Stufflegroat the communist elf
upon a tiny grey sea
aboard a wee little boat
lived the communist elf
known as Tom Stufflegroat
many years in the past
Tom had well riled
that fat old Santa
and was soon exiled
It started off small
chats with the neighbors
did the Claus unduly
exploit all their labors?
But his talk of unions
got the fat man’s attention
Santa made the jobs
he would brook no dissension
Claus was the all
Stufflegroat was a cancer
the cure was a beating
from Blitzen and Prancer
Followed by exile
to the distant grey sea
busted and battered
but finally free
He built a rude schooner
painted it yellow
as the time passed
he soon found his mellow
his only companion
was a mute buffalo
they spent their days
peddling bootleg snow
Tom thought he ‘n’ Santa
would be forever estranged,
until that fateful morning
when everything changed
Tom sat at breakfast
which was coffee and gin
his buffalo devoured
buffalo chow from a tin
when out on the deck
there arose a huge clatter
Tom idly thought about
checking into the matter
The cabin door shattered
revealing a fat man in red
he strode in and stated
“Stufflegroat, you’re dead”
Santa had come!
after ten long years
he’d not brought presents
only thuggish reindeer
“Typical Santa”
Tom noted drily
“In private a douche,
but in public all smiley”
“Cut the crap, commie’
Santa replied
“production is down,
I blame you for the slide”
“You were the elf
hated jolly and jingles
instead spent your time
with Marx and Engels”
“You told all your pals
my platitudes were lies
they could never be free
without the right to organize”
“about your dangerous ideas
the trouble revolved
I’d hoped banishment
would mean problem solved”
but the elves did listen
the bastards remember:
they’ve been on strike
since mid-september!”
At news of the strike
Tom’s heart filled with gladness
but his happy smile
only stoked Santa’s madness
“Christmas may be cancelled
it’s all come disjointed
the elves now claim
their labor’s exploited”
“I won’t let dirty pinkos,
my empire trample
Stufflegroat, prepare
to be made an example”
The cabin went silent
Time seemed to slow
when suddenly a noise
from the mute buffalo
the beast had never spoken
not so much as a squeak
but in the tense stillness
it began to speak
Tom was quite stunned
as was the killer in red
in tremulous voice
the buffalo said;
“he’s got a gun oh god oh god oh shit help me somebody help me please help oh god oh god”
The buffalo panicked
Tom hit the floor
Santa was kicked
straight out the door
Into his reindeers
old Santa did flail
and then the whole gang
went over the rail
“save me I’m drowning”
the fat man cried
but Tom was unmoved
and so Santa died
Tom ordered a poster
from printers in Atlanta
it had a picture of the buffalo,
and said “this machine kills santas”
all copyrights and lefts to JB Lee
Varcitos
varcitos
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
did i tell you i might be coming down in april? right around your birthday time
7:37 PM me: cool! we can go to busch gardens!
Sara: wooo
i want to go to weeki wachee. i've never been there
if it's even still open
me: they had to lay-off the mermaids
7:38 PM it was so sad
all the mermaids, just flopping around on the side of the road
gasping for air
then they died
so sad
Sara: ...
whut
no
NOOOOOO
7:39 PM me: it was like splash, but sad, and in florida, and no plot
john candy wasn't in it
7:37 PM me: cool! we can go to busch gardens!
Sara: wooo
i want to go to weeki wachee. i've never been there
if it's even still open
me: they had to lay-off the mermaids
7:38 PM it was so sad
all the mermaids, just flopping around on the side of the road
gasping for air
then they died
so sad
Sara: ...
whut
no
NOOOOOO
7:39 PM me: it was like splash, but sad, and in florida, and no plot
john candy wasn't in it
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Monday, September 8, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
blocked by craigslist!
Hello, I am writing from Clearwater, on my "Internet" machine, and I wish to update you my quest for the magical fruit known as the coco-plum.
As you may recall, my last post [ http://tampa.craigslist.org/m4w/729097728.html ] described how I used "Internet" to hack into the memoirs of a dead kidnapper, and discovered therein a most intriguing anecdote regarding the magical fruit of the coco-plum tree. I posted this on craigslist's personals section in hopes of picking up bangin' chicks for meaningful relationships.
First, I would like to thank all those who responded with well wishes and advice. A few personal responses:
Marti - when speaking of the coco-plum, never put " " around the word "magic". It diminishes our heritage, and by extension, the fruit. Also, get some sleep.
Robin - you do not know the full extent of my obsessions. But they certainly don't extend to a drive to Homestead. Not for some stupid fruit anyways. HOWEVER, if I were to find an accessible patch within reasonable walking distance, I could practice both freeganism and carbon neutrality, and if trespassing is involved, it would make me a true DOUBLE CRUNCHY OUTLAW, which is equivalent to three (3) facial piercings and a tribal tattoo. So yeah, eat local, blah blah blah. Also, I would give you the secrets of the Olmecs, but, frankly, if it isn't on the FCAT, you're not gonna teach it.
