At night they circle the campfire
Calling to one another
This one is mine
He's ripe for the plucking
Heads he's mine
Tails he's yours
You always get the head
Aaaah but the tail is where the meat is
Howl a song for me
You know the one about the headless camper
They laugh and howl and chase each others tall tales
With further tales of flesh and consumption
Suddenly the mood changes and the laughter dies
A far more serious tone envelops them
Like the fog it comes upon them silently
It pervades the prey almost sinister
Did you see him?
He's still moving
I don't need to see
I smell his fear
He won't get far......
May 21, 2010
My inbox keeps me awake at night. I am not comforted in the knowledge that tripling the size of my penis will save dolphins from being slaughtered in Japan; gluten-free jelly donut recipes bring on paralysis, and offers of friendship and requests for money lull me into a stupor of inaction. There is the starving child homeless in Haiti and I can’t believe there are so many people like me who cannot find just 5 minutes a day to respond to her cries for help, but my sleepless nights seesaw with skeletal images of this poor child, and then there is the poor man in Nigeria, a former prince actually, who was left this rather large sum of money by a distant relative. He needs my help - I know it sounds incredible, but he plans to share his enormous fortune with me, and I barely know the man, but since he cannot collect this princely sum without my help, I must step up and be a man because there is help with erections, and a man with erections can always help because there are insanely low interest rates that only online banks in Eastern Europe can offer to people like me, which is why I must invest in tomorrow today with the help of other people like me. There are even points I can collect if I sign up now because people really do like me, I know this for a fact; everyday I receive requests for my friendship from high school chums I cant even remember, but however foggy my memory of these friends are, I know that I am so blessed for a limited time, as I can now purchase gingko for wholesale prices, God knows I need to save my pennies, because for pennies a day I can change a life, and you can too, so reach out and touch the life of someone like Mali, who lives in a small village in Africa, ( did you know it takes a village to raise a child?), and Mali needs more than just my beer money for mosquito nets, which he must have or he will for sure catch malaria, SARS, bird flu, the clap; maybe Mali will die from HIV like his poor mother, Madonna, who left Mali an orphan. It is no wonder I cannot sleep. How do I get the image of my new friend Nikki69 and her triple DDD size breasts out of my head? She wants to follow me on Twitter, because.....well, people like me.