Sing-a-long with Poopy!

After being released from the hospital for my failed suicide attempt, I need something to brighten up another Christmas to be spent alone at my apartment, sitting on my cum crusted couch, jerking off to Max Hardcore videos. Otherwise, I might just try and slit my wrists again.

Come K5, let's sing some Christmas carols!


Leroy the Big-Lipped Nigger

Leroy the big-lipped nigger,had a very pushed in nose,and if you took his boots off,you would see eleven toes,all of the other negroes,used to laugh and call him "Bumbles"They wouldn't let poor Leroy,join in any negro rumbles

Then one balmy summer's eve,some dagos came to town,beatin' up polacks, beatin' up niggers,spreadin' their grease all around,

Leroy the big-lipped nigger,was polishing his Cadillac car,a little grease spattered on his windshield,he said "You G's have gone too fucking far"

Two little ginny's hit the ground,the others turned and ran,but there stood Leroy, wiggling his lips,with a shotgun in his hands,

Leroy the big-lipped nigger,is now doing ten to fifteen years,but you know what's even worse than that?His cellmates a polack with great big ears!


Santa's Whore is Coming to Town

You better not shout, you better not cry,you're gonna go dry, I'm telling you why,Santa's whore is coming to town...

She's making a fist, stroking it twice,grabbing your balls and checking for lice,Santa's whore is coming to town,

Oh, she blows it when it's flaccid,She'll hump it when it's stiff,She don't care if you're bad or good,She'll make you take a whiff,

You better watch out, she'll sit on your face,when your cock is dried out, she'll put your thumb in it's place.Santa's Whore is coming to town...

T'was the Night Before Doomsday

T'was the night before doomsday, and all through the house,every creature was fucking, even the mouse,Mom in her whorehouse and dad smoking grass,I'd just settled down for a nice piece of ass,When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,I got off of the bitch to see what was a matter,Out on the lawn, I saw a fat old drunk prick,I knew in a moment, it must be St. Nick!He came down the chimney, like a bat out of Hell,I knew in a moment, the fucker had fell,He filled all the stockings with pretzels and beer,and a big rubber dick for my brother, the queer,Then he flew up the chimney with a thunderous fart,the son of a bitch blew the chimney apart.He swore and cussed as he flew out of sight,"Piss on you fucks and have a hell of a night!"

How should I kill myself?

My life is empty. It needs to end now. Even normal days feel like despair. I'm gonna end it. Tonight...

Please answer the poll or reply below with the method in which I should kill myself. Even if it's gory or momentarily painful, I may be up to it. I hate this world so much that I want it to be traumatized when it sees my rotten, putrified corpse. I want pictures of my dead body posted on the internet for people to gawk at. I want my death to be art.

And now, I should tell you about the dream I had last night.

I was a young boy, maybe 11, and living at home with my mother. She was drunk again, chain smoking menthol cigarettes. She's forcing me to wear her panties (soiled ones from when she pissed herself drunk the night before) under my Osh Kosh jeans and I'm scrubbing the kitchen floor while she chugs vodka and reads Soap Opera Digest.

She slips on an area of linoleum I've just cleaned, and her three hundred pound body lands with her head audibly dinging the side of the stove. She falls to the ground, twitching, a jet of blood squirting out of her temple in time with her heartbeat.

I don't know why I didn't call 911. I don't know why I raped her dying body. I wanted her to feel as low and humiliated as I had growing up. My angry cock shoots come out of her mouth, making a big white and red puddle on the floor I'm cleaning.

But that still isn't enough. I get a can of lard from the fridge and grease my right arm up to the elbow. I ram my whole arm up her ass, a festering, shit smelling hole. I thought she was dead at that point, but she starts making a mewing noise from the pain. I keep shoving my arm up farther and farther, as far as it will go, until the noises stop and I'm pretty sure she's dead.

