Satan Admires Persistence If It Drives You To Drink

You should stop already.

There’s bad ahead of you.

It’s on you like shit to a blanket.

No need for you to crank it.

Just thank it and move aside.

Don’t you and it collide.

It brings the great divide.

Builds crevace twice as wide.

Makes folks wish they died.

Then they do it –

They go outside and

There, they see another road.

Another path.

They shake their head and

Tip their hat cause

Slewfoot has showed them the way.


When You Start Thinking About Microbes

God ain’t give a hoot about what you think.

God’s okay with you still being a fink.

She could give two shits if you drink.

Screw around on your husband.

Beat the hell out yo’ wife.

God don’t even think twice.

Ain’t saying naughty or nice.

God ain’t naming no price.

Give ’em shit, it’s your choice.

See, God’s got problems.

Just like you.

And some of them God

Don’t know what to do.

Ain’t enough shits to care about you, too.

How’s it like being bacteria?


Lucifer In My Genes

He had a devil of time getting

Into those pants.

See, she was married,

Living with her parents.

And mom and dad had a different way.

Wanted the chance to say okay or

No, if they had to, but she

Wouldn’t listen. She was

Nice on the outside but lay barely hidden was

A monster of gigantic strength.

Who’d no doubt go to any length.

And do anything, anything it takes.

Slash your throat, crack your eggs.

Bear hug anyone who dares to beg

To be let go.


But no, she won’t let go…

Beware The Witch Spotters

If your nose is hooked,

You’re a witch.

If you have a broom and an

Un-swept room,

You’re a witch.

Say you own a cauldron

And your hat’s an odd one,

You likely boil children and

You’re a witch.

You like to bake cookies?

Get kids to play hookies?

Then sneakily cook these?

You’re a witch.

If black is your color and

Your cackles smother any

Curious kids looking for mates,

Then you know damn well

You’re still under a spell an

It’s time to cook up some new treats…


First You Buy The Product, Then You Buy The Woman.

When salt breaks up

It’s a killer.

When mates collide

It’s a thriller.

But after that high.

When push leads to why?

Neither are drinking the water.


Attraction, Affection, Attachment: Call It Love!

She was angry.


Wanted him busted in a

Thousand million pieces as

Hostilities increase he says

All this money on lawyers

Drawn out and quartered

They’re winning our fight but

Love turned to spite doesn’t care

Wrong from right.

It’s attracted, affected and attached

To it’s plight.


Beware The Virus Vector

Growling was the language she spoke and

Howling was how she repeated.

When she imparted your speaker didn’t speak.

When her hand’s up you stay seated.

You’ll get your turn to have your turn.

But it’s not now so maybe learn that and

Senior, please stay seated!

Elsewise you’ll be greeted,

With two evil eyes and a

Million whys…

Why is it you’re such an asshole?



Some Actors Do More Than Break A Leg

Luke, I am yer fahdah!

You can go to the movies or

The movies can come to you.

The movies don’t care which road they take

They just want to climb inside you.

They laugh.

You laugh.

They cry.

You cry.

They lie.

You buy.

Yay! You’re going to the movies…!


JFK – The Speech That Killed Him



The very word “secrecy” is repugnant in a free and open society; and we are as a people inherently and historically opposed to secret societies, to secret oaths and to secret proceedings. We decided long ago that the dangers of excessive and unwarranted concealment of pertinent facts far outweighed the dangers which are cited to justify it. Even today, there is little value in opposing the threat of a closed society by imitating its arbitrary restrictions. Even today, there is little value in insuring the survival of our nation if our traditions do not survive with it. And there is very grave danger that an announced need for increased security will be seized upon by those anxious to expand its meaning to the very limits of official censorship and concealment. That I do not intend to permit to the extent that it is in my control. And no official of my Administration, whether his rank is high or low, civilian or military, should interpret my words here tonight as an excuse to censor the news, to stifle dissent, to cover up our mistakes or to withhold from the press and the public the facts they deserve to know.

But I do ask every publisher, every editor, and every newsman in the nation to reexamine his own standards, and to recognize the nature of our country’s peril. In time of war, the government and the press have customarily joined in an effort based largely on self-discipline, to prevent unauthorized disclosures to the enemy. In time of “clear and present danger,” the courts have held that even the privileged rights of the First Amendment must yield to the public’s need for national security.
Today no war has been declared–and however fierce the struggle may be, it may never be declared in the traditional fashion. Our way of life is under attack. Those who make themselves our enemy are advancing around the globe. The survival of our friends is in danger. And yet no war has been declared, no borders have been crossed by marching troops, no missiles have been fired.
If the press is awaiting a declaration of war before it imposes the self-discipline of combat conditions, then I can only say that no war ever posed a greater threat to our security. If you are awaiting a finding of “clear and present danger,” then I can only say that the danger has never been more clear and its presence has never been more imminent.

