"The Honorable" John Z. Lee: I'll Bet He Thinks Jim Thornton's Pedophile Chatroom Was Free Speech Too

 

Dr. Larry Nassar: His Medical License Was Suspended, But His Prison Sentence Was Not

 

Bart Simpson vs. Ghislaine Maxwell: If She Looks Like a Monster, It's Because She Is One

 

Jerry Sandusky: When He Needs Every Staff Member Available, He Says, "All Hands on Dick, I Mean, Deck!"

 

Roy Moore Should Be No More

 

This one's obviously more serious than the others I've drawn. Darker, too.

Luke Spencer (Rocked) vs. Ian Watkins (Lostprophets): No Sympathy for the Dead

 

Ian Watkins created and owned child pornography and was imprisoned because of it. He has since been murdered in prison and nothing of value was lost.

Brett Markoff, Father of the Year from "My Favorite Magazine"

 

Matt Gaetz, Respecter of (17-Year-Old) Women

 

And by the way, she's not a 17-year-old "woman". She's a child! Matt Gaetz fucked a CHILD!

Lacy Yang Strikes Again

ACT I

She stands like a halfling, walks like a giant

Forget the kid shit, ‘cause she’s self-reliant

Learned capoeira from the masters of old

Spin-kicking heads until bodies turn cold

Practice on scarecrows, theory on the dance floor

Helicopter kicks and through the air she soars

But no matter how many bones she breaks

There’s always some jerk-ass who calls her a fake

ACT II

Her name is Lacy Yang, but they call her baby girl

And a bunch of other sweet names to make her hurl

She ain’t tall enough to ride the rollercoaster

They say she’s just small enough to fit inside a toaster

As she sipped her hot tea at the capoeira café

She tried to push these thoughts so far away

Until a forty-something with white in his hair

Drunkenly tried to get inside her underwear

ACT III

He’s got Reese’s Pieces and Peanut Butter Cups

A van full of toys and a ranch full of puppy-dups

Lacy Yang told this pervert to fuck off

Two middle fingers for the incel suck-wad

A slap across her face, a prelude to a spanking

Easily forgetting her martial arts ranking

She tied up her dreadlocks in a giant knot

“Come on, you pedo, show me what you’ve got!”

ACT IV

Cartwheeled out of the way of a punch

Flipped off the table, landed with a feather’s touch

He went for a kick, didn’t protect his dick

Lacy threw a crescent heel, sent him spinning like a wheel

Some kangaroo stomps for his bits and pieces

Dragon uppercut to unleash his loose feces

Head butt to the jaw for breaking molestation laws

Knocked the fuck out, the winner wasn’t in doubt

CONCLUSION

David and Goliath is one hell of a legend

Lacy Yang’s story is worth more than a mention

Let this be a lesson to the wicked and dangerous

May you get your ass kicked from Earth to Uranus

Low Bar

You’re still nicer than a murderer in prison

You’re still tougher than a newborn kitten

You’re still smarter than dirty toilet paper

Still more put-together than a meth taker

Still wiser than a screaming kid on a plane

You’re still a better brother than Cain

You’re still a better writer than E.L. James

Still more tolerable than hemorrhoid pain

Still more beautiful than a razor-fanged demon

Still more innocent than a pedophile’s semen

Still healthier than grandpa on his deathbed

Still less ironic than a rapist going to heaven

Still younger than the corpse of Cleopatra

Don’t let these low bars become a distraction

You wanted some good news for once

This is all I’ve got and it was what it was

I’m sorry the universe is working against you

I should say that for the whole earth too

We’re all in this together, are you in or out?

If you do nothing, there’s no reason to shout

Bad days will come and go like everything else

If you’re up for it, let’s storm the gates of hell

Good news won’t come unless we make it so

This opportunity is yours to claim or to blow

Exposed

In Juliet Farrell’s fourteen-year-old mind, whoever invented math should be strapped to a chair and beaten with hammers. Trying to wrap her head around complicated algebra caused her to rip up her homework assignments and stab her textbook with a sharpened pencil. If not for the after school tutoring of her teacher Trent O’Neil, her head would have exploded like a suicide vest. Every day for thirty minutes, she would sit in his empty classroom and work frantically on homework assignments. Meanwhile, Mr. O’Neil would stand over her with a shit-eating grin on his face and promises of his undying support.

