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Showing posts from June, 2010

The more things change...

Centuries are scrawled out in languid freehand; there isn't much left to say. Scoundrels will be scoundrels and the meek have yet to inherit anything at all. The poor still want to be rich with pretty things and the rich are still in debt to whats left of them. Passions cool on the window sill, stolen by a sweet-toothed thief. The world ended yesterday, but I've woken up again to pour myself a cup of coffee. Religious demons cast out the non-believers in front of a live studio audience, after the Holy Father takes a taste for the body of the Holy Son. Slick your hair back with oil; don't worry because you look fine. Let's look between the cracks in the sidewalk to buy a good time; find a nickel and a dime and we'll be alright.

Silence was never golden like this before.

Once upon a time, I used to have something to say. I love the sound of my own voice but it seems I've lost it along the way.

quiet narcisissm

A face is a terrible thing to waste. And while false modesty seems to be the polite thing to do, I will boldy admit that I prefer quiet narcisism to plastic humility.

Should I deprive myself of my own reflection? I cannot help but smile at the mirror's recollection. But that is for myself to enjoy in solitude. Gifts of aesthetic quality were given to me without a plea to have them. My countance is not my own; simply a fortunate turn of genetic events.
I do not think it is at all shameful or conceited to love the sight of your face reflected, whenever you should like to catch it. But you cannot expect to base your own sense of merit on something you have inherited through the lottery of random circumstances. Your worth is the self you chose along the way towards the end of the earth. It lies in your actions and perceptions, not in the beguiling charm of your bedroom eyes.
I won't have anything to do with depreciating my grace for the sake of half-hearted deflections of obvious co…

"Surra De Bunda" or " Please sit quietly while I fuck your face"

I hope this isn't like the down low.

I was one of the last people to find out about the down low. I should have been the first, but word travels slow around these parts. The down low, if you don't know, is big ol' thugged out thugs who act homophobic in the daylight but chase the sweetest of the gays at night.

I found out about Surra De Bunda recently, thanks to a friend. I would put up a video, but honestly I don't know how things work. I can barely upload pictures; you're on your own. Go look it up. It means ass beating. It's about revenge.
Besides not being able to figure out configurations, I think it might just be too filthy.

Let me describe for you how this dance works. The man sits on the ground with his legs out. A lady with a fat ass will come find him. She will gyrate oh so provocatively and eventually she will squat over the man, facing his legs. She will grab his legs and hoist herself up, putting her feet up on his shoulders. She will then procceed to…

teen sex: contraceptives for every slutwhore? no, not on my watch.

Hey so teens.

looks like you decided not to abstain?

Ah, I see this is because you are hate-filled for christ, your lord and savior.

He's watching over you right now. Jesus sips his non-alcoholic beer from his beer hat in a cloud lawn chair while Dale Earnhardt serves him hot wings. It's all in the bible.

But clearly, that's not enough for you sluts. He died for you. But you still want to desecrate the memory of the only man who ever cared about you, with your dirty sweaty teen fucking?
Lookit you. You're pregnant. I am 50 % sure that is not a holy child, even if they guy did look a lot like jesus.

I can see you like to wear mini skirts? You might as well slap a target sticker on your naked cooter and walk backwards through Mecca.

Kids, you have to use protection. Like knives.

When you're having pre marital sex, you have to use contraceptives.

Now if you want to look good for god, the second you feel the urge, get married.

14 and horny? Get yourself some of that 21 yea…

Things Men should Know about Women ( a legitimate attempt for Cosmo)

Hey Guys.I need you all to understand something about women.

Imagine, if you will what it's like to have a menstrual cycle for a moment. I won't at all attempt to use any kind of graphic description because that's not the point. It's unpleasant to think about right? Well it's even worse to have. If you can imagine what it would feel like to have vicious elves wearing razor sharp cleats river dancing around your stomach, then try and understand what it's like to have that once a month, every month...for a while.

Now imagine what the emotional precursor is like to such an unpleasant and uncomfortable event in a ladies life. Some women, bless them, don't have any kind of issue. But a lot of women do. And it's god awful. It's like a tornado hit your sanity and started playing your nerves like they were out of tune violins.

So give us some slack. You can't possibly imagine what it's like to FEEL fat, cry because they didn't have the flavor of i…

what are you, an asshole?

And maybe I'm overreacting a bit
maybe I'm just sore for no good reason besides the inevitable onset of the Monthly Gift.
And I know you're busy. Always busy. And I know I need to be more aggressive with my phone to show you that i care,
BUT-

But quit being an asshole, asshole.

I waited so long to fuck your brains out
and then you blueball me like this.

