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Archive for the ‘Whatevers’ Category

Another childless Easter…

Half-duck, half-doggie
looks away, embarrassed ’bout
owner’s obloquy.

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Watch what happens when
smashed pumpkin meets tequila—
vi’lent vomitus.

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Don’t turn around!

Vic vill vanish like
an optical ’lusion in
disappearing dress.

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Love Is…CH Style #2

Love is giving up
a dirty old man just for
a grease covered sack.

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Esc’lating fatso,
shifting about nervously:
“Who farted?  Not me.”

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The publishing world
has hit lows of late: sales drop
and Sanjaya signs.

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Somewhere, a Hulk weeps
for a love lost while these two
keep on keepin’ on.

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Personal freedom
is like this cupcake—too much
can be bad for you.

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Pretty pathetic,
planting a puckered peck on
pooch’s proboscis.

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Wet and shivering,
the drownéd rat looks landward
’fore blow from behind.

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