I Wrote A Poem For Britney Spears – Look!

Please note that I am completely serious and not apologizing for my screwed up opinion here.  This was inspired by Britney, I will not hide, but I will try sauerkraut later this evening.  Enjoy!

She’s So Dead

I told you so, she boldly
Lies before her fans now cold and moldy
Makeup artists making their last stand
A swan song for the ugly duckling
She didn’t ever care who she was fuckling
So now why should we care now that she’s dead and gone
I rue the day that these shallow blondes who are propped up
By fanfare and media throngs
Become the woman’s idea of an empowered femme
Little growing girlies way to small to flaunt their
Short and curlies, same to me as little common slutttt

The trash we love and the glitter we praise
Has a leader who’s so toxic she’ll soon autograph her grave
And when she’s dead she’ll beat this eager press that turned against her
And she’ll die into legend, like a soft bed of relief afloat in silken water
She’s so dead, can’t you see?  I think you see just fine.
You just choose to be simple, boring, and blind.

But I think we know we’ve hit a new low
With the new pop slut superstar glow
When we see that now children and their parents are hurt
By the influence of intoxicating, glittering dirt
And the desire of teenies to do just the same
As what their favorite stars sell them tattooed with their name.

From heretoforth let it be clear
She’s so dead just a walking veneer
Of all that will embarrass us and shame us
In retrospect, a future to be lived


After she’s dead so maybe we can
Start over again..


When I Said I’d Die For You, I Didn’t Mean You Could Kill Me…

When I was a kid. There are certain temporal tidbits that are designed to induce boredom and other unpleasantries amongst those who emote. I emote. The key is to keep the words close to the indicated line of fire by the super-duper title dangling like a male sexual organ over your whole scrot(yum) of an article. It truly does work like that.

Submissions to The Onion don’t work. They do if you’re keen. Are you keen? If so, I will reconsider…

I will read your blog and take off my final shred of clothing. My lizard tail anal prosthesis.

-naked eric

“Kiss Me Honey, Kiss Me Where It Smells Funny”

I want to make a commercial.  Man, woman, picnic, sun, dog, tag, you’re it, and all of the other parts of an idyllic Summer’s day.  Laughing.  Food being inserted into cranial orifice.  Chewing, rolling on green fluffy grass and not a stain or meadow muffin to dampen the glorious horizontal pirouette.  Now with woman a distance away from rolling with such zeal, he turns to the camera and says,

“This may look like a picnic.  But when my doctor told me I had Penile Excrement Evanescence , there were to be no more picnics.

I was always wondering, ‘can they see?’  ‘does my wife worry when I am at work?’ or “Does my Chad smell like a hammer?”  It was not easy.

That is until my doctor told me about a new pill called Peninoscos.  Peninoscos lets me live the life I’ve always missed due to PEE (Penile Excrement Evanescence).   Now, in a wide range of flavors and potencies, Peninoscos had redefined our sex life.  No longer will my wife vomit on my nipples and tell the dog to lick it off.  She will not have to dig up a doody from the toilet in order to kill the smell of my penis.  Neighbors will stop calling the police to report a dead body only to find me and my wife naked holding a shit with the dog licking vomit off my nipples.  That can be quite embarrassing.

(wife finds a pogo stick and pogos into the dirt beside them, getting it stuck, falling off, and falling on the bottle of wine, smashing it and slicing her face, filling a wine glass with blood from her eviscerated noggin.  Man turns his head back to face the scene and excuses himself from the “interview sequence”.

Couple Scene Resumes)

Man dabs at her bloody wound with the picnic blanket when the wife says:

“Mark, I smell it again.  Did you –

(man cuts her off)

“No honey, I did not take my peninoscos.”

“Well take it so our picnic can be magical again!”

(man takes the pill and passionately kisses his wife)

“Kiss me honey, Kiss me where it smells funny”

Now a chorus sings the tag line as the commercial ends.  A passionate chorus repeats:

“Kiss me Honey, Kiss me where it smells funny.”

(Fade Out)

Voiceover: “Use only as directed”

Kill me. Now.

singingbee1.jpgI am looking at my television. This is what I see:

Joey Fatone of the Boy Band era has just popped up on my screen, opened his bloated mouth and indicated that I was welcomed to his show, “The Singing Bee”! No insects were to be found anywhere. Then he announces that a special guest is here and had some Asian lady scream out “Here are THE VILLAGE PEOPLE!!!” Yeah, the damn YMCA folk.

Now camera pans to stage and the VP are dancing around doing YMCA as FATONE dances with the Asian Lady/Screamer in a way that makes ME look like Elvis. The first contestant comes out, starts dancing and falls down. FATONE laughs and explains that the rules are the game are to sing the missing line of a song played by the recently YMCA’d stage speakers. The fallen contestant gets up and stares at the camera. CROWD GOES WILD. They sing as in church to the VP. The scene is basically impossible to describe with any justice. It’s a bunch of bouncing, bloated fools with a neon bee on the wall. Joey Fatone is Satan in this particular ring of Hell. Take the worst thing you’ve ever watched and marinate. Then stab yourself. Then stab me. Kill me. Or kill the NBC Exec. who greenlighted this piece of fecal matter.

FATONE just corrected a contestant who sang the wrong lyrics to a Journey ballad. I really do think it’s time for the Aliens who left me here to come pick me up now.