Why We Hate The Other Team

Son, you need to learn teamwork

So we signed you up for sports.

You’ll run and play with other kids

And have fun like your daddy did.

You and your team will join as one

Practicing out under the sun.

And when it’s time to play a game

You’ll meet another team that looks the same.

They’re just like you in every way.

They’ve been practicing day after day.

But the color of their shirt is different

And so you have to play to win.

But winning is not enough it seems.

You have to hate the other team.

They may not seem bad, I know that’s true

But you wear red and they wear blue.

That’s enough to put them on the other side

And make them worthy for you to despise.

Oh, you guys are blue, that’s even worse.

If they wear red they’re worse than dirt.

Don’t just try to win, son, try

To win so much you make them cry.

You’ll feel good when they feel bad.

It’ll excite you to see them sad.

They’re your mortal enemies, it’s true.

Hate their hair and hate their shoes.

Hate the town that they come from.

You hate their dads, I’ll hate their sons.

If you have a chance to rip their shirts,

Take any chance to make them hurt.

It’s okay to try to cause them pain.

They’re not like you, they’re not the same.

They may act like you and it might seem

They’re just like you, but they’re the other team.

You must learn to take their joy as strife,

Because sports are a metaphor for life.

When you grow up, you aren’t scoring tries,

You’re trying to make the others die.

And this hatred it must grow and stay

When people are different in some key way.

They may be from a different land

Or have a different god with a different plan.

The priests can talk of peace and love

Which sound great, until push comes to shove.

Then we’ll ignore what our gospels say

Because of something from forgotten days.

But the worst are those that dress as sheep.

Who claim to love the land in which you sleep.

They look like us, they’re from our town.

But they support different leaders to wear the crown.

So they must be destroyed, our hate unabated.

Disagreements aren’t enough, they must be hated.

Which is why our games mean so much to us.

They teach us to hate, and they teach us to cuss.

Sports teach you how to best live your life,

Angry and bitter, with bellies of spite.

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Maybe Tomorrow Will Suck Less

We’ve come to the end of a very rough day

And in times like this, we can only pray

As we brush our teeth and begin to undress

And hope that maybe tomorrow is gonna suck less.

It won’t be good, that’d be too much to ask

And you’ll hate all of your menial, mind-numbing tasks.

As you get older, those tasks will get longer

Until you turn twenty-one and can drink something stronger.

Even that escape will be taken away.

Society hates when you drink in the day.

So you’re stuck in this cycle until the day that you die.

Every night being forced to repeat the same lie.

You see, in order for you to deceive

Yourself, the lie must be one you believe.

So you can’t think that tomorrow will be the best,

Or even good, but maybe it could suck less.

And the best part of all, sometimes it’s true.

Sometimes you won’t have a whole lot to do.

You can sit on your couch and forget life exists.

And avoid putting up with anyone’s shit.

Most days, however, are a pile of crap

As life keeps you caught in its miserable trap.

There are things you will do to make matters worse

Like form relationships, those things are a curse.

Now you have their problems to bother you too,

And if you have kids, well, you’re royally screwed.

You can’t even hide from life in your bed.

That’s right, kid, you weren’t really wanted.

Your parents thought they’d escape their pain by fucking

Each other, when they’d have been better off licking and sucking.

Don’t listen to what they tell you, all kids are the worst.

Their life was bad enough, then you came, you curse.

Sorry, that devolved into a bit of a rant.

I don’t regret it, you need to know where you stand.

Anyway, as you get older, it doesn’t subside.

Life gets worse and worse ‘til you die.

So every night get on your knees and pray

To a God that doesn’t care what you say.

Don’t ask or expect for your life to go well.

Life is a boring repetitive hell.

Every day will suck from now ‘til your dead

But maybe tomorrow might just suck less.

A Christmas Release

After 25 years, Sadie was released.

Kimmy and Timmy were long since deceased.

Timmy was shanked, and died in great pain,

And Kimmy OD’ed from the drugs she shot in her veins.

But Sadie didn’t care about their pain or their strife.

It wasn’t the first time he’d fucked up a life.

Sadie went on a journey, searching his soul.

Nah, just kidding, he decided to crash at the North Pole.

He hadn’t seen Santa in years,

So he showed up with several cases of beer.

Sadie knocked on the door and waited a bit

Until Santa opened with a shout of “Oh, shit,

What are you doing here, you dumb fucking slouch?”

“Fuck off, Santa, I’m here to crash on your couch,”

“Sadie, go away, I can’t have you here.

You know I’m busy, this time of year.”

“No one wants your toys, they’re so fucking old.

Kids would rather have the weed that I’ve sold.”

“Now, Sadie, I don’t know if that’s true…”

“Shut up, Santa, I know just what to do.

Go around and gather up all your slaves.

We’ll work them to death, ‘til they’re in early graves.”

“Now, Sadie, you know they’re called elves.

Some work in factories, some spy on shelves.”

“You spy on little kids while they sleep?

I think that’s awesome, but you know I’m a creep.

Anyway, we’ll have them make something the kiddies can use.

In fact, you might even say it’s something they will abuse.”

“Is it drugs?  It’s drugs, isn’t it?” Santa asked, shaking his head.

“No, Sadie, I’m not giving little kids meth.”

“Giving? We’re selling,” Sadie said with a smirk.

“Once I learn how to deliver to jerks.”

Santa sighed, “I guess we can use my reindeer and sled.”

“Uh, reindeer?  You mean those things in the shed?”

“What did you do?” Santa’s voice was thick from defeat.

“I guess from your tone they weren’t meant to eat.”