“Don’t forget what FOIL stands for: First, Outside, Inside, Last. You have to remember that when multiplying two polynomials together,” said Mr. O’Neil in his best jovial voice. Juliet had a smile on her face as well when her teacher’s advice was actually working. “Excellent work, Juliet! You’ve come a long way in such a short period of time. I like that! If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I have to use the men’s room. I’ll be right back to grade your assignment.”

It had been only a few short minutes since Mr. O’Neil left the room and Juliet was already confident enough to finish her assignment in record time. Another smile formed across her dimpled cheeks and she gave a silent, “Yes!” She hugged the piece of paper to her chest like it was a child’s baby doll. She then danced happily over to her teacher’s desk to lay down the assignment.

It was here that the brunette haired teen took a closer look at Trent’s desk and noticed something unusual. His drawers were usually locked, but one of them was slightly ajar. With furrowed brows of confusion, she opened one of the drawers just out of random curiosity. She had seen him confiscate contraband from other students before and lock them up in these drawers. Maybe there was a CD player in there. Maybe there was chewing gum. Or pot. Or a knife.

After shuffling around inside the drawer, Juliet’s eyes widened in horror and her cheeks were quivering. As she flipped through naked photos of herself one by one, her blood had chilled and cold sweat poured off of her face in streams. She even held her hand to her mouth and cried silently at the perverted nature of these nude photos of her. Obviously they were Photoshopped, but the sexual acts she was performing in these photos…they brought up bile in the back of her throat.

“What are you doing with those?” asked a falsely apologetic Trent O’Neil, who was standing in the doorway with a horrified look on his face.

“What am I doing with these?” sobbed Juliet. She repeated that sentence in a scream this time followed by, “You have naked pictures of me in your drawer! What is wrong with you! Is that the only reason why you wanted to tutor me?! Oh my god, I feel sick!” The traumatized teen dropped to her knees and dry heaved on the floor. Her face had turned bright red and mucous was forming around her nostrils as she sobbed some more.

“Juliet…you need to listen to me. I can explain why those photos are there. They’re not mine, I swear,” said Trent with his arms held out in a mediocre attempt to calm his student down.

“Bullshit!” shouted Juliet while rising to her feet. “That is such bullshit! You’re a pedophile! You’re a goddamn pedophile!” Her sentences were punctuated by shoving Trent backwards repeatedly. The teacher had successfully deceived the entire school into thinking he was a decent person. But with one slap across Juliet’s face, his true colors showed and they were blood red.

Trent continued his assault by grabbing Juliet’s brown hair and hauling her to her feet. “Who in the hell do you think you are, little girl?!” he said in an emotionless whisper. “Who are you to destroy my career?! I spent years teaching the next generation how to excel at math and become productive citizens. If you think you’re going to fuck it all up for me, you’re dead wrong!”

Juliet stomped on Trent’s feet repeatedly, causing him to do a painful dance, but he wouldn’t relinquish his grasp on his student’s hair. In fact, he had enough strength to shove her to the ground and lay on top of her. His powerful arms pinned her skinny wrists to the ground while the teen screamed and pleaded to be released. “Let me go! Please let me go!”

“You want to be released?! Huh?! You want to be released?! Oh trust me, little girl, I’ll give you the best release you’ve ever had in your entire life!” Trent’s breathing was heavy and labored, but also creepy to listen to. “Don’t believe everything your sex ed teacher tells you. You’re not going to have green splooge afterwards. But here’s the kicker, my darling: if you tell anybody about this, those nude photos go online! One way or another, you’re going to be known as a fourteen-year-old whore! Whether it’s mine or the internet’s is up to you, little girl! What do you say?!”