I hope you're having a laugh at the expense of my frustration,

you chauvinist cassanova sadist.

What, now that you know I want to ride your dick you think I'm just going to be your damn free milk cow?!

BUY THE DAMN COW YOU IRRESPONSIBLE FUCK
BUY THE COW AND BE AN HONEST FARMER.
You're not getting subsidies for nothing, hombre.

You really want another farmer milking this cow?
Huh? Really, let's see if your ego can handle thinking about that other farmer suckin on my titties.


Cuz let me tell you something buddy,

I know a lot of farmers who would ONLY milk this cow once they bought it

I mean COME THE FUCK ON. You're prob…

Marylin Nicole.

Say what you will about Anna Nicole,

But she died the death of her favorite idol.


Perhaps not at the hands of the president

But certainly at the mercy of greedy men.


Marylin Monroe and Anna Nicole are

having sweet tea in a garden heavy with

the scent of the shade of lilacs and roses

on the veranda of heaven's gated hillside.

Youth and Beauty

Graced with the face

Of an angel by fate

Youth and Beauty

clasp their ivory

hands around the

blessed girls


Into the setting sun

Where they walk together

Youth leading Beauty

A face mauled by age

Mangled to leather


Youth is a selfish mother

She seeks solace in suicide

Dragging her child along

the gray sands of a distant shore

to drown in the tears

of a violent ocean


Youth steals Beauty;

Nothing is left for the dogs

but a malnourished mind

A great idea: pigs out of the blanket

So here's my new idea for improving the quality of life in the DMV area:

Lets get about 200 pigs.
Let's put little constable hats on them.
Let's also put some mustaches on a few of them.

Then, let's let them loose in the city.

I guarantee that this will improve your outlook on life. How could you possibly resist a pig with a little hat on its head?

It's not that I hate the police. I already elaborated on my fervent desires to be loved by a police officer ( still single boys in blue...) But I think that maybe pigs could alleviate crime. If you're in the middle of a robbery, chances are you will be distracted by a handsome mustachioed pig. Ditto for rape.

So if someone wants to rent me 200 pigs...or just give them to me, that would be a very kind service on your part.

Just imagine how much fun we could all have chasing hatted pigs through congress.
We could play that song they always play in British Comedies.

Let's make this happen. Unlike my Grand Bikini Parade...
I …

i advocate teens fucking

teens should be fucking.
if you don't learn when you're young,
then you're going to be awful in the sack.

If you're awful in the sack, people will talk behind your back.

So be a champ, learn to take it from behind.

fairy tales revisted.

The Turtle and The Hare
The turtle and the hare were drunk in a bar. The hare said, " Hey pussy shell, I bet I can beat you in a race." The turtle said," You're on, needledick." The next day, the turtle showed up for the race. The hare did not. The turtle won by default. The turtle had slipped a little GHB in the hare's drink and it was only after the race had been won that the hare realized that his ass was, in fact, bleeding.
moral: do not let turtles buy you drinks.

Rapunzel
Rapunzel was locked in a tower. Rapunzel wanted a date. She went online and set up an ad on craigslist. Princecharming69 was exactly what she was looking for in a random encounter. She let down her hair one day, without realizing how bad her split ends had become and a tub of lard by the name of Giovanni climbed up and nearly pulled her scalp off. " You're not Todd!", Rapunzel exclaimed. " You look good enough to rape," said Giovanni, charmingly, as he took off …

SHOWGIRLS: Because I have class, tits, and ass.

If you want to go to heaven,
I suggest you watch showgirls.

Some people might say:
"Camille, what are you, retarded? Showgirls is an awful movie."

To which I reply, in the handsome way I usually do :
"Slut, you wouldn't know genius if it sat on your face"

Because I take the blatantly subtle lesbian undertones seriously.
I take the dramatic dialogue seriously.
"It's a ver-sayse"

If that's not up there with "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn"
and " Get these motherfuckin snakes off this motherfuckin plane"
then I don't know what's going on in film society, much less the collective opinion of the american public.

And the sex scenes. The painful looking lapdance. The ferocious and confusing fuck in the pool. I'm pretty sure that actress must have given herself whiplash after that one.
It's tits.
It's ass.
It's a lot of tits.
It's a lot of ass.
Go watch it.

I've modeled my life after Crystal/ Nomi. You …

the roots of insomnia/ DTF 2/47

I am tired.
Very tired of being tired.

I can't sleep at all because I'm consistently thinking about sex with a specific gentleman.
I just want to tear that ass up. All the time. It's an exciting ass to tear. Best ass to date.

