2 Emails. . .God, I’m so pathetic!!

2 Emails?. . .You got to be kidding. . .and “junkmail” for bitchin’ out loud!  God, I’m so pathetic!!

Email #1:  Timeshare?

Okay, I don’t have time to share.

Email #2:  Geico Insurance

Okay, my car is as old as an Oldsmobile (I think that’s the way you spell it?).  So if my car gets hit, I’ll probably be doing it a favor by putting it out of its misery.

Today is Friday. . .and I love Rebecca Black’s “Friday” video.  Sure her voice is a bit whiney. . .mechanical. . .and everyone seems to dislike her but with over 52 million views to her vid I’m sure she’s laughing (or crying somewhere)!

Today I woke up feeling fat. . .


. . .so leave me the fuck alone!  Okay.


But hey, enjoy my poem!






Fat Mama

Sexy Mama

Can’t fit in my jeans, Mama

Shut up, Devlin, and have another donut!


There. End of poem.  Now go away. . .:(

Politics and Prostitution…rant & poem

Well another day, and nothing really to say or add except for America is going to hell in a handbag!  The fiscal cliff keeps cliffing.  Political differences and issues are now threatning the FDA to go on furlough so the cost of meat, poultry, vegetables, eggs, milk, etc. etc. are all going to sky rocket in prices if nothing is resolved by March 1st, so stock up.  Government employees are facing potential pink slips.  Just the other day I saw a sign screaming “Depression Rates”.  And one of my kuzis (I think that’s the way you spell ‘Kuzi’?) once read:  “It’s a Recession when the other guy loses his job.  It’s a Depression when you lose yours.” 

You know the Mayans never predicted that the world was ever going to end (thank Hollywood for that) but merely predicted big changes were to come.  So are they here now?  Where is Nostradamus by the way, or Superman for that matter? 

Need to go back and see Phil Collins/Genesis videos.

In the meantime here’s another poem. . .this one dedicated to the Sexual Politics of America!  Enjoy!




The Prostitute


Across the conferences she lays to bade foreign

nations wielding pens mightier than swords

bleed the predatorial beast beneath red-top masses;


the sovereign of exchanged currencies

exorcising their gluttonies within her are but

a mere promised farce, an anti-cleansing of impure hands-


she is the shameless populace of God’s right hand,

the echo of a prostituted nation

for at his feet, she weeps