Monday, August 26, 2024

Suck It Up

VERSE 1

When you drop bombs on your least favorite race

The whole world watches with tears on their face

When you cry Cancel Culture after the fact

It should be you in a coffin lying on your back

You never had to suffer like the ones you’ve killed

Just ask your billionaire daddies to pay all the bills

Sugar baby, crybaby, whatever you are

Take your insults on the chin like a boxing superstar

 

PRE-CHORUS

When we call you out on your disgusting violence

The Wahmbulance gets you, let’s flash the sirens

 

CHORUS

Suck it up! You’re guilty as charged!

Suck it up! Yet you’re still at large!

Suck it up! Answer for your sins!

Suck it up! It’s not a war you will win!

Suck it up!

 

VERSE 2

When you fire your gun at the poor and innocent

You better expect an international incident

A golden badge is not a shield from callouts

A precinct won’t save you from nuclear fallout

Your critics don’t have missiles to level the land

They’ve got two middle fingers, one in either hand

Maybe a brick if they’re feeling kind of froggy

A bloody concussion to make you feel groggy

 

CHORUS

Suck it up! You’re guilty as charged!

Suck it up! Yet you’re still at large!

Suck it up! Answer for your sins!

Suck it up! It’s not a war you will win!

Suck it up!

 

BRIDGE

A bruised ego or a rotting corpse?

Which one’s worse? The latter, of course

You play the victim and reverse criticism

Easy as pie, ‘cause you control the system

 

CHORUS

Suck it up! You’re guilty as charged!

Suck it up! Yet you’re still at large!

Suck it up! Answer for your sins!

Suck it up! It’s not a war you will win!

Suck it up!

Suck it up!

Suck it up!

Do the world a favor and shut the fuck up!

Saturday, August 24, 2024

Rainbow Ranch, Epilogue

If this had been a feast on any other day, Lucy would have wolfed her entire plate down in record time. Every meal after that would have seen that record broken tenfold with even more food on her plate. But ever since the events of the past few days, pork sausages and gravy-smothered turkey weren’t at the forefront of her thoughts. She started those few days as a skinny little weakling who would shake and shiver at the thought of being obliterated by a sorcerer’s fireball. The destruction of her once beloved tennis ball nearly sent her spiraling off the deep end. But ever since finding the latent courage she always knew she had, there was a major decision she had to make. Would she continue to channel that courage into her newfound role as a soldier in the Shut Up, Stupid Dog squadron or would she return to a life of comfort and belly rubs?

 

The Chiweenie warrior scanned her bulging paranoid-looking eyes across the dining hall and saw that most of her brethren had chosen to return to the comfortable lives they once had. Gone were their humanoid features. In their place were the animal bodies that made them charming and vulnerable in the first place. Cats and dogs sitting at the long dinner table and slurping up chunks of meat with their tongues instead of forks and knives. If they had lips, the sounds of wet smacking would echo throughout the castle. King James Gaines sat at the head of the table with his own plate of mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and ham slices. To his left was Razor Ripley, an ironic choice for a dinner guest considering skeletons literally didn’t have the guts to eat a gigantic meal. Ripley’s magic was responsible for changing the animal guests back to their original forms, so it was only right that he joined this celebration of victory.

 

Lucy couldn’t find it in her heart to blame these animals for choosing comfort over duty. Ozzie and Callie were well past their prime years and deserved to enjoy a bowl of broth together as the couple they once were. Loki had no business being involved in Harrison’s war at all, so to see him munching down on juicy steak was a long time coming. Every last member of the Shut Up, Stupid Dogs squadron never wanted to be a part of the war either; they were victims of circumstance. Rainbow Ranch was never meant to be a warring nation. It was built to be an animal’s paradise, a second chance for animals who never knew what love was. In Lucy’s mind, that all changed the minute King Harrison decided to bastardize what he and his brother worked so hard to create together. In Lucy’s mind…never again would this be allowed to happen…

 

“Something troubling you, Lucy?” asked King James. “Your plate has gone untouched throughout this entire event. This is your celebration. What ails you?”

 

And just like that, Lucy’s mind was made up. She hopped out of her golden chair and scampered over to where James and Ripley were sitting. She cleared her throat in her usual skittish manner, bowed to her masters, and stood up straight with her paws behind her back. “Your majesty, I have something to say. I want to continue fighting for the Shut Up, Stupid Dogs!”

 

James and Ripley’s eyes widened at the revelation, while the dogs and cats continued to munch on their meals like dogs and cats were always meant to do, no involvement in human affairs whatsoever. Ripley asked, “Are you sure this is what you want? You looked so terrified out on the battlefield, like you couldn’t wait to curl up next to the fireplace once it was all over. Why put yourself through such misery again?”