Juliet sobbed the entire time Mr. O’Neil was yelling at her. No matter the outcome of this confrontation, she was doomed forever. She thought of all the people who would either know about her rape or see her Photoshopped pictures online. All the name calling. All the physicality. All the isolation. The thoughts numbed out her mind like a shot of Novocain to the brain. Then again, as long as her life was going to be ruined…

“Eat shit and die, you pervert!” screamed Juliet Farrell before she leaned her head over and bit down hard on Trent’s wrist, drawing so much blood that it probably curdled while the teacher was screaming in mind-blowing pain. He rolled off of her and allowed the blubbering student to get up and run toward the desk where the stack of photos was being kept.

Juliet looked through those photos again with downward eyebrows and clinched teeth before looking back at Trent O’Neil, who was sitting on his ass screaming in agony and wrapping his orange tie around his wrist wound. Juliet then picked up a stapler along with the photos and marched over to her injured teacher with sick intentions on her mind.

“You want people to see me naked? Fine by me. But it’ll be on my terms. And the blood will be on your hands!” threatened Juliet. One by one, she stapled the naked pictures to Trent’s exposed skin and caused bigger gushers than the one on his wrist. The teacher screamed and pleaded, but instead got more pictures stapled to his arms, legs, chest, forehead, and lastly, his crotch.

Trent shot up off the ground and danced in pain while bleeding all over the desks and carpet. Juliet watched him twirl around with folded arms and a gorgon death stare as she followed him out into the hallway where the football team was just getting out of practice at the next door gym.

The football players’ eyes widened in horror at the sight of a bloodied pedophile with pictures of a naked teenager stapled to his body. Trent O’Neil had become a human collage of disgust, disdain, and violence and all he could do about it was crawl on his hands and knees with the football team’s hearts skipping a few beats.

“Go ahead. Soak it all in,” said Juliet, who was standing in a puddle of her math teacher’s blood. “Add those pictures to your personal spank bank. Jack off to them as much as you want. But if you’re thinking of keeping me like one of your slutty cheerleaders, just remember that you too could be just as bloody and bruised as the man who did this to me. So…how about it, boys? Do you have something you want to say to me? You want to whistle at me? You want to blow me a kiss? You want to ask me to the homecoming dance? If you’ve got something to say, say it to my motherfucking face!”

For extra emphasis on how brutal she can be when she’s crossed, Juliet held up the bloodstained stapler she used to make artwork out of her teacher. “You’re crazy! You’re fucking crazy!” yelled one of the football players as all of them started to back away slowly in trembling fear.

“You’re right. I am crazy. Crazy like a fox,” said Juliet with a sadistic smile on her face. She even licked the blood off of the stapler to make the football team backpedal just a little bit faster (they were moving too slowly for her tastes).

Sunday School

VERSE 1
Masturbating doesn’t make you a sinner
Jumping for Jesus doesn’t make you a winner
Having a wife doesn’t guarantee dinner
You were told otherwise by the holy swindlers
It’s all a distraction from the bigger picture
The altar boy with his finger on the trigger
The barrel pointed to his sweating forehead
The only way he could learn how to forget


CHORUS
We’re not going to Sunday School!
We’re staying home!
We’re not joining the congregation!
We’re doing this alone!


VERSE 2
Bend his little body over the holy altar
Make him scream in pain, make him holler
To you it’s just business, not worth a bother
Just drown him in the river, the Baptist water
Your deadly sins tend to go unnoticed
The police do nothing, though they know this
A transfer request to a different church
You can do it all again, except much worse


EXTENDED CHORUS 1
We’re not going to Sunday School!
We’re staying home!
We’re not joining the congregation!
We’re doing this alone!
We’re not singing in the choir!
We’re picking up the phone!
We’re going to tell anyone who will listen!
Something they’ve already known!


VERSE 3
Heaven doesn’t want you, neither does hell
Neither does the chime of the funeral bells
Neither does the water of the holy wells
Nobody is buying the things that you sell
We know it’s bullshit, we don’t say it enough
What you did to that boy was far from love
Tell us the truth, we don’t scare so easy
Though the news makes us feel queasy


EXTENDED CHORUS 2
We’re not going to the mega church!
We’re protesting outside!
We’re not going on your private jet!
We’re forming a line!
We’re not going on your holy mission!
We’re turning the tide!
Keep your hands off our fucking bodies!
I’ll see you on the dark side!