The Blue Room
Woe to those
Who take the "Blue Room"
Woe to you
Woe to me
Woe to the ghosts
You're about to meet
A women torn to shreds
A guy who lost his mind
Because he couldn't pay his rent
The ghosts of those
Who were trapped in this room
Who relive their agony
You can see their specters loom
You can feel the rage
Of those who met a fiery grave
If they offer you the "Blue Room"
You won't be alive to sue!
Someone Else’s Dime
Let's get rich off someone else's dime
Why not? Politicians do it all the time
If you're rich enough
You can buy your way out of any crime
While the poor are destined to die
Society is crumbling
And you can't understand why!!!
Postcards From Avici Hell
Angie took a hit off her marijuana cigarette.
"Where's the toilet paper?!" her friend, Samuel shouted from the bathroom, "What am I supposed to wipe my ass with?!"
Angela picked up a bible, and tossed it across the hallway. "Use this!"
As she cranked up the radio, a huge metallic buttefly plucked her from her chair. "What's in this cigarette?! I must be having a bad trip!"
Samuel followed the trail of blood to the cellar door. "Angela, where are you?! What the fuck happened?!"
She awoke in a city surrounded by iron walls, and flaming towers. Iron snakes coiled around her feet. She fainted as an enormous metal dog with a flaming pitchfork in its mouth ran towards her.
"There you are!" Samuel shouted, as Angela emerged from the cellar. "What the fuck have you been smoking?!"
She collapsed onto the foor naked. On her left buttcheek was a tattoo dripping in blood, and pus that spelled out, "Property of Avici Hell!"
Edith was obsessed with puzzles. Her closet was filled to capacity with different kinds of puzzles. She did little else after her knee replacement.
She awoke to a rap at the door. "Who could it be this early in the morning?" she wondered, as she grabbed her cane.
Someone had left a jigsaw puzzle on her front porch. It was wrapped in a bow covered with smily faces.
Edith cleared the kitchen table. She eagerly pieced the puzzle together. She shrieked as she noticed that the background of the puzzle appeared to be her room. The image in the center of the puzzle was her standing next to a portal that said, "Welcome Home!"
The Day God Called
"Sure, I'll go back to church, and even apologize to the pastor, if god calls," I rolled my eyes. "I'll give him to 11:59 P.M. I got the phone next to me. I'll be sure to answer every call."
I sat down, and proceeded to work on my novel.
At 7:17 P.M. the telephone rang. It emitted a whitish-gold glow as it rang.
"Nice parlor trick!" I shouted across the hall to my husband. "I still don't believe!"
I answered the phone on the seventh ring. Before I could respond, a strange frequency emitted from the other end of the line.
I screamed as a huge wormhole opened in my living room. An old hag with maggots slithering out of her eye sockets emerged from the portal. She appeared to be a spider from the waist down.
A thunderous voice boomed from within every vent in my house. "Now, do you believe in my existence?!"
I stood frozen in shock as the half-hag, half-spider creature snatched me up, and took me into the portal...
The Neighborhood Joke
You think you're so big, and tough?
You fat slob, you don't have any teeth
You hustle, and do immoral things for money
You're the joke of the town
Your always drunk, and slur your words
You don't even wash your clothes
Inbred hillbilly, you're dumb as a stone
The devil would make a better neighbor than you
Blast your music, bring drugs, and prostitutes
You take meth, and stay up late
For days, your paranoid, and hallucinate
The meth must have killed any brains cells you had
Filthy hoarder, you make our neighborhood look bad
The meth will take you in a few years
Pock-marked, and nasty, your face looks like a babboon's rear end
I don't associate with lowlife scum
Cats will sprout wings before I will ever be your friend!
Mommy Buys My Groceries
Mommy buys Bob's groceries
So he can go do meth
Lives off his wife's disability
Moved his drug-dealer in so he can use more often
Beer cans piled for several feet
White powder under his nose
"I snort pills, do weed, and meth," he boasts
He doesn't wash his clothes, and smells like raw ass
Parties for days, and slurs his speech
Too lazy to work, his dick he can't reach
I'm 55, and mommy still buys my groceries
It's time to put on our tinfoil hats
I'm not paranoid; are you blind?
