i dance with my dogs in the night time,
it ain't safe for the black or the white girls.
we are not alike
hawks eat cranes.
mush doggies, mush into my inbox!
everybody wants something from me
c̶r̶e̶d̶e̶n̶z̶a̶ ̶s̶p̶l̶i̶t̶s̶
n̶e̶t̶ ̶r̶i̶p̶s̶
my prickly high's bough floods dips and float away
like incidence i̶t̶ ̶f̶e̶e̶l̶s̶ ̶i̶ ̶l̶i̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶
it f̶e̶e̶l̶s̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶ ̶i̶ ̶l̶i̶e̶
↑ hurts, but lie sultry
married to the money fuck the world
= that's adultery
*looks at own reflection*
“they coulda made the graphics way better.
that shit looks so fake”
on stage my band is playing,
i emerge from a coffin under
hundreds of copies of
Alien vs Predator on blu-ray
just wait til the black shit inside me turns to Sprite,
then you'll see what i'm really made of
stop callin em ur “girls”
its pronounced “tiddyballs”
i’m in the corner,
sasquatching you kiss her
the only reason dudes wear wifebeaters is to rip
them off in a shopping center parking lot
PSYCHO HOSE BEAST GANG
is it illegal to look at porn on ur phone in public?
also: why am i like this?
can I just for once in my life get a
“ayy bruh, nice nips!”
meditating on life’s tough questions, like: what’s the funniest way to dispose of my used-up sex toys?
recurring daymare: the security cameras at work can see what I look at on my phone during breaks
his earth’s nullity
her earth’s mars’ hell
kick rox u suthern blox. brimming with dildos.
define urself in accordance to my art! is that so much to ask?
scantily clad one trick pony
supportive friends: “just be yourself”
me: “who the fuck is that?”
you: “so what’s the scariest movie ever?”
me, a horror expert: “it’s called called waking up
everyday, its super long and takes place entirely
in my house.”
here lies webdepression.
cause of death: embarrassed, for you. embarrassment by
proximity to you. we thought he just fainted. he died instantly.
are there really restaurants where a guy in a tux goes table to table
playing a violin? i’ve yet to witness this in real life.
“what would you say is your one monumental
life achievement?”
me, on my deathbed:
“traumatizing trusting people over and over”
(looks away)
yall: “i’ll get scared of haunted house movies
when they show one as white and boring as mine”
*watches paranormal activity*
yall: “god dammit…”
CHRISTIAN SLUHTZ
bones in ur backpack
=
skeletons in ur closet
skatestoppers on the Titanic’s grand staircase railing
mudwrestling but with bronzer. i’d do it.
pale and bruised is over. it’s all about being
tan and lacerated now
power move for the workplace: pull ur dick out waaay before
you get to the bathroom.
*to demonstrate extra authority, pull ur sac out too*
how should my friend balance his
Super Soul Sunday side with his
wanting you to spit in his mouth side?
(asking for a friend)
riling up the sex goofster in my jalopy with uncommon precedence
my biography titles:
“Pamper Me, Fudge-O!”
“The Oiling: Way Grainier Than I Remember”
“A Basking Nugget”
“Hang Back a Sec Because I Love You”
tonguedressin torchurine shegetz for humanity
minatory draculish clinic
goes tits up, satiated
DJ Coatchek
DJ ThyGap
DJ StayKums
DJ StormDrayne
DJ FyoodAlizm
DJ PreeMeeez
blondterage skedaddling
a bobblehead of me but shrugging instead of nodding
what’s the point of being rich if you
don’t have gargoyles in your house?
me, texting the empty
void that is existence:
“ay QT, how u?”
empty void: “i have a bf”