Getting my arm out is a problem though. I notice hard little white things around her anus that look like teeth. Her ass is eating my arm. I try to withdraw, but it's much harder than it was going in. I finally get to the point where only half my forearm is left inside, the rest of arm sleeved in blood and shit. My hand is caught on a ridge of her pelvic bone. I think I may be trapped and make one last attempt to shove backwards with all my might.

After great effort, my hand comes free, and with it comes about a half yard of her intesinal tract, laying out on the linoleum like a bloody tail. Three of my fingers have been gnawed off by something feral inside her and as I stare at the squirting stumps I scream myself awake and in a cold sweat.

Hell is other people.

My landlady left me a note saying I had to pay my balance of eighty dollars by today or I'll be evicted. Despite how much I loathe that whorecunt I call a mother, I called her today to see if she could hook me up with two-hundred dollars...

Of course, she was completely drunk when I called her at eleven AM. I could practically feel her spraying me with Club 500 gin through the receiver. I gave up after ten minutes of incoherent conversation.

But, seeing as I'm unemployed, I went over to her house anyway; a dilapidated shotgun shack in the middle of Mexicantown that she'd been living in ever since she burned down our last house by falling asleep with a Newport in her mouth. The back door is unlocked. This place has got to be like an ATM machine for every beaner in this neighborhood.

I call out for mom, but of course she's passed out on the couch with one of those court shows on; one of those shows she looks pathetic enough to guest on.

I go into her bedroom and look in her dresser where she keeps her cash. There's about a hundred and ninety left in there from the first of the month and I take it all. I search the whole thing and end up in her underwear drawer and shudder with the recognition of the trauma of childhood. I spit in her underwear drawer till my mouth is dry, then upzip my pants and urinate all over the pink parachutes she calls panties. I still quake with rage as I leave her shitty little house.

I go home. I pay off my landlord and blow of her "This is the last time, Peter..." threats. I hit the store and buy a couple weeks worth of groceries, enough to get to when my unemployment kicks in, hopefully. I have about fifty bucks left.

Most losers would drink their money away. While I can and do drink, I couldn't justify going to a bar right now. I need to bust a nut though. Fifty bucks isn't enough to get a call girl, but maybe a streetwalker.

I get in my Dodge and drive around the local pussy stank market. The cops have been out busting girls and it's cold out. The only girl is this black crackhead with gray skin who said her name is "Laqueesha" or something. She said she'd take twenty dollars if I let her take her back to my apartment and have her blow me.

My place still looks and smells like shit, but I'm not really bothered since this is a crackho. I usually don't consort with Negresses, but I figure if I close my eyes, I can pretend that she's white.

I sit her down on my couch and go to the bathroom and pull out my special buttplug. It's got these special bumps and ridges that fit my prostate perfectly. It looks like a big neon pink artichoke. I learned this trick years ago, and it makes the orgasm much more intense.

However, it is also insanely big. It takes a lot of lube and time for me to relax my anus enough to fit it inside. The first couple of tries don't work; it felt like my asshole was being torn apart goatse style. I lube up the plug even more. After ten minutes, I was able to jam it in far enough to get some loose beige shit on it (my diet has been atrocious lately), but still no aniss.

After working it for maybe fifteen minutes I finally got it to pop into my sphincter. I gasped and it took a second to take in all the pain and pleasure at once. It stiffened my cock up more than twenty pills of viagra could ever. Once I got ahold of myself, I stepped out to let the love begin.

"Laqueesha" apparently wasn't that patient because Laqueesha had taken off. I knew I shouldn't have given that bitch the money in advance. Not only that, but she'd also taken my bowl of change off the coffee table, my portable CD player, and my Gamecube. I plop down on the couch and jerk myself off bitterly, thinking about how I'm gonna hunt that bitch down and ram all the crack she's inevitably going to buy with my goods down her throat at once. Hopefully it'll make her OD.

I ejaculate and wipe my come against the arm of the couch (which is becoming quite crusty) and cry myself to sleep.

