Ruin

Naked Coeds, vaseline and some whipped cream!

Well, here you are. You should be ashamed at your predictability.

You have now become the unwilling participant in a study on adverse human psychology.

For the past several weeks I have been sitting here at my keyboard plugging away at poetry full of content and great entertainment value, and you know what? You Internet ingrates don’t care!

I have a hit tracker that has been watching you. All of you. And it’s sadly apparent to me that my most popular posts are the ones that feature “sex” or “fuck” in the title.

Shame. Hang your heads in shame.

I’d like to now qualify your level of moral degradation by conducting the following survey. Be honest with your answers. My hit tracker is watching you. It sees you. Really. And might I say, on it’s behalf, that you really need to rotate your underwear more frequently.

If given the choice, I’m most likely to watch movies featuring:

A) That precocious Shirley Temple and her adorable hijinx! She’s so cute!

B) Explosions. Lots and lots of explosions.

C) Naked Coeds, Vaseline and some whipped cream.

If given the choice, I’m most likely to eat:

A) Anything vegetarian. I’m health conscious and my body is my temple.

B) Chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.

C) Naked Coeds, Vaseline and some whipped cream.

When attending a party, I’m most likely to wear:

A) I never party. I’m frequently at church and you don’t party in God’s temple.

B) Velcro. Lots and lots of Velcro.

C) Naked Coeds, Vaseline and some whipped cream.

When I die, I want the following type of people attending my wake:

A) The Stone Temple Pilots. They can play while my friends and family dance. Stone Temple Pilots rock!

B) Librarians. Lots and lots of Librarians.

C) Naked Coeds, Vaseline and some whipped cream.

Thanks for your honesty. It means a lot to me. I shall tabulate these answers and notify you all accordingly.

I sincerely hope you have learned a lesson here today. One needn’t sprinkle their columns with references to panties, nudity, buxom Asians, sadomasochism, foot fetishes, panties and more panties, hot sexy schoolgirls, leather, bondage, sexual perversions, donkeys, midgets or panties and yet more panties so that web spiders everywhere will collect this data in order to drive people to their site.

I’m not bitter. I am thrilled when one thousand of you, in just one day, visit my blog to read about my panties but am sadly dejected when ten of you wander in on various other days to read about my various other crap.

I am proud to say I am part of the moral majority. I will not sink to the levels of depravity that make those other sites on the Internet popular. I won’t offer columns about sex just to drive people in! I shall stand firm, yet cocky, and refrain from using words like boobs and panties in order to pad my hit counter!

Now if you’ll pardon me, UPS is here. I hope it’s my Vaseline order.

In the library of mind,
with your words and books,
you’re never required
to stop and look
at the patrons who come
to flip fresh pages,
for you remain lost
with your long dead sages,
where there’s no practicality
to be there found
so put down your philosophy
and just look around.

Autumn’s heart arrives to day
with ball in hand, she looks to play,
but swings are empty; slide’s bereft,
on this playground there is no love left.

In a world full of sleepers,
tomorrows keep,
silent and sorrowed,
for in this world
full of dreamers
with hearts at peace,
faith’s just borrowed
and then leant out
as quickly
as that faith comes in
with the hope that
tomorrows will finally begin.

The chain letter.

I cannot believe, in a world as enlightened as ours, that these things still manage to exist. They are the equivalent of cockroaches on paper.

Who really believes in this stuff, anyway? If the secret to true happiness were to be found in these documents, I’d quit my job and invest all my money in parchment and quill pens. I would pen them all day long and, when my hands finally got tired, I would do it with my toes.

I imagine the same people responsible for these letters are the very people who sit behind closed curtains in the dark all day. They dutifully log television commercials and then run out to buy Axe Body Spray and Colgate by the truckload. The mere fact they now possess these items will surely bring incalculable amounts of joy to their lives!

(Sure, go ahead and laugh. Now come take a look at the eight hundred boxes of Calgon I keep in my shed. It can happen to the best of us.)

I got another chain letter yesterday afternoon. A coworker tracked me down and stuffed into my hands while I tried to masquerade as a potted plant behind the water cooler.

“What is this?” I screamed after him, as I spit a leaf out of my mouth.

“Instructions for Life” it said:

#1 - Trust in God but lock your car.

What kind of oxymoron is that? I say let your paint job fade to primer gray and fill your car with enough gardening tools, drive-through refuse and assorted trash so that you will impede theft but not vision. No one is going to want a car like that. God has enough things to worry about. I trust this way I can leave my vehicle unlocked and not have him fretting over my Lexus.

#2 - Share your knowledge — it’s the way to achieve immortality.

Obviously the wise sage that penned this down never had children. Here is what happens at my home if I attempt to share my knowledge.

“Honey, a penny saved is a penny earned.”

“Mooooooooooooooom. What the heck do you think I can buy with a penny? You are sooooo dumb!”

Immortality. Ha ha ha.

#3 - Once a year go some place you have never been before.

The only hope I have in ever achieving this grand life instruction is to begin shopping further and further away from my home until I am eventually at a Mini-Mart in Alaska wrestling my Twinkies from the angry mouth of a Polar Bear.

#4 - Believe in love at first sight.

This one is right. I should be married to Johnny Depp.

#5 - Don’t trust a man/woman who does not close their eyes when you kiss them.

Okay, does this not mean you are opening your eyes to see if they are opening theirs? I think that’s cheating.

#6 - Mind your own business

Ha ha ha ha! Hee hee hee! That was fucking awesome! I’m not sure if I can even go on now. My ribs ache.

#7 - Spend some time alone.

Well, this one has some merit. I’m moving into my closet.

The letter went on to advise me that, in direct proportion to the number of people I intended to forever alienate from my life by passing these instructions on to them, things would improve for me on many dramatic levels!

I’m sending mine to Ed McMahon. Just because I might already be a winner.

I think I shall make my own list of instructions for a happy life.

#1 - Move to Borneo.

Change your name, disconnect your phone and alter your perfume so they can’t track you by smell. If you don’t do this, your children will find you and make you sew that button on.

I want to lay with my face
by the length of your neck
and breathe you in
until I’m wrecked.

I want to press my hands
to the sides of your face,
drink of your lips
and plead my case.

I want to merge with you
until we’re one in the same,
and then prove to you
you’re not a game.

You tried to
break me down,
break my will,
break my heart,
took your fill,
took my trust,
took my faith,
gave me shit,
gave heartache,
gave opinion,
wanted none.
Want me back?

Fuck off.
We’re done.

With the wind in your hair do you think of me,
imagine my touch as it never will be?

With sun’s many tongues lapping soft at your skin,
do you dream about love and what might have been?

When dusk hits the hills like a petulant child
do you finally give in and let us run wild?