You know, I used to absolutely hate poetry. Hated reading it, hated writing it, just generally hated everything about it. I was a prose guy, and I thought there was something silly and frivolous about scribbling thoughts into stanzas and trying to get them to scan and rhyme and all that crap.
Then, something changed. Maybe it was getting sober, though I have no idea why that would have any bearing on this. But over the past few years, I’ve found that there are certain instances where I can best put my thoughts in order by taking up quill and scroll and just churning out some of the old doggerel.
Before we go any further, let’s just get this out of the way here and now:

Okay, now that we’ve dispensed with that (yeah), allow me if you will to emote all over you below:
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February 25, 2018
Categories: #hashtag, asshat anonymous, bad trip, Balls, barely passable trannies, butt-pokey blues, CHAD, Citrus Ursine Weiner Beverage, CRUNK JUICE!!!, Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy, Don't Talk Shit About Total, Ed Balls, Fourth Grade, Gotta tattooed tit say number 13, High Society Trash Bloggin', i'm zero indians, Juice, Kyle, Like you know how to read., Literature, Moist, monkey love, NOT another post by Pupster, Old Person, personal junk, quesadillas, Rocky Dennis, She-Meat, Tastes More Like Regular, unicorns, vagine, whatever, Xanthan gum, Your mom likes this, ZOMFG!!11ty! . . Author: Sean M. . Comments: 162 Comments