hillary_powell_bimbos

Fifty Ways to Dick Your Bimbos

“The problem is all inside your pants”, she said to me
The answer is easy if you’re emotionally
A faithless sex addict like you appear to be
There must be fifty ways to dick your bimbos

She said it really is my habit to be crude
I hope you’ll respond to me by being very lewd
And I’ll repeat myself to ensure that I get screwed
There must be fifty ways to dick your bimbos
Fifty ways to dick your bimbos

Just slip in the back, Jack
Cop a new thrill, Bill
You don’t need a sex toy, Roy
Just yank yourself free
Get on a train, Blaine
Don’t refrain or be vain
Just drop to your knees, Lee
And yank yourself free

She said it pleases me to see you in such pain
I’m glad my bimbos have made you smile again
I said Hillary appreciates that and would you procure again
You know, another fifty bimbos

She said no problem I’ll be back again tonight
And I believe that in the morning my fifty ways will be too slight
And then she untied me and I realized she probably was right
There are more than fifty ways to dick your bimbos
Fifty ways to dick your bimbos

Just slip in the back, Jack
Cop a new thrill, Bill
You don’t need a sex toy, Roy
Just yank yourself free
Get on a train, Blaine
Don’t refrain or be vain
Just drop to your knees, Lee
And yank yourself free

The New Mangled Banner

O yes you can see, by your phone’s eerie light,
As so glibly we bailed on our nation’s redeeming,
Whose broad shoulders and scars in the abortive fight,
O’er TV we watched, are so valiantly heaving!
And the athletes’ red stares, their scorn lusting for air,
Gives proof in the night that our flag is not there;
But yea does that new mangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of zombies and the home of the slave!

And the slut richly dressed in her garb of the street,
Takes the place of the lady whose robes she despises.
What’s that which the breeze, from new towers doth creep,
As it slithers and slinks, conceals, deodorizes?
Now it catches the stench of the nightfall’s first watch,
In all awful glory, the brine, the biatch;
‘Tis the new mangled banner, O! ever deranged
O’er the land of zombies and the home of the slave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the rights we adore and the good not illusion,
A home and a country, should leave us no more?
Their blood still runs red, their hearts beat in fusion,
No zombie, no whore, can dispense with that place,
No terror, no blight, not the gloom of the grave,
While the new mangled banner in disgrace shall be waved,
O’er the land of zombies and the home of the slave!

O thus be it ever, when free men do stand
Between loved ones and homes and cultural desolation.
Damned with purpose and spine for a more perfect land
Praise the Power that gave us the just revelation!
So conquer we will, o’er zombies and whores,
And this be our motto: ‘In God we trust more.’
And a new spangled banner once more shall be waved,
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

An ode to CO2

is there nothing it can’t do
photosynthesis and warming
flora fauna reconforming
judeO2 suborning
calamity construe
remorseful rehabilitation
militia green creation
taxpayer ass dilation
from paris to peru
blarney baal conforming
artificial brain rewarding
scientifical denorming
synthetic peer review
milspec creation complex
ngo citation redux
tax is tithing says my cortex
constipation or i’ll sue
politician duty grifting
little people spit obeying
hammer down to earth relaying
sickle government renew
there is nothing it can’t do