But certain circumstances limit how much of that ass I can tear up.
So I lie awake here, alone in my big bed
Just rolling around and wishing I could play with his dick.

That's all I want to do!
I just want to play with his dick and bake him a pie.
You know, and be nice to him. Really really nice to him.

Is that so wrong?

I would LOVE to be his baby
But I'll settle for tearing that ass up.
(Beat my pussy up a bit, you'll like it just fine.)



Love poem #74

Hey Boy
Guess what?

You're the tits!
You have a terrific dick!

I can't stop thinking about you
If I had balls, they'd be blue

Honey you know how to fuck
And I know how to make you bust a nut

You're the tits!

People in Relationships, tell me about it.

Guess what I never had?!
A boat.
But also, I'd like to know what it means to have a relationship.
Because I mean...that's a pretty vague term right there.
I have a relationship with 711 clerks; they sell and I buy.
We're not fucking or nothing; but we do have a relationship.

But what about the ones with the fucking? I want people who have been together for years or many months to tell me about what it's like.

Because I only have one perspective; the one of a horny spinster.

So I want to hear from all you folks who have had, or are in a relationship.
The good, the bad, the ugly; just give me your side of the story.

Post anonymously so your partner doesn't get mad if you start bitching.

Love poem #73

Let me be your greatest escape
Let my body sing electric
Lullabies as you wake
late in the evening
early in the day

If only to be your oasis
Far from the
deserts of real life

I will take you inside;
I will kiss you until
the sky fades away.

ode to the blues

when I hear that old trumpet drawl
I start to lose my mind
to the whine of an old blue singer

And I writhe
And I fall to
the hands of my own
comission that held
me tender in the night
of an old memory
that howls through me

I spent the evening lost
in a spell of a lonely heart

Dean Martin

I want you to sing to me.
Sing me something soft
and sweet that Dean Martin used to sing.

Sing to me and I'll close my eyes
Before you sweep me off my feet
Come on Casanova, kiss me.

A good woman.

Every time i do a load of laundry,
It makes me want to get hot and heavy.

And if that doesn't make me a good woman,
Honey, I really don't know what does.

Michael Moore is disgusting

I know I'm like 6 years behind on this subject
But I'm a nostalgic kind of gal.

I FINALLY got around to watching Bowling for Columbine
After I couldn't find anymore worthwhile Lifetime Movie Network movies to watch
( Hulu Heads: watch Loverboy. Shit is mad wack.)

And okay. Yes, guns and their control are ridiculous.
There are valid points to this point.

But Michael Moore. Regardless of how embarrassingly easy it is to get a gun,
you are still just a fat, sloppy and obnoxious son of a fuck.

You look like the offspring of a myopic bloodhound and a hairy albino whale.

I can do without your terrible voice
And "Let's Get Whitey" bias.

YOU'RE WHITEY.
You can sympathize; but don't try to empathize.
You are the Ann Coulter of Liberals.

Whereas she is an anorexic blond sack of hate-filled horse-shit
You are are a tub of holier-than-thou lard.

You are so disgusting. Visually abhorrent.
And audibly rage-provoking with that god-awful
super liberal bullshit you spit out at pe…

trip.

The only time I really felt normal
was when I was tripping my face off on the beach.

Me, Aldus Huxley and company.

It's funny how complicated simple things can be
and how little complicated things matter in the end.

I tuned in
I listened

It was really wonderful.

it's going to get better.

Hey now I can't lie to you folks.
Sometimes, when the gray days come by,
I get a little sick of it too.

But It's going to get better.
I always know that it'll get better.

Oh you know I'm heartsick
And stupid about it everyday
Miserable and paranoid
A restless mess

It's an ugly town
The city isn't friendly

But it's going to get better.

It'll only get worse if you want it to.

Your tears won't dry if you keep crying about it.

It's going to get better.

Beautiful days won't ask you to stay
But you can remember them while
The rain coats the rose petals.

admiring buildings half heartedly

what are you doing to me.
I can't enjoy myself
in the throes of youth

When my body gets
thirsty for somebody
and the only eyes
the size me up and down
are drifting nobodies;
everybody but you.

I look away;
I admire the columns
of buildings half-heartedly
melting sidewalks in the rain

Dear Grad Schools

Dear Grad School Programs,

Let me fuck my mind with your exquisite dildo of knowledge and prestige. I want to have shakespeare perform cunnilingus on me in iambic pentameter. I want to fellatiate Freud's theory of dreams. I'd like to jerk off Voltaire and ride Camus into the 21st century sunset. I want to seduce dead poets and writhe in sonnets.

