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February 21, 2005
Mon 21st of The Present Month
I washed some glasses today, again. I HATE washing them!
Glasses: Hello, we’re stupid glasses, we get dirty REALLY fast and make life a LIVING HELL for you because you have to wash us all the time because YOU don’t have a washing machine, you poor, underprivileged little peasant.
Starving Child in Africa: Hey, life isn’t so tough.
Shut up! SHUT YOUR MOUTH! You don’t know what it’s like! Who died and made you the meter of pain from which every grievance in life is measured? Huh? Countless millions before you? Oh. Well whatever.
It’s the same thing with socks. You wash them, you wear them, they get stinkville USA, you wash them, you wear them FOREVER AND FOREVER THE CYCLE CONTINUES like a fucking wheel turning around and around banging your head every five seconds in this really ANNOYING way. Just STAY CLEAN.
Here is my poem in protest of these endless mundanities, called:
Shut Up All Of You
Socks sucks
Glasses are arses
Surface cleaner is a wiener
Kitchen towel is frickin’ foul
Beds needing to be made are like lead weights pulling me down into an ocean of suffering and despair
Vacuuming can go and get fucked too
Hmm. That’s all.
Oh yeah, it looks like Mic in Hand might be booking shows at a strip club! I can’t wait to get a stripper girlfriend. I think I’ll call her ‘Tiffany’.
Posted by Sam Bowring at February 21, 2005 10:41 PM