Whoppers

You like to jerk it off to The Human Centipede

Shake your ass to Green Day’s “Know Your Enemy”

Give lap dances at your local retirement home

Knickknack, paddywack, eat your doggie’s bone

What’s the matter? You don’t like being defamed?

Don’t like shouldering someone else’s blame?

I heard that before, in fact, a million times over

Welcome to the world and its New World Odor

For every double whopper you’ve got about me

I’ve got a thousand more on you, bless creativity

You burglarize houses with a Darth Vader mask

“Use the force” and those who can’t even ask

But your light saber is the size of a toothpick

When it’s time to get it on, you’re fucking useless

You made a donation to the Humane Society

But it was criminal restitution for being rapey

You had to sell your collection of celebrity condoms

To make up for the debt and cut your own losses

Let’s upgrade that double whopper to a size triple

You get your cereal’s milk from your grandma’s nipple

Let’s go quadruple on your heart attack whopper

Or is this where you finally call the crime stoppers?

I wish I had that option when you lied about me

Freedom of speech has never been completely free

Maybe I’ll get you a ball gag for Christmas this year

Stick it in your mouth until the truth is loud and clear

I’ll get you some handcuffs for a stocking stuffer

No access to your keyboard, you’re grounded by mother

I know this all sounds a little creepy and kinky

But it keeps your bullshit from getting too stinky

Covered in Blood

I walk into battle covered in blood

Smelling like ashes, smelling like rum

Looking like the deep fried walking dead

Looking for relief from what’s in my head

I see you on the other side of the street

You could be a mirage from the heat

Or you could be laughing like a jackass

Earning your place among the maggots

I take a bite out of your delicious throat

More pig’s blood to cover me like a coat

Rip out your heart, hell, your whole ribcage

You scream like you’re three years of age

You’ve got some serious pipes for a wimp

Are you sure you don’t belong to a pimp?

If you can feel the pain, you’re still alive

Let’s turn up that shit to a hundred and five

Slurping down your brain through the sockets

Make you fuck your eyes with your own rocket

Pull out intestines and watch the shit flow

Share your corpse with the ravens and crows

The funny thing about this nutritious meal

I get dessert as part of the dinner deal

Who will suffice? Your daughter or wife?

Hell, they left your ass for a much better life

I’ll save my coupons for another day

More satisfying than Mickey D’s anyway

The king of burgers has nothing on this

Sweeter than the redheaded Wendy’s kiss

Pay you tomorrow for a carcass today

My belly is stuffed with violent decay

I burp like a fifteen megaton blast

Nickelodeon slime pouring from my ass

Until next time, try to enjoy the daylight

Try to make it fun, put up a better fight

Two-Sentence Horror Stories

Susan’s alarm clock went off at seven in the morning and she was slowly sitting up in her comfy beddy-bye. When her eyes finally adjusted to the glaring sunlight, she saw the Burger King mascot sitting next to her in bed where her ten-year-old daughter normally was.

Little Maria was playing in the sandbox by herself with her lovable stuffed rabbit and her Winnie the Pooh Pillow Pet. The shadow of a perverted old man in a trench coat appeared over her as he whispered the words, “I can’t wait until you turn 18!”

Stephanie McMahon’s relentless slaps across The Big Show’s face were stinging with orange hot pain. Big Show retaliated by clutching Stephanie’s throat, not to give her his patented choke slam, but to shove a date rape drug down her throat.

Mario ran as fast as his chubby body would carry him as he pilfered the golden key from the evilly grinning Phanto. The sinister mask finally caught up to him and with one monstrous chomp bit Mario’s ear off like Mike Tyson.

The baldheaded and bloodthirsty Calcobrena puppets came to life and started dancing like they were performing in the world’s scariest ballet. The urine stain in Cecil’s pants was so damp that he would need a Sham Wow to soak up the stale fluids.

Rosa curled in the corner and shivered as the disgusting and perverted Dr. Lugae slowly approached her. He leaned his disfigured face close to her tear-soaked face and said, “Are you wearing a Milk Duds bra?”

Wanderlei Silva was flipping through the pages of the ultra-sexy Ronda Rousey’s ESPN photo shoot magazine with Matt Brown looking over his shoulder. Wanderlei said, “Ronda sure looks good.” and Matt Brown replied with, “Tastes good too, bro!”

Tarja Turunen received her 501^st letter and it revealed a picture of her naked and butchered husband Marcelo Cabuli bound with chains and ball gagged. Below the picture were the words written in Floydian font: “Leave him for me…or else!”

G-Switch had been stripped naked and sprayed with a cold hose as his prison cell awaited him for what would be a life sentence. When it came time to give him his uniform, he didn’t get an orange jumpsuit, but a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader outfit instead.

The frightened and defenseless Tina huddled in the dark corner while her attacker slowly approached her with a club in his hand. The lights flickered on to reveal the assailant as Drew Carey in a black banana hammock, who went on to say, “Welcome to Who’s Life Is It Anyway, where everything’s made up and the points are as useless as your cries for help!”

Todd knelt and sobbed over the bloody remains of his butchered wife. The torturer put a hand on the poor husband’s shoulder and gave him some good news: “I just saved a bunch of money on car insurance by switching to Geico.”

Gail was called into the massage therapist’s office for what was sure to be a relaxing and joyful experience. That all changed when she found out her massage therapist was Jeffrey Dahmer, who just got off of his “lunch break” and was back on the clock.

