Def Poetry Jam

Piles of white steel where blank sky once sat

Blocking the sun’s cum bullets like Mutumbo

while the albino children of the corporation scurry in dust shadows

eating Crunchwrap Supremes (no lettuce)

Lives served in 32 oz. to-go cups

Specifically Pepsi products, which are all that Taco Bell carries

And the only drink Jackson will drink.

Mother fuckers better realize, visualize, actualize, and rationalize with open eyes

Get a little suckie on Nefertiti’s titty

let those Egyptian nippies fill your esophagus, sarcophagus until it dribbles down your stubble

Warm milk- no, life

life on tap

a pint for my friends!

authenticated, slightly jaded, but never faded

with sonar tech-9-mology to plot our movement

click, snap, crackle, pop, beep, sheep, sleep, creep, crêpe, pancake, flap jack, jack johnson, banana pancakes, banana flap jacks, jack johnsons big fatty banana pudding fountain AKA yellow dick, yellow brick, we’re not in Kansas any more, Kansas greatest hits: Carry on my wayward son & Dust in the wind…

Bing.com

It’s not just a search engine, it’s the first ever decision engine

from Microsoft.

Improving Obama’s Approval Rating

With elections coming around in 2012, the talk of the town is what’s going on with the O Man? Will the Godless baby killing Democrats keep B-Rock in the hot seat? Or are those racist Koran burning ‘Publicans gonna get knee deep in some of that oval office pussaaaay and gas some mexicans? With a shitty 43% approval rating, one thing is for sure: kid better juice up those numbers or he’s going to have to give some H-jobs in the voting booth.

Let me start off by saying right-off-the-bat, from the get-go, straight-up, I’m no political analyst. But I do have over 1,200 friends on facebook so I’m pretty fucking sure I know a thing or two about being popular. I don’t want to brag or whatever but I was voted “Most Approved” in my high school yearbook.  And I used to take big fat stinky dumps in all the nerds’ lunchboxes in middle school.  That being said, I thought I’d share some tips with my black president Obama on how to make the whole country climb back aboard the Change Bus for the 2012 elections. Toot Toot!

1. Run on the Republican ticket and have that surgery that Michael Jackson had, where you turn white and become friends with Macaulay Culkin.

2. Do a guest appearance on Glee. Josh Groban did it and last time I checked Grobs has like a 89% approval rating. With that smile that lets you know that everything is going to be alright. With those eyes that whisper “you’re the only thing in the world that matters.” With those curls you just want to grab and tug as you reach a screaming climax buck’n bronco style.

3. Grow your afro out, guy. Afros transcend racial barriers. Whitey likey. Blackie likey. Everybody likey. Plus a big ass ‘fro will remind everybody of simpler times: the 1970s, when the streets were paved with cocaine and Kool and the Gang records. Gas was a nickel-a-bucket. Dad was sober. And you didn’t have to worry about Chris Hansen popping out every time you want to get a little of that fresh tightness.

4. Fix the economy already. People are seriously starting to get pissed.

5. Next time there is a tsunami, send it towards China instead of Japan. The Chinese are really scaring everybody here in America. They got like a gajillion people and they are smart as dick. AS DICK. If it’s not the machines that take us over, it will be the Chinese. Although, the machines will be made in China, so it’s kinda the same thing. All I’m sayin’ is that we, as a nation and as a planet, could afford to lose about 3 million of those smartdick blackhaired fucks.

6. Get rid of stuff people don’t like. Like immigrants and rough TP. I can’t be the only one who wants smoother beanholes and for America to speak only one language.

7. Catch that 9/11 dude.

8. IMPORTANT! Get a voice coach. Right now your sitting at only a solid baritone. Straight up. Real talk. Which is fine for a one term black president. But if you want another 4 black years, you need range. Frankie Roosevelt could hit that high C over middle E. I think that with the right v.c., we could take those angelic pipes to tenor-ville. Maybe even bass-town, if you get the right coach. May I suggest Josh Groban?

9. Go Country! Once again, every one loves you once youv’e gone country. Throw some southern twang into your speeches. Say ”y’all” and “fixin’ to” and “Damnit, Michelle, I’ma go upside that head if’n ya don’t cut down that racket you call an Athsma inhaler.” Stuff like that. Also, make Toby Kieth the Secretary of Defense. This has just been a long time coming. Look at them boots!

That should help you get started and give a lil boost to those numbers, but you have to remember, as long as you look different, articulate, and claim to be a Democrat, the white people (decision-makers) will always hate you no matter what you do. ;) Love you. Black President. Hallelujah Hallelujah!