Jenni - : )
Mary and Lucy - you are robots
Karen - Perhaps not so SOL as you think... which brings me to my news
I have discovered disputable Internet proof that coco-plums exist in Pinellas county! Behold!
http://davesgarden.com/guides/pf/go/67612/
I proceeded to discover that Oldsmar is named after the Olmecs! who knew? (yes, yes)
Furthermore, I have discovered science! Scientists in remote Brazilia have been running extracts of the plant through their various science mills, and have reported:
Heartened by this news, I now command the Internet to find my lazy ass some coco-plums. Use that cloud computing stuff.
Thanks again in advance.
As you may recall, my last post [ http://tampa.craigslist.org
First, I would like to thank all those who responded with well wishes and advice. A few personal responses:
Marti - when speaking of the coco-plum, never put " " around the word "magic". It diminishes our heritage, and by extension, the fruit. Also, get some sleep.
Robin - you do not know the full extent of my obsessions. But they certainly don't extend to a drive to Homestead. Not for some stupid fruit anyways. HOWEVER, if I were to find an accessible patch within reasonable walking distance, I could practice both freeganism and carbon neutrality, and if trespassing is involved, it would make me a true DOUBLE CRUNCHY OUTLAW, which is equivalent to three (3) facial piercings and a tribal tattoo. So yeah, eat local, blah blah blah. Also, I would give you the secrets of the Olmecs, but, frankly, if it isn't on the FCAT, you're not gonna teach it.
Jenni - : )
Mary and Lucy - you are robots
Karen - Perhaps not so SOL as you think... which brings me to my news
I have discovered disputable Internet proof that coco-plums exist in Pinellas county! Behold!
http://davesgarden.com/guides
I proceeded to discover that Oldsmar is named after the Olmecs! who knew? (yes, yes)
Furthermore, I have discovered science! Scientists in remote Brazilia have been running extracts of the plant through their various science mills, and have reported:
"[We] investigated the antiangiogenic potential of Chrysobalanus icaco methanol extract..The results showed an average of 44% angiogenesis inhibition in CAM areas with the plant extract compared to the controls. The data indicate that C. icaco methanol extract reduce the formation of new blood vessels in chicken chorioallantoic membrane."
This means that coco-plums get you completely high.Heartened by this news, I now command the Internet to find my lazy ass some coco-plums. Use that cloud computing stuff.
Thanks again in advance.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
I have discovered a new substitue for cocaine!
I am reading the autobiography of a man who kidnapped Native American women and children for a living.
Pamphlets By Samuel Roffey Maitland
After bonding with the Native Americans over meals of snapper turtle and raw bear meat, he realises the error of his ways, frees the captives, and leads the Seminoles in battle against the greedy developers...
ha ha, just kidding, they happily sell them off in Fort Myers
Our hero heads back to do some more kidnapping, this time in the everglades. Which leads us to this curious passage...
I see...
the plant is now used mostly as a shrub and ornamental, also grows wild across southern Florida.
also, the seeds are oily enough to be used as candles.
and furthermore...
A New Voyage Round the World ... By William Dampier, James Knapton
I CAN, WILL AND MUST SEEK OUT THIS MAGICAL COCAINE FIRE CANDY FRUIT THAT IS FIT TO FUCK RATHER THAN BITE, AND COMES RECOMMENDED BY BOTH A FRENCHMAN AND A CALLOUS KIDNAPPER OF INDIANS. As soon as it stops raining.
Pamphlets By Samuel Roffey Maitland
After bonding with the Native Americans over meals of snapper turtle and raw bear meat, he realises the error of his ways, frees the captives, and leads the Seminoles in battle against the greedy developers...
ha ha, just kidding, they happily sell them off in Fort Myers
Our hero heads back to do some more kidnapping, this time in the everglades. Which leads us to this curious passage...
I see...
the plant is now used mostly as a shrub and ornamental, also grows wild across southern Florida.
also, the seeds are oily enough to be used as candles.
and furthermore...
A New Voyage Round the World ... By William Dampier, James Knapton
I CAN, WILL AND MUST SEEK OUT THIS MAGICAL COCAINE FIRE CANDY FRUIT THAT IS FIT TO FUCK RATHER THAN BITE, AND COMES RECOMMENDED BY BOTH A FRENCHMAN AND A CALLOUS KIDNAPPER OF INDIANS. As soon as it stops raining.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
This started out as an underwater graffiti werewolf...
...an unfortunate soul, every full moon he (or she) not only turns into a wolf woman (or wolf man), but then must swim into the open ocean, and tag a fearsome shark (or shark). If they do not tag at least one shark before sunrise, they turn into an ottoman (or Turk).
The particular underwater graffiti werewolf I planned to draw had spray-painted a dirty word onto a basking shark. This basking shark was subsequently caught by the police fishing squad, and now the wolf man is a DOUBLE OUTLAW.
I can't draw double outlaws very well, so I just drew another stupid space monster, which will serve as a metaphor.
The particular underwater graffiti werewolf I planned to draw had spray-painted a dirty word onto a basking shark. This basking shark was subsequently caught by the police fishing squad, and now the wolf man is a DOUBLE OUTLAW.
I can't draw double outlaws very well, so I just drew another stupid space monster, which will serve as a metaphor.
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