Charles had just devoured a delicious Chinese meal of fried sole, egg drop soup, and creamed broccoli. When he opened his fortune cookie, the little strip of paper read, “Thank you for eating at Hannibal Lector’s Golden Grill.”

Dave had just been served a scrumptious plate of Chinese fried rice and pork chow mein by the lovely smiling waitress. When he asked for a fork, however, the waitress pulled one out of her apron and stabbed him in the hand repeatedly until the metal utensil went all the way through.

Staci was tied to the street post with sharp steel chains and gagged with a horse mask. The only people who would come to her rescue were religious protestors who were holding up rainbow-colored signs that said, “God hates gags.”

With a dirty old man in lingerie chasing her across the parking garage, Elizabeth tripped over her high heeled shoes and lost one of them in the process. When the old man got close enough, he went after the shoe instead and took a huge sniff of the fetishized footwear.

Ronald McDonald approached the checkout isle of the grocery store with a basket full of goodies. Among the items purchased in unison were a bottle of lotion, a box of tissues, and a copy of Teen Cosmopolitan magazine.

Terrance approached the speaker box at Wendy’s and placed the following order: “I’d like a bowl of chili with a finger in it, a double bacon cheeseburger with human jerky, and an unsweetened iced tea with a woman’s big toe floating near the top.” Without missing a beat, the clerk on the other end of the speaker said, “If everything on the screen is correct, that’ll be $8.99 at the first window.”

Jerry and Sonya stripped each other of their clothing for a night of intimate romance. To get the lovemaking started, Jerry said in an African accent, “I am the captain now!”

Jeremiah was busy in the barn milking the cow when Uncle Zeb entered with a disgusted look on his face and said, “That’s a bull, son.” Jeremiah smiled at the farm master and said, “I knew that.”

A hefty mall cop entered Victoria’s Secret looking for a man named Victor Timothy. When the sexy brunette clerk shortened the two given names and put them together, it became painfully clear to her what the mall cop was really looking for.

The photo shoot for the No H8 campaign required that the celebrities in question, Daniel Bryan and Brie Bella, put duct tape on their mouths as a form of protest against bullying. When all the needed pictures were taken, the photographer then produced two more “protest props”: a black leather gimp hood and a red rubber ball gag.

William took a bite of cherry pie and thought it was so delicious that he needed to know the ingredients. Jenny leaned her face seductively into his and listed the ingredients as rhubarb, chocolate-covered cherries, cane sugar, orange juice, and finally…the minced remains of William’s mother.

The charismatic spokesman for Metro PCS bounced a purple metal ball around with the message that phone service was only $40, period. After he continually drove home the point of “period power”, he was brutally run over by a semi-truck delivering Kotex products.

Thomas took a swig of chocolate milk and immediately had the urge to vomit himself inside out. When he looked at the milk jug, not only did the expiration date say January 2^nd, 1904, but the brand name was “Honey Bucket”.

Richard was told that a Playboy Bunny was waiting for him at the Motel 6 for a night of “sensual action”. When he opened the door, he got an entirely different kind of bunny: a 300 lb. mountain man in a Bugs Bunny outfit wielding a morning star.

Burger King Dreams

Regardless of what city I’m visiting in my dreams, there always seems to be a Burger King right up the street. I wouldn’t even have to ask for a ride, I could just walk and that Triple Whopper with Cheese is as good as mine. There was even one dream where UFC fighter Chael Sonnen gave me a cut of his post-fight bonus to go eat at Burger King. He said it was the closest thing to socialism that I would ever get in my lifetime. Nice guy, huh? But let’s talk about this strange archetype for a moment. Why Burger King? Why not McDonald’s, Wendy’s, or Sonic? Could it have something to do with the fact that going to Burger King was a weekend ritual for me during high school? I’ve had lots of high school dreams, so Burger King might be the link I’m looking for. Every weekend during my junior and senior years of high school, my dad would give me a ten dollar bill and I would walk to Burger King to get a Triple Whopper with Cheese. This was obviously before I was eligible for social security, so I needed that ten dollars. When I was packing on weight in a big fucking hurry, he stopped giving me ten dollar bills. It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, because now that I’ve been receiving disability benefits since 2004, I spend most of my money on restaurants and convenience stores. That’s right, folks. My life is so lackluster that the only source of entertainment I have is chowing down on processed meats and cheeses. I take one bite of a greasy hamburger and all my depressive pain goes away. But once the meal is over, I have to find another fix and dinner won’t be for another few hours. Then what? It’s funny that I have all of these writing projects to do and all these books to read on my shelf, yet eating at a fast food restaurant is more fun than doing either of those two things. When someone asks me to read a book, I’m conveniently “mentally exhausted”. But when my step-father is going out for a grocery run and asks me if I need to stop anywhere, my mental energy suddenly comes back to me. In a way, cheap food has become my painkiller, which is funny, because when I started writing this blog entry, I was listening to “Painkiller” by Three Days Grace. But you know what else is a painkiller for me? Writing and reading. The feeling of accomplishment I get from both of those activities will last me for at least the rest of the day. The difference between creative activities and eating is that eating is readily available when I need it. Creativity takes more time. I’m not a patient man, so I choose fast food over writing and reading. This is obviously the wrong path to choose since I have a saggy tummy and big cheeks. But you know what? Until somebody provides me with a solution that’s more permanent than a pep talk, I’m going to keep going down this road. It’s sad and unfortunate, but this is who I am. Food has become a part of me in more ways than just eating it.

　

***DOMESTIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Garrison likes his books like he likes his food: fast and cheap.”

-Susan Wilson-