He slit her throat, and watched as six pints of blood ruined the new floor that had taken him the best part of the day to lay That was typical of the woman Red was her favourite colour This would amuse her greatly Anything to cause him grief She was such a messy woman Shoes, don’t get him started on shoes One hundred pairs Who needs one hundred pairs of shoes He should phone the police They would understand Probably be sympathetic Surprised you never done it years ago mate In fact, best thing to do is cut her head off Put it on a pole Hang it up in the street to deter other women That’s what he would do It worked, women were running and screaming everywhere He watched as ten Police cars stopped off to congratulate him You okay mate Yes thanks lads, never been better Just cooking Mary for lunch.
Might be described as a gruesome scenario.
However, considering those one hundred pairs of shoes, you may have been a wee tardy in your reaction.
And despite your petty protestations, Mary did turn out to be a woman of taste.
Entertaining read!
I love this! It reminds me of something I wrote a year ago or so (Six Stages of Grief?), & it felt so satisfying to paint a scene so grotesque, as a tribute to all the jerks that have pulled my chain over the years. I absolutely hate the way so many women are obsessed with all the superficial s**t required to adorn themselves & to feel pretty . . . a poem like this helps me bleed out the disgust. Thanks for giving me a nice leech job *smile* Fondly, Margie
Posted 6 Years Ago
6 Years Ago
We kicking a*s, Margie. Or cutting a*s.
I remember your six stages og grief. Probably where t.. read moreWe kicking a*s, Margie. Or cutting a*s.
I remember your six stages og grief. Probably where this came from. Need to go back to it now.
I like poetry and stories that tell me something.
Sometimes the shortest poems hit the hardest.
If I post something serious, don't worry, a funny poem will follow. Don't hesitate to tell me if my po.. more..