I love animals.

Please forgive me. I've been in a desperate mental state lately...one that could bring me to the point of seeing a dog getting hit by a skateboard as funny. Let me state, for the record, that I do not condone animal abuse. On the contrary, I love animals.

Please accept my apologies.

Animal abuse.

Am I an asshole for thinking this is extremely funny?

Maybe I'm just desensitized after stomping that dog to death earlier today...

I hate animals.

So I finally left the apartment the other day. I probably look and smell indistinguishable from the homeless piece of shits that camp out in the alley ways around here, yet they stil try and hit me up for change. Fucking idiots.

I decided to go to the grocery store, to load up on Hot Pockets, frozen pizza, Ben and Jerrys, and maybe some malt liquor. I dont' really drink that much, but I have time to start.

I wander around the store, get all the stuff in my shopping cart. Store security is eyeballing me like I'm gonna steal their fucking cart. I get all the food I'll need for two weeks and stand in line. Some soccer mommy wrinkles her nose when I go by and I wonder if her Botoxed up face will explode if I were to suddenly hit her. I don't hit her. I'm a weakling.

I go to the cashier and when they aske for my Safeway card I realize I don't have it with me. Oh well. They ring it up and the bill ends up being about thirty dollars more than I thought it would be. Question: why does having that card make shit so much cheaper? Is it really worth thirty dollars to track my fucking buying habits.

I groan, but give them my check card anyway. DECLINED. I check my other credit cards, but they're all expired. I swear the gooks over at Golden Shanghai double charged me for the egg drop soup and kung-pao kitten they delivered the other night. The stuff kept me on the toilet for an hour.

Anyway, I walk out of the store, embarrassed once again. At least some union flunky will have to restock all the stuff in my cart.

I duck down an alleyway to go back home, and see laying next to a dumpster a old mangy dog. I sympathize with the dog. The dog looked exactly like I felt. I let it sniff my hand for a second, then suddenly the urge to stomp the dog to death went through me.

Doing something so horrible wasn't as hard as I thought. It only whimpered with the first few kicks. Then I stomped on it's rib cage (sounded like breaking dry spaghetti) and it could barely breathe much less cry. It didn't bleed that much either. It was really like kicking this fur-lined bag full of bones. It bled from the mouth some, and towards the end a couple bones were jutting out of it's skin.

It was still alive though, looking up at me. I tried to put it out of it's misery by stomping on it's muzzle a few times. But it kept drawing breath. Eventually I said fuck it and stumbled on back home, where I picked the fur out of the waffle of my boots with an old chopstick.

I haven't left the apartment in five days.

Since losing my job and my girlfriend last Friday, I haven't stepped foot outside my apartment. At first, I allowed myself a little bit of time to get my shit together, but now I'm getting worried. I think I'm afraid to leave now.

I have my windows completely covered up so the minimal amount of sunlight can come through. You know, like I'm some sort of meth addict, even though I'm not. Even without doing a stimulant stronger than Red Bull, I still cannot sleep more than an hour or two consecutively. I think I'm going insane.

All I do is watch TV and mastrubate. It's amazing how much I mastrubate. I don't even need porn any more. I can jerk off to June Cleaver in Leave it To Beaver re-runs. Other than that, I notice how the commercials for day time TV are targeted towards the "pathetic loser" demographic (like those "get your GED" ads, or "turn this wreck into this check" lawyer ads"). Then I realize with growing unease that I'm becoming a part of that caste.
I haven't changed my clothes or bathed in the past five days either. My Big Johnson T shirt has been accumulating grease and sauce stains since I'm too lazy to get up and grab some napkins. On the front of my white boxers is a crusty yellow blotch of dried semen. On the back there's a big brown skidmark. I probably smell like a yeti. I don't care. I'm the only person who has to endure my company.