 

“it’s not miserable!” said Lucy defensively. “I believe in my homeland! I believe in everything we stand for! If another jumbo jerk like Harrison wants to take it from us, he’ll have to go through me!” She punctuated that sentence by jumping high in the air and raising her clenched paw. “I’ll teach the next generation of puppers everything I know about courage and strength! Together we can beat anything that comes our way! We’ll give them the old one, two, buckle your shoe!” The spinning motion was easier to do without her hammer, therefore she landed perfectly on her metal-booted feet.

 

“Your enthusiasm is a breath of fresh air, Lucy the Hammer,” complimented King James. “You do realize that training a new generation of animal warriors is a big responsibility, do you not? It takes a lot of patience, much more wisdom, and the heart of a champion. You’re putting an entire squadron’s lives on your shoulders, which means you’ll have so many expectations to not only meet, but exceed. Are you prepared to take on that role?”

 

“Yes, sir!” The overly-excited Lucy spun around in the air once again and landed like a graceful dancer. “Give me everything you’ve got, your majesty! Let me at ‘em! We’ll be the best squadron ever and nobody will beat us! All hail the Shut Up, Stupid Dogs!” James and Ripley’s shoulders sagged as though Lucy had said something wrong. “Huh?”

 

“About that name…” said Ripley. “It’s officially retired. It was a rather cruel way of keeping you and your brethren in line. You and your new recruits deserve so much better than to be yelled at by an old codger like me. We need something that represents the spunky spirit of our animal soldiers. Something uplifting. Something worthy of their new leader’s excitement and zest for life. Something like…The Tennis Ball Gang!”

 

Lucy and James looked at Ripley as though he had worms crawling out of his mouth, which were probably stuck in his brain somewhere to come up with an idea like that. “Hear me out, you two.” Ripley cleared his throat. “Lucy…that tennis ball was more than a toy for you. It represented something deep within your childlike soul. It represented all the positivity you had despite being placed in a terrible situation that was not of your own making. There were many sad times during your journey, but all they did was lock the positive spirit away until it was needed the most. And when that beloved tennis ball was destroyed in combat, you knew your enemy had made a grave mistake. That tennis ball wasn’t just a toy. It represented passion.”

 

King James patted Ripley’s bony hand. “The sentiment is not lost on me, but outside of our royal circle, no one would know what that meant. Suppose another enemy comes along and threatens our homeland. What if he hears the name Tennis Ball Gang and finds nothing but amusement?”

 

“Let them laugh, your majesty!” Lucy’s excitement took over once again. “Those buttheads can have all the comedy they want, but we’ll see if they’re still laughing after losing to a scared little Chiweenie! Nobody will live down taking a loss at the hands of The Tennis Ball Gang! We’ll be remembered forever! History teachers will love us! Our enemies will learn to fear us! And nobody will mess with our precious fur babies ever again!” Lucy spun around in the air even higher this time, once again sticking the landing like an athlete.

 

James and Ripley stared contemplatively at each other for a while before nodding in agreement. James stood up with a goblet of wine in hand, a proud declaration on the horizon. “Very well! If that’s what you desire the most, it shall be done! Lucy the Hammer, you are now the official captain of The Tennis Ball Gang! You and your charges will work with other squadrons to ensure the safety of our precious homeland! When we say never again, we mean never again! Congratulations, Lucy! An honor well-deserved! Cheers!”

 

As King James took a drink of his wine, Lucy ran circles around his ankles thanking him over and over again like she consumed a handful of pixie sticks. Excitement came naturally for Lucy no matter what the situation, but it all came rushing out at once at the prospect of this new role she had been given. It was indeed an exciting time to be alive. Rainbow Ranch really did give second chances and Lucy took full advantage of those opportunities. Even Razor Ripley couldn’t help but crack a proud grin knowing that his once weakest link was now his strongest ally.

 

What did the cats and dogs think of all this? Were they every bit as excited about this new era for Rainbow Ranch? Were they looking forward to a bright future where happiness was the norm and love ruled over all? Nah. They were more interested in chomping on their plates of meat and licking their own buttholes, not necessarily in that order. What a bunch of divas.

Friday, August 23, 2024

Spoon Feed

The yellow monkeys love to do kung fu

The curtains are blue, because they set the mood

The diamonds are red, they adorn your boobs

Some food for thought that’ll put you off food

 

What’s the matter? Didn’t make a lick of sense?

You’re a fickle motherfucker, always on the fence

Do you want to be fed with a silver spoon?