In short, I want to be your whore. Except that I'm paying YOU to let me FUCK myself with a piece of paper that gives evidence of my intelligence. fAnd when I'm done, I'll use it to wipe myself clean of your academic seed.

Summa cum laude Baby,
Cum all over my brain
So I can call myself a Master.

With the fondest and most professional regards,
Camille Frere the First and Last.

dick rag.

You're a total dick rag
If you're keeping me in the dark on purpose.

If you're taking advantage of how unbearably shy I am
Lost in the balmy lands of romance

You are a malicious fuck, is what you are.

You know I want you.

But I don't want to play this game.

God, alright, I surrender!
I admit defeat. Reluctantly.

Isn't that enough?

Whitey, you want silly rap?

Hey you want silly rap?
Don't listen to Lil Wayne.

Listen to Outkast.

It's much sillier
in a very clever way.

Recommended: "We luv deez hoez"

Lil Wayne, as much as I respect him for making money off of being a complete dumbass,
Is a complete dumbass.

Hey now, woah there, I listen to him.

But that doesn't mean I don't think he's got the intelligence of a mossy rock.

i want to be normal.

everybody everywhere all around the world is having a good time

except for me.
why can't i be like everybody else?

I'll tell you. Seriousness.
It's a crime!
I'm going to go out dancing all summer instead.

I'm going to go have a great time
Like I used to do before the plague of my ugly town spit on my spirit.

Fuck you ugly little town;

I'm going to go dance.

While we're on the subject of sportfucking

You know, a lot of the time I feel guilty because I'm not out there getting hammered and banged everynight.

Let me ask you all something, as the youth:

Do you feel that too?
That stupid sense of urgency to get fucked because you're supposed to because you're young?

I'm going to tell you right now:
Bad sex is much worse than no sex at all.

Bad sex doesn't mean that someone is necessarily bad in bed.

Bad sex is bad if you roll over in the dark
And you feel like a garbage can.
You feel like you did your body wrong by letting yourself touch and be touched by someone who couldn't give half of a flying fuck.
Bad sex is when a person treats you like a whore without paying for it.
It's fucking someone knowing full well you might as well be anybody else; the outcome is the same.

But hey. For some people, it works. And god bless you folk; i'd have an easier time with my life if I had your mentality.

I'm going to be frank
And I'm going to say that
I would rather not…

Sport fucking?

I don't need to get laid

I need to make love.

There is a serious difference between the two.

Sport-fucking
Booty calls
No strings attached

Child's play. I am no longer a child.
( and this is where you make the joke I just set up for you )
I'm sorry men of the world,
I can't just fuck you till your wife comes home
and bring you a sandwhich before she walks in.

No I don't want to fuck.
I don't want to pretend I'm having a good time.
I want some fucking tenderness.

That's the kind of thing you can't fake.

honey

come on honey
walk on over my way
come on by
my side and let
me talk to you
a while

Listen while
I weave webs
of words you've
never heard spoken
before by a lady
so demure

Let me make you feel like a man
Like I know I can
Because I want to
Because Baby I can understand you

I know you better than your eyes do
Drinking in your own reflection locked in
the dark glass of a boutique's display

I can wrap my little arms around
Your waist and twist and turn like
currents in a distant ocean

You can swing with me
You can sing to me
while I dance on
your mysterious mind

How to Write Good: Your Guide to Writing Weller than your other peers

So you want to learn how to write good eh?
Don't ask.
Because I'm going to tell you. Right. Now.

The first step to writing good is to throw in filthy words after most or every non-filthy word.

For example:
The Duck went to the park. He ate some bread crumbs. He had a great time.

Are you bored?
You are; don't lie
don't try to PATRONIZE me

Well that was an example of poor or unwell writing.

This is an example of how you should ALWAYS be writing:

The fucking duck of a fuck fucked his way to the fucking park. He ate a motherfuckin bread crumb. He had the best motherfucking time of all fucking time.

Not only is it LONGER
It just makes more sense.

Rule 2, the final rule.
Write about beautiful bitches.

And S-E-X. Sex.

And if you're a pussy fucked motherfucker,
replace penis with bull and vagina with rosebush

or manhood and essence

But example:
There once lived an ugly girl. She died alone.

Not at all interested. What an uninteresting character.

Okay, but now:

There once lived a beautiful girl.…

Police officer boyfriend.

I want a sweet police officer boyfriend.

With big ol'doe eyes.
And a gun and a uniform.

I want him to remember dates
That I probably won't remember.
He would smoke pot with me

He'd be a sweet pot smoking cop.

A good man who loves me
Without an attorney present.