I ran out of food two days ago, and have been living on delivery food. Either Dominoes Pizza or takeout from the chink restaurant down the street. I only live two blocks away and it still takes them forty minutes to deliver their overpriced dogmeat, broccoli, sprouts and rice to my door. Chinese efficiency my ass...

Meanwhile the pile of trash in my kitchen is becoming a landfill. I no longer answer the phone, since I'm sure it's just the collection agencies I was dodging even when I had a job. I'm also trying to dodge my landlord, who I'm sure is trying to speak with me about the smell coming out of my place. Maybe, if I kill myself, I'll rot and it will stink the place of really bad. I'd be free of this worthless life and that bitch who charges me eighty bucks just because I turned in the rent a couple days late will have to steam clean my permeated flesh out of the carpet. Haha, cunt.

My life is worthless. I'm worthless. I want to die.

This has been a really crappy week...

First my girlfriend dumps me.

Then I lose my job over some bullshit.

Plus it's Christmas.

Ho ho ho. I need to vent.

Me and Felicia had been going out for a few weeks now. Met her through an ad on Craigslist. First, she totally misrepresented herself. She said she was "normal girl sized" which I take to mean that while she didn't look like Lara Flynn Boyle, she wouldn't be Shamu. It was closer to the latter. She also said she reads a lot, which is technically true if you count rereading Harry Potter books over and over again. She also forgot to mention she had three kids by three different daddies, had some rather gnarly stretchmarks, talked with this whitegirl-wigger lisp, and despite that went to church regularly. I didn't think these red-staters hung out on Craigslist?

Anyway, she was the only person to respond the picture of my cock I posted up there. And though we didn't have much in common, I figured could be unjudgemental, especially since I haven't had sex that I haven't paid for in two years. And by the third date, I was warming up to her. She did keep it pretty real. I figured one more date and a lot of malt liquor and I'd be, as she says, "hittin' it."

After date three, she doesn't return my calls. I left like twelve messages on her machine every day for the past week. She mentioned she worked at Dairy Queen, so I scoured every single one within five miles of her apartment (she doesn't own a car either) until I found the one she worked at. Then she has the nerve to get mad at ME for having to come to her to just to talk. The blue haired manager told me to leave, and she said she didn't want to speak to me again. Oh well, fuck her. I was way out of her league anyway. I called an escort service and blew two hundred on this stuck up chick who would only give me handjob if I gave her another fifty bucks.
I couldn't really afford that, with Christmas and all that going on, so when I went in to work yesterday and found out that they're firing me for sexual harrasment, it really fucked me up.
Let me explain...we had our company christmas party last weekend, and it was an open bar so of course everyone was trashed. A bunch of us (including my supervisor) have a crush on this intern in the sales department, and were wondering what color panties she wore.

Now, this chick is usually pretty cool with all the guys. She'll be talking about porn and all that with us, so I figure no big deal. Since those pussies woulnd't find out, I DID. I didn't lift of her skirt or anything. I just went to her table and asked what color panties she wore. She told me to fuck off and stop embarassing her infront of her boss, so I did and I thought we were cool.

Anyway, my boss calls me in and says my behavior opened the company up to a lawsuit and they had to fire me. Well fuck them. Quantum Sales Solutions, I hope you know that tomorrow I'm contacting an attorney and suing your company out of existance and I'll be laughing all the way to my condo in Aspen on the money I win from the suit. You just fucked yourselves. HAHAHA.

I feel like pork chops...

This has got to be one of the funniest things I've seen in awhile. Unless you're with PETA. THen you need to fuck off and die.

"He's just not that into you."

thats the title of some crappy chick book whose author is making the rounds on news programs lately. CNN was running (I wasn't really paying attention to it, I was just trying to organize my porn collection) and I heard that phrase right before they showed a picture of Scott Peterson.

My words of wisdom for Lacie Peterson. "He's just not that into you."

Oh, and it's bullshit that her fucking fetus counts for 2nd degree murder. Stupid fucking religious right. If it has a tail *it has no fucking rights*. Get it str8. Word.