itt: my post-modern hamster poem of instant fail

I need to be on the forum to deliver baby’s to the big manhole in the sky before 12 o clock or else I have to pay like double or so tax on the house of love that is filled with love and spiders to go just like mister Fei Long told me to get plumber with mushroom to save hamburger of gold so she said to me while she laid there naked beside me was welcome to warpzone that is the writing on the wall better then there is no pie here anymore because only heterosexuals are alowed to drive trucks to Alaska because of new law passed by the house of crabs not related to Optimus like a dog go miauw miauw just like aunt George told me AMD is better then Intel is better then socks is worse then free sex with a Texas areacode because that is funny like I came 3 times 2 weeks from now at your birthday party with the clown who works at Space Channel 5 for 4 years like Fred who did not get elected for space president is like a asexual monster of pleasure working for UPS delivering monkeys to the dolphins who used to work at Atari but got fired cause the ball in Pong is really a square inch away from my summerhouse in the sky where I used to play Dance Dance Revolution with the dead until it wrecked my internet relationship with saint Moogle VI from Russia like a atomic monkey ninja ball out on a air raid because he’s angry at sushi for being spoiled and all is well because I finally arrived and stingray in not at another castle.

The End.

There’s not enough snow said the Eskimo to the buisinessman who agreed on the subject of shooting baseball playing monkeys into space for 2 people on the second floor where the pandabear lives who added Sally Vortex to his friendslist on MySpace although Sally Vortex from the block had other things on her mind like killer stingrays who where drinking her wine at $6 a gallon like a SUV on amphitamine versus broken love on the infosceen in the mall where Fred was angry with Kylie because she owned his ass like a hundred times with Street Fighter II Turbo Super Hyper fighting DeLuxe Special edition by using E. Honda’s Hundred Hand Slap like there was no tomorow or today or an ending like this.

To Be Continued.

Once upon a time I ate a dog who’s name was Ricky Justice since then crime rates have gone up 600 percent in 2 minutes right after Melissa’s therapy session ended that she needed after she had a 60 minute naughty webcam fest with Elton John’s drugdealer who’s last name was Floppy just like Michael Floppy from Iceland who set fire to the house of free icecream because crazy kids high on chocolate icecream were stealing his mother’s internet porn that they wanted so they could sell it to mister boss man for like 6 buck per gig they could use to invested it all in crack cocaine and a crack for Adobe Photoshop 2.1 the ghetto edition which included a brush to paint ho’s red so they would look nice on the 1995 family christmas card that suburban white uncle Tommy would never receive because someone at the postoffice was busy turning the dead body of Ricky Justice into pixelart.

Moral of the story is: never eat a dog or your caucasian uncle Tommy won’t get any ho’s for christmas!

The End

Once upon a time there was a clock named Henry who said that the time was actually 12 o clock instead of once upon a time in the village of hate where people loved each other by throwing cats, dogs and bisexuals at your head that they used to make deathsoup with which tasted like urban chicken who live downtown and work in a sneakerstore where you can get your ass kicked in the back for only 5,99 dollars a minute like Andy who liked a good kicking against the head but with cucumbers not cats, dogs and bisexuals cause Andy was a abusive vegetarian just like his mom who went in the Canadian army because she liked the weather in Iraq where she dranked tequila with the buisinessmen from McDonalds like Ronald but with a black sombrero to protect them from the sun and the moon and the stars and this poem.

The End

Stay tuned for more poems kids, because next issue will feature a date rape special!

Once upon a time I ate a dog who’s name was Ricky Justice since then crime rates have gone up 600 percent in 2 minutes right after Melissa’s therapy session ended that she needed after she had a 60 minute naughty webcam fest with Elton John’s drugdealer who’s last name was Floppy just like Michael Floppy from Iceland who set fire to the house of free icecream because crazy kids high on chocolate icecream were stealing his mother’s internet porn that they wanted so they could sell it to mister boss man for like 6 buck per gig they could use to invested it all in crack cocaine and a crack for Adobe Photoshop 2.1 the ghetto edition which included a brush to paint ho’s red so they would look nice on the 1995 family christmas card that suburban white uncle Tommy would never receive because someone at the postoffice was busy turning the dead body of Ricky Justice into pixelart.

Moral of the story is: never eat a dog or your caucasian uncle Tommy won’t get any ho’s for christmas!

The End

LOL wowo echibu..

P.s I miss the hamster Av

Today I had some random test and my teachers were astounded because I only breathed at the beginning of the test then read it all out. It took me like 15 seconds whilst most others took 5-10mins and I still got the best score they had ever had.

i was rather happy.^^