Lay Claim to Corruption

Oh Hobobob, your last post was so graphic.

So? That's why I put that disclaimer in front of the blog. You're going to see full frontal male and female nudity, sperm, penises, vaginas, graphic death, violence, animal sex, sex between fat people, guns and hot looking women shooting guns. I'm going to show it all, because it's on the Internet. It's all there, and it compliments my thinking to a finish. Yeah, sorry for those with weak stomachs, but I wasn't saying anything beyond the ordinary, or insulting. I wasn't saying anything that we don't already know well as adults.

Of all the women that I've ever talked to about eating sperm said to me, "Actually, it isn't all that bad." Made me blink. Like I said, I'd rather pass on that experience. Yep. But what am I talking about now? Well, not sperm as a snack although its an 'exceptional nutritional supplement', I'm talking about the rest of my day other than eating SPAM (SpermHam). I bought a new French Press. Yeah it was cheap at a discount at Starbucks and I've always wanted one. So my poor, wretched ass got one. It's a coffee maker in two parts. One part you fill with coffee and water, and the other part is a plunger that pushes down a coffee filter, pressing the grinds to the bottom and leaving the refreshing coffee above.

Why do coffee like this? Well when you use a drip coffee maker, the hot water passes through the coffee grounds quicker and so are less potent. But when you let the coffee grounds just sit in boiling water, you bleed out every bit of coffee from the grounds, making a more potent coffee. And that's what I like, a potent cup of coffee.

So I take the mug-like, glass bottom of the French Press, fill it with water and stick the sucker into the microwave. Well, it says boiling water, so you know, I have to overdo this shit and set it for three minutes even though it only takes one minute to boil water. Then I take this nuclear fuck out of the microwave and put a scoop of coffee in it, like the instructions said, and the motherfucker exploded.

Not like with a bang, where shattered glass when everywhere, but rather a whoosh, like a volcano, shooting up into the air. The sonofabitch sent foaming water and coffee grounds every fucking where. And if there is one thing that I hate is coffee grounds. I can't stand them. They are like grit, and I can't stand grit. So now I'm faced with taking fifteen minutes to clean all of this shit up like a big dummy and try all over again. The next time I put it in the microwave for two minutes and put the press in the sink when I add the scoop of coffee. No explosion this time. I fill it with five scoops of coffee and wait four minutes for it to steep.

When done, I use the plunger end, push the grounds firmly to the bottom, and pour my first cup of coffee from the thing. Now that's fucking coffee. That shit is as strong as an athlete's armpit. Wakes me the fuck up immediately. I spring into action and get shit done, and get another cup of course. I'm hopping off the walls here, and have this bionic coffee for breakfast, lunch and dinner. So what happens when you drink that much strong coffee during the entire day? Your asshole puckers? You talk in code? You speak four foreign languages, and suffer from glossolalia? NO, you can't get to sleep. You can't. Your ass is up, and it's gonna stay up.

I'm hyper, I'm jumpy, I'm punchy. I'm nervous. I take pills for nervousness. What the fuck am I doing to myself? I have to stay off the fucking French Press a little. You can make some damn potent coffee in that shit. I stay up and work on my blog, then the Novel, then write poetry, then surf the web for pictures for my blog, then pace back and forth for awhile, then lay around. I do all this shit in the span of ten minutes. I shit you not. I am suffering from ADHD, Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder (No, this is a real term, look it up). This is what causes that shit. French Presses!

But I love the fucking thing. It makes a great cup of coffee, honestly. So I stay up. Working on this and that, this and that until about three in the morning when the engines peter out and I slowly get tired. But I am cranking out poems. I'm having a blast running on blood sugar and caffeine energy. I know I don't do this often, because I WRITE BOOKS!! Just look on the right; but I do publish some of my poetry on my blog, just for shits and giggles. Here's one I wrote today:

YES, LET'S FUCK

Yes, I want to fuck you
there, I said it
so what's the matter with that?
People have been fucking
for ages

Yes, I want to
Not for reasons that you
may think...
I just happen to like
the shoes you are wearing today

Yes, I want to
and don't think that I'm trying
to be sly
basically, I'll say anything
to get past all of your reasons
otherwise

You make it very hard
to get inside those pants
but I'll not stop trying
I am drawn by what's inside
like a moth to flame

Yes, you make it very hard
you really do
and I want to use it against you
yes, tonight I want to screw

So lets be mature about this
and give this man his due
because
Yes, goddamn it, yes!
I want to fuck you

I wanted to make it touching and heartfelt. Soft and passionate. Then I said, NAAAAAH. I wanna fuck, simple as that. Too bad men and women can't talk like that normally. I think if we could come out and just express ourselves to women in the King's English, we'd get further in life than we do. Especially when it comes down to fucking. Sorry if I'm using a crude term for human copulation, but that's what were doing with we take our clothes off and bump uglies under the covers. I wanted to express that in poetic fashion but I was hyper as a mouse in a room full of rocking chairs, so it came out that way.

Well I've done enough for tonight, spouted enough madness for a homeless man living in a little box, and eating SPAM sandwiches. One day though, all of this will change, and I'll get out of this hole, and live my life once again.

Then the sun will really rise on this life of mine, and I'll be bathed in the warmth of its glow.

Yeah, and if you believe all of that candy assed shit, I have a bridge to sell you in fucking Brooklyn.

Hobobob