It requires a change in outlook, a change in tactics, a change in missions–by the government, by the people, by every businessman or labor leader, and by every newspaper. For we are opposed around the world by a monolithic and ruthless conspiracy that relies primarily on covert means for expanding its sphere of influence–on infiltration instead of invasion, on subversion instead of elections, on intimidation instead of free choice, on guerrillas by night instead of armies by day. It is a system which has conscripted vast human and material resources into the building of a tightly knit, highly efficient machine that combines military, diplomatic, intelligence, economic, scientific and political operations.

Its preparations are concealed, not published. Its mistakes are buried, not headlined. Its dissenters are silenced, not praised. No expenditure is questioned, no rumor is printed, no secret is revealed. It conducts the Cold War, in short, with a war-time discipline no democracy would ever hope or wish to match.Nevertheless, every democracy recognizes the necessary restraints of national security–and the question remains whether those restraints need to be more strictly observed if we are to oppose this kind of attack as well as outright invasion.
For the facts of the matter are that this nation’s foes have openly boasted of acquiring through our newspapers information they would otherwise hire agents to acquire through theft, bribery or espionage; that details of this nation’s covert preparations to counter the enemy’s covert operations have been available to every newspaper reader, friend and foe alike; that the size, the strength, the location and the nature of our forces and weapons, and our plans and strategy for their use, have all been pinpointed in the press and other news media to a degree sufficient to satisfy any foreign power; and that, in at least in one case, the publication of details concerning a secret mechanism whereby satellites were followed required its alteration at the expense of considerable time and money.
The newspapers which printed these stories were loyal, patriotic, responsible and well-meaning. Had we been engaged in open warfare, they undoubtedly would not have published such items. But in the absence of open warfare, they recognized only the tests of journalism and not the tests of national security. And my question tonight is whether additional tests should not now be adopted.

The question is for you alone to answer. No public official should answer it for you. No governmental plan should impose its restraints against your will. But I would be failing in my duty to the nation, in considering all of the responsibilities that we now bear and all of the means at hand to meet those responsibilities, if I did not commend this problem to your attention, and urge its thoughtful consideration.
On many earlier occasions, I have said–and your newspapers have constantly said–that these are times that appeal to every citizen’s sense of sacrifice and self-discipline. They call out to every citizen to weigh his rights and comforts against his obligations to the common good. I cannot now believe that those citizens who serve in the newspaper business consider themselves exempt from that appeal.

I have no intention of establishing a new Office of War Information to govern the flow of news. I am not suggesting any new forms of censorship or any new types of security classifications. I have no easy answer to the dilemma that I have posed, and would not seek to impose it if I had one. But I am asking the members of the newspaper profession and the industry in this country to reexamine their own responsibilities, to consider the degree and the nature of the present danger, and to heed the duty of self-restraint which that danger imposes upon us all.

Every newspaper now asks itself, with respect to every story: “Is it news?” All I suggest is that you add the question: “Is it in the interest of the national security?” And I hope that every group in America–unions and businessmen and public officials at every level– will ask the same question of their endeavors, and subject their actions to the same exacting tests.
And should the press of America consider and recommend the voluntary assumption of specific new steps or machinery, I can assure you that we will cooperate whole-heartedly with those recommendations.
Perhaps there will be no recommendations. Perhaps there is no answer to the dilemma faced by a free and open society in a cold and secret war. In times of peace, any discussion of this subject, and any action that results, are both painful and without precedent. But this is a time of peace and peril which knows no precedent in history.

It is the unprecedented nature of this challenge that also gives rise to your second obligation–an obligation which I share. And that is our obligation to inform and alert the American people–to make certain that they possess all the facts that they need, and understand them as well–the perils, the prospects, the purposes of our program and the choices that we face.

No President should fear public scrutiny of his program. For from that scrutiny comes understanding; and from that understanding comes support or opposition. And both are necessary. I am not asking your newspapers to support the Administration, but I am asking your help in the tremendous task of informing and alerting the American people. For I have complete confidence in the response and dedication of our citizens whenever they are fully informed.
I not only could not stifle controversy among your readers–I welcome it. This Administration intends to be candid about its errors; for as a wise man once said: “An error does not become a mistake until you refuse to correct it.” We intend to accept full responsibility for our errors; and we expect you to point them out when we miss them.

