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  • biggatorhear biggatorhear Feb 4, 2009 10:35 PM Flag

    BIG DAY TO-MORROW

    "She should have died hereafter;
    There would have been a time for such a word.
    To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
    Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
    To the last syllable of recorded time;
    And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
    The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
    Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
    That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
    And then is heard no more. It is a tale
    Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
    Signifying nothing."

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    • Last night I had a dream.

      It was a dreamy dream.

      Rain was falling ever so lightly.

      The effervescent silver moonlight danced in the air, or some crap like that.

      And then… I saw something.

      At first I didn't know what it was.

      But it turns out it was just this big ugly skank driving a minivan.

      And she kept swerving over into my lane, almost hitting me, because she was talking on her stupid cell phone that she probably bought from some GED loser working at one of those kiosks that you see in the malls.

      And then I said, “MOVE, YOU COW!”

      Then after she sped up and slowed down for about the ninth time, I slammed on the accelerator and smashed into her minivan, right at the spot where she had a stupid bumper sticker that said “My child is a very special little queef at Blah Blah Blah Elementary School.”

      And she wiped out the guard rail and sailed through the effervescent silver moonlight, landing upside down in a gully.

      At first, I was going to just keep driving because I didn't want my #6 Combo from Wendy's that was sitting on the passenger seat to get cold.

      But then I had a change of heart, so I turned back and made my way down to the wreck at the bottom of the ditch.

      I thought maybe I should get her some band-aids, or take her to a vet or something.

      The ugly skank was groaning, and I noticed she was stretching out her hand, trying to reach something.

      It was her cell phone.

      That was the last straw.

      So I broke an 8-foot branch off a nearby tree and proceeded to transfer her to heaven via a skull fracture.

      Then I wrote this poem, drove over to her house, and read it to her little queefy kid.

      http://paulstoecklein.blogs.com/you_had_me_at_idiot/poems_for_people_who_hate_poems/

      If we're going to have a "post stupid shit" competition, I'm in!

      • 1 Reply to sumbankerdude
      • Macbeth?



        By the pricking of my thumbs,
        something wicked this way comes.



        So foul and fair a day I have not seen.



        A drum, a drum!
        Macbeth doth come.



        All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee,
        thane of Glamis!



        What are these that look not like
        the inhabitants o' the earth, and yet are on't?



        Speak, if you can: what are you?



        Hail!
        /What is't you do?



        Hail!



        Hail!



        Hail to thee, thane of Cawdor.



        All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter!



        If you can look into the seeds time
        and say which grain will grow and which will not,



        speak then to me,



        who neither beg nor fear
        your favours nor your hate.

 
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