Unraveling

really all it is
is ribbons
unraveling
slowly riding
the wind

The dust of time
unsettled by the tides
where nervous futures
beckon wary to neurotic
paper dolls, all fearful
of the distant ides

Absurdity shine
brightly as beauty;
Listen to the melody
of joy as life laughs
along with you

You crazy diamond
You beautiful bastard
You hip cat
Shine on and on
Golden in the sun
Electric in the night

Go on with the winds
Of change but don't
try to stay the same

stripes

I
fuckin.
love.
stripes.

Holy Roller Ghosts.

Does anybody else have a thing for stripes?
If I was anything else other than a girl,
I'd probably be a zebra.
Well...zebra cat.
Cat in a zebra suit.
With glittery whiskers.


I just can't get enough of them.
75% of what I own is striped.
Black and white
White and Red
Blue and white
Anything. Really. Just as long as it's striped.

What is it about stripes?
Horizontal: bigger breasts
Vertical: I don't own vertical stripes, but I'm sure they'd look nice. Slimming.

Conclusion: Wear stripes or don't. It's fine by me; I love them all the same.

Things I need

A boat.
Really.

I have boat shoes.

We're half way there.

I might also like an ottoman.
Or a man named Otto.

Or perhaps you might like to give me your soul.
I don't NEED it...
Or want it...

But I might be able to pawn it for a sailboat
Or a ship in a bottle, realistically.

But if you give me a boat,
We can go sail the seas
The rivers and ponds
streams and drainpipes

We can sail on forever.

You can give me a kiss,
But if you miss, you owe me a boat.

the trouble with words

I haven't had a heart to write
REALLY write anything since
I've gotten back from heaven.

The only thing I want to do
Is make sweet love to you.

Because that's the only way
to fully express myself and
the joy I harvested on the beach.

Words aren't doing it;
So I'm going to do it.

I really hope it's consensual.
I want to make you feel good again.

I will not let myself forget!
How absurd.

Perverts; what is it about my face that gets you so hard?

SO A COMPLETE AND TOTAL WASTE OF AN ASSHOLE
left a disgusting and poorly written comment about how he'd like to have sex with me.

Hey guy, I know you think anonymous is a good cover up, but wait and see what happens...you filthy pervert.

So it wasn't just like " grl u cut3 let's fuck"

It was graphic. It was the same effect as a man flashing his weak limp dick at you from underneath a trenchcoat.

It was vile. It disturbed me completely.

What the fuck guys.

Why do you think that's acceptable?
And before you tell me I'm asking for it, go choke on a festering tampon before sticking your head up your own ass.
You know that's not true. No body wants to be violated visually or verbally.cunts.

So what is it perverts? Why me?
I haven't had a titty picture up in months.
The only sex I write about is either grotesque or sad.

What is it about my face that makes you want to cum all over it you weird sick fucks?

But thank you. Really, that's the kind of boost I need…

My Friend Christina

You are like
the first breath
of green on
winter's trees

You are the
stars that
fight against
the city lights
in the depths
of the night

You redeem
the dredges
of glass-eyed
jealous hags
that prick
the sidewalks

You are an angel
My dear,
I hope you never change.

Orange Moon

Take every whispering
breathless living moment
that shimmers, sparkles
like diamonds dancing past
the water, reflecting the
grin of an orange moon
Hanging heavy in the
eve of a summer sky

Love the laughter that tolls the bells
of your spirit singing hymns this
beautiful moment in the sand

Follow a man along the violet
pink scrawled sunset beach
And laugh at the human carnival
Drink in the colors, the shapes,and sizes

Admire the filth that refuses to apologize
for the colors that it chooses to
paint the portrait of the carousel
that twinkles before the city lights

thank you nyc

New York City
Breathing
Heaving
Life into Me

Buildings
tall and painted
by beautiful stones

I feasted my eyes
on the glory of the city

I found my heart
in a bed between
A Marvelous Boy
and A Beatuiful Girl

I tasted life in the grit
of the sand that kept
the ocean from washing
away the throngs of faces
and bodies that live without shame

I found beauty
It seeped inside my pores

I learned what it means to be happy.
After all this time, I finally started to live.
Thank you New York City.

Let me call you baby

Baby I miss you
I've missed you
Spinning on the sprials
of days and ribbons of months

Baby I've been thinking
I've been thinking about you
And I've been missing you for miles.

Do you miss me baby?
Do you miss me too?

I want to see you honey
I want to kiss your lips
I want to kiss your face
I want your warm embrace

I've tried to forget
Forgetful as I am
I can't forget how
much I miss you

Baby, let me call my Baby.