Without debate, without criticism, no Administration and no country can succeed–and no republic can survive. That is why the Athenian lawmaker Solon decreed it a crime for any citizen to shrink from controversy. And that is why our press was protected by the First Amendment– the only business in America specifically protected by the Constitution- -not primarily to amuse and entertain, not to emphasize the trivial and the sentimental, not to simply “give the public what it wants”–but to inform, to arouse, to reflect, to state our dangers and our opportunities, to indicate our crises and our choices, to lead, mold, educate and sometimes even anger public opinion.

This means greater coverage and analysis of international news–for it is no longer far away and foreign but close at hand and local. It means greater attention to improved understanding of the news as well as improved transmission. And it means, finally, that government at all levels, must meet its obligation to provide you with the fullest possible information outside the narrowest limits of national security–and we intend to do it.

It was early in the Seventeenth Century that Francis Bacon remarked on three recent inventions already transforming the world: the compass, gunpowder and the printing press. Now the links between the nations first forged by the compass have made us all citizens of the world, the hopes and threats of one becoming the hopes and threats of us all. In that one world’s efforts to live together, the evolution of gunpowder to its ultimate limit has warned mankind of the terrible consequences of failure.

And so it is to the printing press–to the recorder of man’s deeds, the keeper of his conscience, the courier of his news–that we look for strength and assistance, confident that with your help man will be what he was born to be: free and independent.



No Shit Sherlock

Wiss out De Edge

Put this in the back of your mind.

If you have one…

Not a mind but a front or back.

Up or down. White or black.

How you gonna tell where the truth is at?

Fiction or fact?

Round earth or flat?

And what do you say when she says okay…

Do I look too fat in this dress?

You Have No Idea What You Don’t Care About


Who gives a shit about baby turtles?

Stupid little shells litter the beach…

Who gives two shits about a wee bitta graft?

And all of the oaths those freaks breach?

Who cares if voting’s fixed?

The lottery’s a sham?

Let ’em program me,

I don’t give a damn!

What if diamonds and oil and debt

As you’ll see,

Were as fakely invented as all currency?

What if sports were rigged?

Wars were jigged?

You were frigged

Outa of your earnings for no good reason?

Would you scratch your chin and hmmm?

Or would you exit the room

To leave that thought alone looming

At a now vacant event horizon?



Another’s Dimension Ain’t My Dimension


Who pissed on the floor?!

Yelled the janitor.

Goddamn bastard’s are rude!

Yelled the manager.

Budget’s toast, you’re the cleaner now.

Whispered the owner in the manager’s ear.

Tell the janitor that we wish him well but

Still, say he’s outa here.

Well, mister manager fumed.

He’d been himself corn broomed.

Now he had to dust the janitor.

A manager can be so unsanitary…

But, shit rolls downhill and

Someone pays the bill and

Be damned if that someone was him!


There’s A Show

You be watching the janitor.

The hat check girl.

The ork-est-tree.

You are missing the moo, ooh, vee.

The di-reck-tor.

The set director.

The story line if

You have time and

Not many audience do.

The Nine Three Society and What It Means to You – Investigating with Quinn Michaels


Why I Lie

The Tooth Fairy is a lying bitch and

Santa’s a lying sack of shit.

The Easter Bunny is a sideways fuck and

The Sandman can suck on it.

They lied, they lied and they goddamn lied!

This wasn’t on sale!

It’s regular price!

Lying isn’t just mandatory

Lying is the spice

Of life, no?


Authors Who Overuse Profanity

Ima write this story with

No swear words.

No saying f*ck.

No saying duck.

No saying asterisk.

No saying pr*ick. (whoops)

No saying sh*t and

No f*ck it.

Don’t be saying a*shole or

Writing stupid c*nt.

That reveals

A no talent motherf*cker and

A rather obnoxious coonster.

Say It

Fuck your bitten tongue!

Spit that bullshit out!

You will loose your voice if you

Do not shout!

Say what it’s about!

Organize your clout!

You can change the whole damn game!

Wipe out any doubt!


The Overridden

To a point he was smart and

Beyond that, motherfucker

Was as stupid as fuck.

At that point he’s outa luck.

You better jump back outa his muck.

You get smacked with some unalive stuff.

Grazed by a bullet.

Hit by a truck.

Like I said, dude’s outa luck.

And y’stand in for his stroke?

Bovine Skatology

He wouldn’t say shit if

His mouth was full of it and he

Reeked of all purdy and nice.

But fall down in front of him

Or brighten your light to dim

And brother, that fuck wouldn’t think twice.

He’d fall on you like winter

Until he got inter

Your warmest and coziest place.

And then ask him to leave,

He’d gain his reprieve

By inventing another disgrace.