An Open Letter to Tatyana Ali

Tatyana Ali,

If you’re reading this somewhere, maybe on your laptop in some sophisticated L.A. coffee shop, sipping you’re tall iced soy mocha frap- no whip, maybe you googled yourself  just to see if anything new popped up, well we just wanted to say that we are so proud of you. We’ve watched you grow over the years from a young Ashley Banks, Will Smith’s tomboy lil cousin living the life of luxury in Fresh Prince to a nubile, ebony goddess with the voice of a Siren. Like the enchanting Greek seductresses, not like a high-pitched noisemaker that alerts one of emergencies. We loved you as a young, budding actress. Now, we’re so proud of the woman you’ve become. No drug problems. No sex tape (although we wouldn’t complain). And you didn’t turn into a fatty like Raven Symone from The Cosby Show and That’s So Raving. For real, bitch got fat. Cheetah Girls, more like Elephant Girls! Get it? Because they are both indigenous to Africa but elephants are way fatter? I probably shouldn’t make fun of her because ya’ll are prolly best friends since she was in Season 2, Episode 21 “Vying for Attention” of Fresh Prince in 1992 or whatever. Anyways, the point is we’re proud of you because not only are you beautiful, but politically active and polite. And yeah, of course we forgive you for not sending that lock of your hair that we requested, even though we have been sending you flowers everyday for 3 years. I mean I’m sure you just forgot to drop it off at the post office, right? I feel like you really get me, you know? You never judge me, even though it would be so easy for you to do (your dad being Judge Uncle Phil and all). It’s like you’re sending me messages in everything you do. Right to my brain hole. I remember that episode where you and Hilary got into a fight because you told her she was adopted because she was so light-skinned. I know that, secretly, that was a commentary about your overall distrust for the white man, something that I have been preaching about for years, ever since Vanilla Ice starred in Secret of the Ooze. And now that we’ve sort of opened up this dialogue and told you how proud we are, we wanted to apologize for breaking into your house last February and stealing used tampons out of your bathroom trash can. We wouldn’t have had to break the window if you hadn’t locked us out, TATYANA! Why don’t you answer my emails? Why the fuck don’t you love me?! I know everything about you. I know what gym you go to. I know you like to eat cold pizza. I know your social security number. I swear to God, if you would just give me a chance I’ll prove to you that we were made for each other. And if you don’t I’m going to cut your head off and put it in my freezer so I can keep it with me forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever. Hehe!

Love you Tatyana!

Your Secret Admirer

Inspirational Half Time Speech

Alright boys, take a knee.

Now, you’re all middle schoolers, so I’m not going sugar coat this. We’re getting our taints waxed and spackled out there. This is the biggest game of our professional lives. This is our moment in the sun. Division 2 regional semi-finals. Against our arch-fucking-rivals, the god damn Blue Jays. It’s always the god damn Blue Jays. Well, it all comes down to today, boys. It all comes down to this moment. Are you going to play ball or are you going to act like a bunch of pussy babies and let the Blue Jays ram their blue dicks down our throats?

I don’t know about you mother fuckers, but I didn’t come here to get my ass fucked today. I came here to fuck asses. Hard. With my dick. Nelson, now I know #14 has been on you like Asians on rice, but you need to keep your head in it. I mean, get your head deep in there and fuck his ass til you cum. One inch at a time. Until his asshole is so filled with your seed that he’ll be fart-gargling for two weeks.  That’s the only way we can win this thing.

If you’re not going to play like champions, then I’m getting the fuck out of here. I’m telling you right now. I have better things to do with my time than watch Ted Gentry and those bunch of fucking faggots fuck our asses back to the Middle Ages. I’m sick and fucking tired of losing to these pussy fucking cunt Blue Jays. I swear to fucking God if we don’t step it up, I can guarantee that you’ll all be bleeding out of you’re little middle school beanholes after practice on Tuesday. And you can take that to Joseph A. Bank.

Now, I know I haven’t been the perfect coach. Yeah, I was drunk at most of our practices. Yeah, I threw up in a helmet or two. Yeah, I can get a little physical when you don’t listen. Yeah, I can get a little physical when you do listen. Yeah, I might even be responsible for some of your parents’ pending divorces after boning your slut-ass mom – I’m talking to you Dwayne. And for the record, she was begging for it. As the French would say, “Hurting for a squirting.” I mean, Jesus, have some fucking self-respect, woman. I admit that I’m not proud of that stuff. Newsflash, I’m not perfect. I’m just one man. I have flaws, but I trained you the best I could and we’ve gotten this far. I can’t do anymore now. I’ve taught you everything I know. Just so happens that what I know are Jack Daniels and intimate descriptions of Dwayne’s Mom’s juicehole. What I’m saying is, I can’t win this for you. I pissed away my chances 15 years ago when I got kicked out of high school for slinging blow in the parking lot. So, if you can’t win it for yourselves, win this one for me. Your ole ballcoach. The Gipper. Don’t let me down.

There’s a time in every boy’s life were he steps up, his testicles descend to his knees, and be becomes a man. For some of us it happens when we realize that we have to become the caretaker of our retarded brother who always climbs the water tower and we have to burn the house down with our really fat, dead mom still in it. Maybe it happens when you and your friends go looking for a missing pirate ship, befriend a deformed but bighearted mutant, and find enough treasure to save everyone’s parents homes which were getting foreclosed. Fuck, sometimes it happens when you find out both your parents got eaten by giant ominous cloud rhinoseroses and so you fly around on a big piece of fruit with a bunch of bugs to get away from your whore aunts. And for some us, it happens when Mike Tomlinson’s sister walks out of her room with just a towel on and asks if we’ve seen her cell phone. But for you- no, for US, that time is now. Time for the scared little pussy babies to become the stuff of lore. Boyz II Men. Now let’s go out there and skull fuck these gingersnaps until our dicks fall off or die trying. Who’s withe me??!