A jar of Gerber, hope your tummy has room

 

I can’t make heads or tails of my own symbolism

I threw it all together, ‘cause I thought I had a vision

Come to think of it, I need to be spoon fed too

Open up the hangar for an airplane or two

 

Open wide like you’re taking a trip to the dentist

Here’s an infodump to overload your senses

Dumping is something you do with your ass

Any wonder why we’re stuck in a middle school class?

 

I hope I’ve got an out, because I’m on the spectrum

I know it could never be a shield or a weapon

When the C+ stares into my eyes like a demon

I don’t get mad or rich, I want to get even

 

It’s me and my madness against the world

Some authors wear pentagrams, some authors wear pearls

How do I stand out a cut above the rest?

Do better on the scan sheet bubble filling test

 

But that shit don’t work, they just laugh

They always remind you to forge your own path

When tax time comes, you got to do your own math

They put you through the wringer, leave you crawling with your fingers

 

I don’t expect the world to know what it’s like

To feel like a stranger at an open mic night

To feel like puking at the thought of being famous

Keep thumbing your nose, go ahead and shame us

Tuesday, August 13, 2024

Circular Firing Squad

VERSE 1

So what if the bearded horse man was a little bit saucy

To the transphobic author who excuses the Nazis

He dragged her errand girl by her pretty silk stockings

Through a pit of coals, now the cops are body-chalking

The pantyhose looks better on the bird-loving femboy

Their fans use vibrators 'til their toys ain't making noise

Lights out! Guerrilla radio!

But enjoy the infighting, ‘cause the alt-right ain’t playing, yo

 

CHORUS

A circular firing squad

Is the best way to meet God

Fighting like children who were spared the rod

If only we could tell them corporal punishment is flawed

 

VERSE 2

While you fuckers are fighting over a bowl of ramen noodles

Uncle Clarence Thomas is collecting massive boodles

But wait, the whitest of white chicks was the chef

Now you’re putting out videos on why you left the left

You were never there before, the way you shit on addicts

Leaving them to fight in prison cells to see who is the baddest

Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!

That used to be us, but it’s bickering we’re selling

 

CHORUS

A circular firing squad

Is the best way to meet God

Fighting like children who were spared the rod

If only we could tell them corporal punishment is flawed

 

BRIDGE

They’re wholesome degenerates, not MAGA confederates

Step up to the plate, let’s see you do it better, bitch

You would crumble like crackers staring down the camera lens

You’ve got another eight hours until the livestream ends

 

VERSE 3

Hippie-dippie-Tippy, he’s a lover of good food

That ain’t insult comedy, your washed-up ass would get booed

Fatphobic jokes are the only kind you got

While your trad family’s roast beef is cooking in the pot

It’s not doxing if your name is in the paper

If anything, he did your cause a little bitty favor

Pistol grip pump on your lap at all times!

Let’s see if infighting turns into violent crimes

 

CHORUS

A circular firing squad

Is the best way to meet God

Fighting like children who were spared the rod

If only we could tell them corporal punishment is flawed

Wednesday, August 7, 2024

Get a Job

DIALOGUE

Tip? I’ve got a tip for you. Get a real job! Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk!

 

VERSE 1

You could hire me as your manicurist

To do the job right, I need to bind your wrists

Paint a nice blue coat over them fingertips

Stop itching your hands, that shit’s gonna rip

Except it wasn’t nail polish, not a single drop

It’s hydrofluoric acid, watch them bubbles pop

Look at your hands! They’re good as new

About as new as my diploma mill degree, dude

 

DIALOGUE

The best kind of social program is spelled J-O-B! Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk!

 

VERSE 2

You could hire me as your wife’s foot masseur

That could have been your role, but I’m much cuter

She can have a few glasses of red wine first

Wouldn’t want her to pass out from all the thirst

Put on some Michael Bolton and squirt some oil

Make her soles nice and soft, make her toes coil

She loves the feeling and it’s making her sing

And just like that, she lost her wedding ring

 

DIALOGUE

Get a job! The world doesn’t owe you a living! Hey, wait a minute…I’m all mixed up here…

 

VERSE 3

You could hire me as your personal chef

I’ll have you munching every bite until there’s nothing left

Word of advice: don’t ask for clam chowder

Unless you’ve got hemorrhoid cream and baby powder

You’ve been on the toilet for over a week

The whole damn house is starting to reek

I guess I’m entitled to some hazard pay

As your shiny red asshole rots and decays

 

DIALOGUE

That does it, boy! Your ass is fired! Why?! Because no one wants to work anymore! Hey, wait a minute…damn it, I got all mixed up again!