Molecules Of Piss

If you had a bright light

At the base

Of your personal gruntin’ throne.

You would notice something that

Few men consent to own.

No diligence on how straight you pee

Would let you see

A sparkle free wee.


Is just like that.

You swing that bat.

You hear that crack!

But don’t look back.

Cause that crack

Isa back stop catcher’s heaven.



Everyone Is Acting

Bitch was nice until familiar.

She kinda lied alot and

Could easily be caught

Picking her nose.

She was one of those

Bitches I suppose

Who could not close

What she fucking knows

Is a pie hole big enough to drown a horse.

Which, of course

She would do

If it would put her through

To the front of the line

Where she would whine

This ain’t close enough to the front!


Smarm Smarm Smarmy

He was sincerely not interested.

Smiled that fake smile.

And man he could praise til

That praise rose your bile.

He was an itch in your

Trigger finger.

Waitin’ to be scratched.

And the plans he was planning

Couldn’t wait to be hatched.

Infection. Dejection. If they aren’t unveiled.

Misery. You will see.

Who will be hailed.

Not you man.

So don’t plan.

A billowing sail.

He listens even tho he hears not.


The Damned

Do and you are fucked.

Don’t and you are fucked.

Hope you like being fucked…

Fucked is where you live.

A fuck is what you give.

Look what you done did!

You are but a fib.

Ina liar’s crib.

Getta usedta it…

Da basten bama thermography isa fakery!


Waste Not Want Not And Other Bullshite

The mosquito don’t care about your blood supply.

The mosquito, he just wants blood.

Cows don’t fret the yellowing grass.

Cows just chew their cud.

Dogs ain’t runnin’ short of arses to sniff.

Dogs know everybody got one.

We must relearn that life has no edge.

And saving isn’t how it’s done.






Bite your tongue and

Keep your pie hole shut.

You ain’t changin’ shit

What, what, what… what?

You are a babysitter.

Babysitting babies.

Babies gonna shit their pants

No if, ands, or maybe’s.

Open up their diapers and

Lookit all their poop.

Do the same tomorrow and

Mayhaps you’ll get the scoop

That babies, they cry and

Man, do they poop!

Words Or Swords, What’s It Gonna Be?

You runnin’ off at the mouth

Or your fists?

Are you puttin’ up or down a fight?

Do you spread darkness?

Makin’ up some bad?

Dontcha ever think of flight?

Make a gangland symbol.

Spread your shit around.

Tell a little story by the

Color of the ground.

They might get the picture.

They might admit defeat.

Doncha buy in to it.

This is their retreat.

Gonna hafta bold ’em.

Make it sickly sweet.

They will belly up.

They will come and eat.


Life: Easy To Learn. Difficult To Master.

GO! if you must and

You must!

Get up and get at’em.

Come at and combat ’em!

They’ll stop if you stop ’em.

But you have to stop stopping.

(But don’t stop on ’em)

Keep hitting this and

Keep hitting that and

Won day you’ll meet

Your master.

Tip. Your. Hat.

Familiarity, You Son-Of-A-Bitch!

Why you hate this place you live?

Why it give

You so much grief?

No belief that things are bound to change?

Maybe rearrange those ingredients.


Wash and rinse and


It all gets better tomorrow.

Boiling People

He gripped them gently.

Drove not Bently.

Oh, so friendly!

Then the bastard lied to their face.

Bastard did this sans disgrace!

He could do this anyplace!

Smile, and turn on a dime…


No, You Can’t Prevent Forrest Fires.

Fuck Smokie The Bear!

Fucking Smokie knows bare

Faced lies when he sees ’em.

Smokie’s our friend.

To the bitter end.

Smoke says lick ’em

If ya got ’em.

Lick ’em out!

Love A Mile Wide And One Inch Deep Is Good

“Whose it gonna be?”

“Your husband or your sister?”

Said the mother fucker holding a gun.

I love my husband but average says

He’s gonna die before me.

Says mom.

My sister and I could take cruises and such.

My husband wantsa couchie coo.

Me, I’d love ta see the world if I could

So do, do him quick,

I beg you!



If There’s A Hell Ima Be Da Bess Imp

Hey you there by the door man.

Do you think we’ve hit the floor man?

Is anyone keeping score man?

Or is it captain’s rules?

And are we the fools?

Just lay some plank

And we walk it?

Is this still your boat

If we rock it?

Or is this sheep to shore.

And there will be no more

Lighthousin’ and flare rockets?

Maybe check both front’n back pockets.

Cause we can’t swim what’s about to begin,

Gonna need non puncturing lockets!