The government is trying to read our mind
They'll beam words into your skull
You'll have no control at all
MK Ultra, CIA
Has developed a telepathic ray
QK Hilltop, and mind erase
Human guinea pigs promote psychosis
"It's a boy!" the nurse said, as she placed the baby in its mother's arms.
Richard's eyes filled with tears, as he grapsed the tiny hand of his newborn son. The baby had a thin layer of wispy golden-brown hair, and green eyes. "His nose looks just like Rosa's."
Later that evening, Richard met his friends at the local bar to celebrate. "This is my son, Adam," he said, as he passed the pictures around to his friends.
Clarence became very pale, and his hands began to tremble.
"Are you O.K., man?" Rick inquired.
"He's probably just drunk," Leroy said.
"I-I've got to confess something," Clarence whispered to Rick. The two men found a quiet section of the bar to talk.
"I don't think the baby is yours," Clarence held his head down, "I've been fooling around with your wife. Look, I'm sorry. I've been so lonely. It never should have happened."
"You're my brother!" Rick shouted, "You betrayed me!" He dumped his mug of beer in Clarence's face.
Rick grabbed his brother by the shirt, and before he could throw a punch, one of his friends hopped off the bar stool to intervene,
"Break it up!" Steven demanded, holding the two men back.
"This isn't over!" Rick shouted.
Rick insisted that his wife needed to get a DNA test done on the baby. She finally admitted to the affair.
The test results proved that Clarence was the father.
Rick sobbed into his beer, and began to chant. He slashed his forearm, and emptied the blood into the talisman his gypsy grandmother gave him. "Say goodbye, Clarence."
A couple nights later, a large hairy man offered Clarence a beer.
"Sure man, why not."
The obese stranger sat down next to him. His clothes were grungy, and his beard was covered in mucus. The hairy man leaned over, and whispered loudly in Clarence's ear. Do you know what?!"
"Tanuki!" the large, hairy man shape-shifted into a gigantic dog, and sat down on Clarence, crushing him with his enormous testicles.
Bartender From Hell
“Hey, I never noticed this place before,” Ted said, as he glanced up at the red-brick building.
“Lucifer’s,” was spelled out in yellow flourescent lights. Pictures of nude women were plastered all over the door.
“That’s strange,” Ted thought to himself, “This bar is only open from 3 a.m. - 6 a.m. How do they make any money?”
“Give me the best beer you got.” He handed the beautiful, scantily dressed woman a twenty dollar bill.
“We don’t accept this currency,” she glared at him.
“O.K., what do you accept? Foreign currency? Cryptocurrency?” Ted inquired.
“You’ve got to solve this problem,” the bartender winked at him, and flashed her boobs. “What is the cosine of 69?”
“O.K., I’ll play along,” Ted though about it for a moment. “I’m not sure. Is it 13?”
“Sorry,” she said.
A trap door opened underneath Ted’s bar stool, and he fell into a spiked pit.
“How much for a gin, and tonic?” Jack asked.
“You’ve got to solve a little problem for me,” the bartender teased, as she revealed part of her crotch.
“Anything for you!” Jack’s eyes lit up.
“What’s the tangent of 666?”
“That’s easy,” Jack replied, “It’s -1.4″
The bartender handed him his drink.
“But I didn’t pay for this yet,” Jack said.
“Oh, yes, you did,” she winked. “You can order as many drinks as you want tonight.”
The next morning, Jack woke up in a fog. He rubbed his eyes, stretched, and glanced in the mirror. “What the fuck?!”
His reflection had changed. He had transformed into a pimply-faced nerd, wearing glasses, and a pocket protector.
The phone rang. He checked the caller ID, and three sixes came up on the screen. “Hello?”
He heard hideous laughter, followed by the bartender’s voice. “You will never get laid again!”