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Christmas Cheer

I like my winters like your frail form:

Garbed in white.

I like my carols like you and I:

Silent Night.

Just kidding;

You chewed through the tape.

Also related:

Statutory rape.


I like my snow like your face:

Packed into balls.

I like my carols like your vaginal tract piercings:

Deck the Halls.

Just kidding;

Ouch, that’s a bad section.

Also related:

Bacterial infection.


I like my sleigh ride interjections like your incessant complaints:

Come on, uh, ow, stop.

I like my carols like how we made love:

Up on the Housetop.

Just kidding; you fell right off.

Also related:

It wasn’t soft.


I like my family Christmases like tonight:

This is no occasion to fight, dear.

I like my carols like how we finished:

(It) Came Upon a Midnight Clear.

Just kidding;

But not really.

First World Problems

There are so many problems in the world

That people take for granted.

These problems exist

Beyond the scope of the average middle-class American’s daily life.

Cell phone died.

Gas prices are too high.

Nobody will fix the copy machine.

Our first world problems are first priority,

While their third world problems aren’t even fourth.




And even within our America

Exists suffering that escapes our notice

From the seven-year-old fighting cancer

To the mother of two,

A slave to her abusive husband’s

Every whim.


Erectile dysfunction sucks ass.

A Christmas to Remember

I remember with great fondness the Christmas I had as a twelve-year-old boy. I remember awakening to the smell of burnt bacon and scurrying down twelve flights of stairs to our living room, scrambling under the magnificent Christmas tree in the corner, and flinging aside box after box meant for sister, brother, cousin until I found my very own present. I tore off the tag – “From Santa” – and shredded away mountain after mountain of gift wrap until none remained. Only then could I fully realize what stood before me. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I cried out with joy,

“I can’t believe it! My very own guillotine!”

I was so excited to try it out that I chose not to attend Christmas mass that year and instead wheeled my guillotine out of my house and onto the neighborhood street, where several of my peers were, building snowmen, throwing snowballs, and making snow angels. I approached my next door neighbor, Tommy Winstonworth. He was building a snow fort. I hated Tommy Winstonworth because he always cheated in tetherball.

“Hello, Tommy Winstonworth.”

Tommy Winstonworth looked up and saw my guillotine. “What’s that?”

“It’s my guillotine, and I’m going to use it on you.”

I then yanked Tommy Winstonworth by the scruff of his neck and dragged him over to my guillotine. “No! I won’t let you guillotine me!” he yelled. I ignored him, placed his head on the headrest, and yanked the release handle. The blade of the guillotine fell, cutting cleanly through Tommy Winstonworth’s pale neck. Blood splattered everywhere, staining the snow and my winter coat.

“Ah!” I exclaimed, “What a great guillotine!”

I went back inside my house, and my mom gave me a mug of hot chocolate with jumbo marshmallows. It was the best hot chocolate I ever tasted. That Christmas was the best Christmas ever.

A Love Poem

I miss you

I miss your soft caress

The feel of your cheek

Pressed against mine

I miss your gentle kisses

Your sweet whispers

Your sparkling eyes

Always paired with a coy smile

But most of all

I miss your blowjobs


Masturbation doesn’t cut it

And you’re a cunt for breaking up with me just because I wanted to try anal

Elena and the Long Banana

This experimental piece was written with the intent to redefine the concept of the classic erotic novel. I believe I have succeeded, although at the cost of my shame. 

Elena rolled over in her bed and stretched. Her thin wool blanket fell to the floor, exposing her naked back to the bright morning sunlight. She rolled over again, letting the rays of sun dance across her voluptuous double D breasts, which rose and fell with accord to her gentle breathing. Elena yawned heavily, her mouth open wide enough to swallow a large Polish sausage. She delicately slipped off of her bed, the wooden floor creaking slightly under her weight, and began to walk to her kitchen, her curvaceous ass wiggling with each step.

Elena trotted over to her refrigerator and took out a carton of lactose-free milk. She tried to pour it into her glass, but distracted by the sudden movement of a bird outside, she spilled most of it on her nude form. The white liquid dripped down her chest, droplets of milk traversing down her flat stomach and all the way down her slender brown legs. Elena quickly grabbed a napkin and began rubbing down her wet body until everything from her toes to her nipples was dry. After successfully filling her glass with milk, Elena walked over to her kitchen counter, on which sat a bundle of bananas. She took the longest and fattest of the bunch and with a delicate finger unpeeled it, exposing its ripe white head to the kitchen air. Elena opened her mouth wide and bit, chewing slowly and deliberately. Her taste buds moaned in ecstasy as the bits of banana made their way down Elena’s oral pleasure canal, tossed around by the red monster that resided there, before being annihilated by her glimmering pearly whites.

Elena sighed – suddenly, she felt the urge to take it all in at once. The entrance to her digestion tunnel expanded to the point that a freight train could have easily passed through. Elena slowly took the remaining eleven inches of her banana and shoved it down her oral passage, taking care to remove the peel. She sucked on the throbbing yellow beast, savoring the flavor as it resonated through her taste buds. Elena moaned with pleasure, her naked body writhing with happiness. All of a sudden, Elena began to choke. Gasping for breath, she fell to the ground, passed out, and died.