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mini fic - Mariand visita al psicologo una tarde en el consultorio de psicologia...
Doctor: toma asiento y siéntate por favor
Doctor: ¿como te llamas?
Doctor: ¿mariand que?
M: ¡que pepinos le importa!
Doctor: bueno, ¿que te trae por aquí?
M: mis amigas me obligaron sobre mi voluntad ¬¬
Doctor: te noto molesta...
M: ¡no quería venir!
Doctor: bueno, bueno, te haré algunas preguntas ¿de acuerdo?
M: como quiera...
Doctor: dime algo que odies
M: que los peces de cece entren a mi cuarto
Doctor: como podrían entrar peces a tu cuarto O_o
M: pues en una pecera ¿no?
Doctor: de acueerdo, que mas
M: emm, bueno en general, que cualquier ser viviente entre a mi cuarto
Doctor: ¿alguna de tus compañeras lo ah hecho?
M: no creo que les convenga hacerlo
Doctor: ¿tienes mascotas mariand?
M: si, una serpiente llamada fraude y un gato llamado chesstre :3
Doctor: una ¿s-sepiente?
M: sii... *habla pausadamente*
... Merry Birthday, Jeff!!!*
Hello Gorgeous, pretty fella!
Would write you a complete novella
of young and charming Cinderella
draped with but a pink umbrella,
munching beef with Salmonella -
however - great. You are in luck:
my pen is simply grossly stuck!
Mean and tricksy midnight puck
with firm blessings stuffed 'n tucked
it in none too small a scale
well underneath the fluffy tail
~ of a well fed mongoose duck!
... Oh, ye gods!!!
What ever are we now to do?!!
Here's a quirky point of view:
let us fill her with fine brew;
for until she finds the loo -
our common goal we can't pursue!
So, in the Merry month of May,
- or July - whichever way -
run, have fun - enjoy your play
and dip thine whiskers in soufflé
of gifts and wishes: a neat soiree
(that we are) we cheer and say:
~ long live our Jeffy on this saintly Day!
Nothing But FrustrationNothing works
My head just wont work right tonight
No rhythm flows with what I compose
My rhymes just don't work out sometimes
Nothing to read
Nothing to sing
The songs I sing just have no ring
Nothing to do
Nothing to say
Everything I say is just too cliché
Nothing to write
Nothing to blend
Blend is just stupid so this is the end
How To Be A LadyBe kind and gentle
Remember! Nothing is accidental.
Remember all the little things
Never dip your feet, even in the most gentle of springs.
Never neglect your gentleman callers
No matter how much he hollers.
Your voice must be soft and gentle
Loud noises are vile and considered mental.
Never take wine with your afternoon tea
And a lady should never beg or plea.
Cloths should always be perfect, skirts never distraught
A parasol brought whenever it is hot.
No matter how rich, always act humble
And a lady, would never fumble.
A lady should always know when to use each fork
and how to eat her pork.
Always remember to lower your head
When greeted by another, even one you dread.
Now, remember your manners and never make a racket
or you might end up in a straight jacket.
Why Dogs are Better Than CatsA dog has a lot to do,
But you already to that,
and so this is a poem all about
why dogs are better than cats.
First, let's talk about night,
Since night gives most of us some fright;
Dogs will sleep all through the day (except when they have to play, of course)
But if an intruder knocks on the door,
A dog will roll up off the floor,
And bark, and bark, and bark.
And say the intruder didn't knock,
The dog will not exactly bark,
But will come up to the bad guy
wagging its tail,
Distracting the bad fellow with endless kisses.
Then Mom will know something is amiss,
Since someone in the house is getting kissed,
and everyone is safe in bed,
So a bad guy must be wanting fed;
So the Mom will come down and bring out the chicken,
Or at least that's what Fido thinks,
Then she'll feed Fido first, and then the bad guy,
Who wants to be fed
And everyone will be happy because Fido got chicken, and petted, and so forth.
Oviously there is no need for point two,
Because it should be very clear to you,
blind justicecaught in the act
a selfie to boot
should not have posed
so close to the loot
darn social media
a souvenir is fine
but don't show the whole world
who committed the crime
when all the evidence
is so easy to find
only hope that justice
will truly be blind
A Case of Identity: James WindibankA/N: By Jove!" he continued, flushing up at the sight of the bitter sneer upon the man's face, "it is not part of my duties to my client, but here's a hunting crop handy, and I think I shall just treat myself to--"
“Mr. James Windibank,
Those who play games of sin we spank.”
Holmes raises his hunting crop…
“Oh, is that the time? I mustn’t stop!”
(wild clatter of steps upon the stairs)
Never A Happy EndingOver a Beer a Psychologist once told me...that there are only a few that he never truely understood,
and the worst out of the whole lot,
was that Little Miss Red Riding Hood.
She told him lies and would often storm of in a huff,
from day one he knew...'this little girl was going to be tuff'.
She told him how...she would cut with a knife,
any Wolf...that would dare give her any strife.
This bitterness she carried with her...through out her whole life,
she never once found love...or was to become someones wife.
In old age... her good vision was lost,
and to this...any poor four legged creature, with its life...would unfortunately pay the cost.
Stuck growing old...as a little fairytale girl,
she ended up going insane...claiming everything had a Wolf like smell.
Then she got institutionalised...when she thought granny was a Wolf...and threw her down the Well.
With more beer...the Psychologist...more tales, he started to tell,
Then there was Prince Charming....who never really got over his
Too Much InformationFor many years I have delayed,
But now I’m tired of waiting,
For now I feel mature enough
To tackle online dating
I think I must be honest,
And say it’s been a while,
Since last I had a lady friend,
But here goes with my profile:
Name and Appearance:
My name (for shame) is Stinky Stan
My body odour’s rank,
My parents gave this rotten name,
I’ve changed it now to Hank.
I think I’m almost six foot tall,
My body’s large and lumpy
I dress in the most drabbest clothes,
And others say I’m frumpy.
My eyes are beady buttons;
For my nose I lack the words,
And brown warts grow upon my cheeks
That look like squishy turds.
My lips are non-existent,
And I have rotten teeth,
My chin has yet another chin,
My neck is thin and scraggy,
My teeth are falling out,
My penis bends in such a way,
It’s like a teapot spout.
My knees are quite arthritic,
My elbows sharp and thin,
My chest is just pathetic,
and my stomach’s
Ode to a Hamburger bunOh hamburger bun dear hamburger bun,
so unspoiled and so clean
Its been over a month now
Why oh why are you not green?
I left you on the counter
without a care, Day after day
I ignored you were there.
By now I figured you'd be full of mold
as a reminder to not eat you
a subtle hint that you're old.
However you live on, still in my life
although I'm sure you'd have been thrown out
if I had me a wife.
But its me and you buddy, til my days are done
just little ol me
and my hamburger bun.
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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