There’s something that’s been bugging me, and I’ve been needing to rant. And no, it doesn’t involve Michael Jackson’s fucking goddamn death. Seriously, the dude was 98% plastic. Who the fuck cares? Why is it that society feels the need to advertise a man’s death just because it is something that everyone can say they have in common? Yeah, we all know him. Big whoop. Nope, this rant involves a much deeper topic. One that I have dabbled in myself and that is the power of artistic creation.
Artistic creation. Some may inquire as to what that is. At those fellows I scoff, for one has only to look into a mirror to find the answers. See, you were artistically created when the higher power some call god shit you out of his asshole and you plummeted like stinky ass bile to the earth, sprouted legs, grew a brain and became the dominant life form on the planet. The common man strokes his narcissistic phallus while proclaiming a joy of exceeding arrogance and laughing at the downfalls of his dissonance. In conclusion, awesomeness stems from not the size of thy phallus, but thy substance. Therefore, it is not what is derived from the poem itself, but from within the poems words.
It is with this soup for the soul, that I give you some of my deepest and most insightful creations. These poems not only cause you to think, they cause the blood to flow to the outermost extremities of your sexual organs (called a boner for those of you pissants who don’t know what I was talking about). And now I shall detract from the depths of my soul to bring you the raw unadulterated poetry that I call the works of ADMIRAL AWESOME!!!!!!!!
I wrote this poem for a fetching young lass that caught my eye. It wouldn’t do to have people know that I’m such a good poem master, so I left it covertly on a napkin in bar for her. Needless to say, she found me and we had hot sex all through the night. Here is my poem. Feel free to use this poem that flowed from my pen like Jesus’ lard flowed from his naked corpse as he hung from the cross and rotted in the sun. Enjoy.
Strumpet oh strumpet,
how I’m really going to pump it.
Into your tight trumpet,
Of wonder and delight.
I’ll make you scream songs,
of passion and heat.
We’ll slide off our thongs.
I’ll fondle your teat.
You say you’re not uptight,
but that means you’re loose.
Cause this steamy night,
I’ll caress your caboose.
A chartreuse caboose of frumpetting humpetting breakfast tea.
In the morning we’ll have three cups of tea.
Throw Conway Twitty in there.
Recently a fan contacted me about his sexuality. Now normally I don’t delve into matters of this subject, as normally the manliest of men don’t do that shit. However since he was desperate, I recommended him to a company that dabbles in such issues. I guess his results came out negatively because this is the response I got as to his results.
>> As if
> > That company is dumb
> > IFirst off they say I’m gay
> > not only that but the first out of 103807 people?
Below is my response. I think it speaks for itself.
>You started your Email with “As if”
>That statement there is a hallmark Valley Girl saying,
>which means that you want to be a girl, which means
>you are gay. Plus your name is maverick, which is the
>name of a gay cowboy bar in Texass. Therefore, you
>You should come by sometime; I guarantee you a great
>time with some cows…and their wranglers.
>Secondly, you say the company is dumb? Why then spend
>your time replying to me about it? If it’s so dumb, then why
>have over 105000 people gone to them and sent them emails
>about how accurate they are. Why would they
>certify their hardware and software? Why are you so mad
>about it if it is dumb? Could it be that you are just
>an angry closet case and are mad because this test has
>forced you to make a difficult decision about coming
>out? Yeah….I think so.
>If you would like to think about changing your
>lifestyle, then please feel free to contact me. I
>have a wide array of “doctors” and gay porn movies to
>suit all of your needs and desires. I know that they
>have served mine =) LOL
>May the love of gay-jesus/Buddha shine down upon you
>every day of your homo life.
Maverick could only reply with this.
> Holy Crap your fucking quick
> I have to say, I was thinking of so many different responses… but that
> was awesome LOL
>that made my day
>PS the name mavirick is from TOP GUN
Ever wondered what a viking does on his days off? Well wonder no more, you prick. Feast your eyes on the immoral and beastly acts of Conrack the Danish viking of doom. Rape? Murder? Pillage? YES TO ALL OF THE ABOVE. So grab your mighty horn and raise it high. For tonight we drink to the bloody conquest OF THE VIKINGS!
I recently received an email because I get a lot of fan mail. This particular one was written by a hot chick named Amy. She wanted me to poke the old hatchet wound, and kept going on and on about how she thinks I’m hot and have the awesomest website in the world. Below is my response to her advances:
My Dearest Amy,
I’m hesitant to write you back, on account of the fact that you have chlamydia abbreviated in your screen name. However, I cannot deny the raging boner which sits before me. You have boobs that could displace a lot of water. I think that if we made sexy time, it could probably last more than 10 minutes.
I slaved and labored for over 17 years in order to become a level 72 Poem Grand Master, and I do not take kindly to being called a joke. But I must prove myself through my words, and so I write you this poem:
You make me insaney.
I just recently noticed,
Your vagina is grainy.
In that picture you took
on that one hot day,
Where you stood on the beach,
With that child, you play.
I just camey.
Because you dunkle my retarded winkle.
In you, I cream,
I cream the cream of a thousand dreams.
So sugary and supreme,
We move like a team.
Your bloody lips suck my savory cock.
They suck it a lot,
as your corpse starts to rot.
Necrophilia, a wonderous delight.
With rigamortis, it’s nice and tight.
The crickets chirp, in this soft but cold night,
You can’t say it hurts.
You can’t put up a fight.
So I fuck you.
Over and over.
And when I say it,
you’re gonna bend over.
I’M BILLY MAYS,
AND YOU’RE OXYCLEAN.
AND BY OXYCLEAN?
I MEAN I POUND YOUR VAGINE.
I POUND THAT SHIT CLEAN.
MY COCK GOES SO DEEP I START GRINDING YOUR SPLEEN.
A greenie teenie weenie of sploogy cockiney that I spewed all over seventeenie aborted babies.