Tag Archives: Relationships

False-Rape Culture

The marriage rate is going down

And many tears are falling.

The good men left and left behind

Some eyes bloodshot from bawling.

Men no longer mentor

Any women that they pay

Because they fear the power

Of what said women might say

And smart men will no longer talk

To strangers in a skirt

‘Cause they’re one false “j’accuse” away

From sleeping in the dirt.

Cats think that this circumstance

Is surely heavensent:

They live with 30-something women

Whose exes pay the rent.

Meanwhile the men rebuild themselves

From fighters into monks

And leave the chasing women

To the inner-city punks.

The West now walks on eggshells.

There is no doubt about it:

The feminists have made their beds

And now they lie about it.

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…Until The Courtyard In Question Turns Thirty, The Biological Clock Kicks In, And It Settles For The Secure-But-Unexciting Wall

I was a brick wall. So secure

There was nothing I could not endure,

Yet, while I’m safe in a fire

She wanted barbed wire

‘Cause “Barbed Wire is hotter for sure.”

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The Farmer’s Breakup

If you see a cow

Running o’er the fields of Maine

Please tell her that I was wrong

And to please come home again.

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How To Hedge Your Bets

If you’re a divorce lawyer

Being polygamous is wise

‘Cause you’ll get a lot of business

And you’re already good with lies.

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Bad Romance

I love you

Like Japan loves tentacles,

Like psychos love murder

And goth teens love pentacles.

I love you

Like Chris Pratt loves his raptors

And people with Stockholm

Syndrome love their captors.

I love you

Like a farmer loves cattle,

Like that one guy you know

Loves leather and a paddle.

I love you

Like Tarantino loves gore

And it’s for these reasons

I can’t see you no more.

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When “Beauty” Becomes An Industry

There are some people named “she”

Who want, to a man’s heart, the key

So they wear a disguise

For their tits, hips, and eyes

To find men who will “love me for me.”

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Maybe It Tasted Good A Few Years Ago?

I want a sandwich

With clams, beets, and garlic

Sprinkled with liver and thyme

Topped with two scoops

Of pistachio ice cream

And the zest of a two-week-old lime

All smeared on a loaf

Of gluten-free flatbread

Served on a hard rubber plate.

You get it when you order

A nice BLT.

I call it “The Internet Date.”

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