty slur of the Pass-if-Ick. THAT IS FOR FUCKING SURE, BITCH YOU'S A DEAD ASS BEETLE.

SHICKSAWSAKASHICKSAW

Ksmashanashnash- there goes the door- splintered, and there is fucking Grandpa in the entry way, bare ass naked save the clothes pins stuck on the long sausage nipnops hanging off the end of his droopy titty tot tots. The sound of his grunts echo through out the prayer shack. The blow of his fists upon the door have caused the picture of J.C. to fall off the wall and into the fire. And then he is at it-!!! Oh my mys- my eyes!

We dove out of the way quick, that is to say me, my two cousins and my good friend Gwendonlogot, but the cute chick we had been a' courting (she was our second cousin, get over it, it's not 'cest! it is cest la vie!) was not so lucky. And oh the shat. Gramps sprayed shat in every direction as he hardcore raped the shit out of her, screaming in her face like "ogablogadoga dog dog doga bloga ARRRR, A RAWRAW, RAW RAWRRR RAW." But the effort of it all was too much for him. You could see it in the fucking sweat swet sweatum coming off the clothes pin nip pins, fucking wateraterfall. Still he kept going, going at her rape ape apeing and decking her in the face with his sloppy old man punches. Then right as he climaxed he grabbed a brick from the fire place and smashed her face in. The climax set his heart off, exploding it in 7 directions, and as he collapsed with his last breath he used his dying weight to slam the brick once more into her face as blood and heartywart bits shot out his mouth.

Then came the anal death charge.

It was a veritable shat storm as shat rocketed his body around the room like one of the water powered rockets we used to use as kids.

And that beetle, you know what happened
to the beetle?
Some little kids picked him up
and threw him in a hole
and made him fight a crab.

Lovers, dreamers, berry bushes. It's all the same. It's the name of the game.

And speaking of- you know those 2 fast 2 furious cars, all supped and nozed up! YES YES! FASTER!

I'm going to get one
and we are going to fucking
cruise
and party
and get fucked up
on shlitz
and glue
and pick up
mad cute chicks.

Then we pull up, in the racing stripe green and blue flamed chariot and we get to the Palace of Dance. We flip, and drip sweat, and flip again. Then I'll spin around on my head while you spin around on your cock- while you spin 7 inchs above the floor (Gandalf's staff is not half as magick). Then we move in synch for a bit, and at the end go limp like rag dolls and fall to the floor. Then will come the battle cry of... YOU GOT SERVED

And yes, we will have fucking won the prize, Gandalf does not get magic wood this hard.

Tim I've always loved your work.

I don't know why, but I almost fell out of my seat laughing at "and then came the anal death charge"