“That’s it.  I’m done.  Get out we are through.”

“Yeah, right.  Who are you?

Don’t forget, Santa, you and I, we are twins,”

Sadie said, approaching Santa with a grin.

“Sadie, what do you plan to do?”

“I plan to first murder, then become you.”

“Please, no,” Santa said as he let out a scream.

Sadie laughed. “Now I can fuck shit up beyond my wildest dreams.”

Daddy’s Going to Jail

Well, son, it’s time for daddy to go away

And though normally it’s because I don’t want to stay

With you and mom, you two are the worst.

Whatever, I’m sorry, this speech ain’t rehearsed.

Anyway, just know, I don’t want to be leaving.

Well, I do, but I don’t want to go where I’m heading.

You know how your friend Jimmy’s daddy goes away for a while?

That guy with the living room in vintage Hollywood style?

He has to go out of town for his work

While leaving his wife for the mailman to pork.

Man, that mom is a nice piece of ass.

I wonder if she’d fuck me if I sold her some grass.

Your mom would be pissed after I pulled that stunt.

Still, I wouldn’t mind licking her…uh, butt?

Sorry, forgot I was talking to a five-year old kid.

A kid who’s too dumb to know what sex is.

Anyway, Jimmy’s dad leaves for a week and he doesn’t shed tears.

You might want to, because I’ll be gone for three to five years.

You see, this time daddy is going to jail.

It’s a place for people that society’s failed.

See it’s not daddy’s fault that he sold all those drugs.

Daddy’s daddy didn’t give enough hugs.

Well, he did, but that isn’t the point.

The point is it’s dumb to ban a joint.

Or the oxycontin that I sold to those kids.

It’s not my fault one didn’t know what his limit is.

Or was, I guess, now that he’s dead.

I traded it for fifteen-year old head.

You see, the man passes laws against love

Or at least sex with a minor without wearing a glove.

Which is ironic, because now daddy’s going upstate

To a place that’s a safe space to commit anal rape.

Though daddy will be pounding unwilling cellmates each day

That probably won’t stop him from getting the AIDS.

Which I’ll bring home from prison and give to your mommy

Before running off to some ranch with a commie

Who’s younger, prettier, and a better lay

Who’s running from a daddy who beats her each day.

The point is remember that your daddy got screwed

By society, and which actions it considers lewd.

So while daddy’s gone, remain strong and stout,

And hold onto these pills until daddy gets out.

You’re Perfect The Way You Are

You’re perfect the way you are, you know that it’s true,

Don’t let anyone say anything different to you.

Their opinions don’t matter, don’t let their words sting.

Only your feelings mean anything.

You’re smart, and beautiful, you can’t do any wrong.

You’ll always be successful, you’re so fucking strong.

Who cares if you do things that others call strange?

It’s nothing about you, everyone else has to change.

You’re right to get upset when people stop and they stare.

They’re assholes, it’s not because you have purple hair.

And those sleeve tattoos, I love how they make you unique,

You and everyone else in your clique.

I love your decision not to conform

By doing everything that’s becoming the norm.

And if you’re fat, you should know that it isn’t your fault.

It’s the patriarchy that won’t let you put down that fork.

You have a right to be called healthy, whether or not it’s real.

What’s true isn’t as important as how it makes you feel.

You’re compassionate, you post your causes on Facebook for all to see.

Who cares if it won’t actually help anybody?

You don’t have time to volunteer, you have too much to do

Like checking to see if your Tumblr page has a view.

But by posting on Facebook you’re part of the cause,

To change society and all of its multiple flaws.

It’s all the fad to accept yourself as you are.

Instead of improving let’s just lower the bar.

If anyone contradicts you in any way,

Their opinions don’t matter, only you get a say.

You have a right not to hear things you don’t want to hear.

The only opinions that can be expressed are the ones to which you adhere.

No one should tell you you’re wrong in any way.

Wanting to do something makes it okay.

You were in the right all those times you cheated and lied.

If it kept you happy then it was justified.

The counselor you saw caused a bit of emotional strife

By suggesting improvements, so you were right to destroy his life.

You have an absolute right to go anyplace,

Without seeing something unpleasant, the world’s your safe space.

You’re mommy’s snowflake, now get some sleep.

Tomorrow we’ll celebrate when you turn thirty-three.

What You Will Be When You Grow Up

Your mother told me what you learned today,

Though I don’t know why we pretend to have happy homes in this day and age.

Anyway, your teacher said you can be whatever you want to be.

She’s right, of course, but take a moment to see

The limitations that your teacher left out

In all the choices she told you about.

You’re not going to be the next Super Bowl champ.

Daddy’s short, fat and white and running gives him a cramp.

You’ve inherited these genes, it’s sad but it’s true

But there’s lots you can do.  If you stay in school

It won’t matter a bit, though your teacher says so.

When it comes to success, it’s more who you know.

Since you’re kind of a loser, that route is in doubt.

Nobody likes you since you breathe from the mouth.

You could sleep around, it isn’t quite hooking,

Though that probably won’t work since you aren’t that good-looking.

And you can’t buy your friends, since you aren’t rich.

Don’t blame me for that, your mom spends like a bitch.

Or blame the liberals for keeping up with the times.

In the good old days you’d earn working in the coal mines.

Back to the problem at hand, what you’ll be when you grow up.

I can see from this conversation that you want to throw up.

Another limitation on your possibilities for success.

It looks to me like you can’t handle the stress.

A start up or owning your business is out.

On the plus side, we’re narrowing it down.

Sports are out, you’re too weak to throw

And nobody likes you, so no CEO.

You’ll never be able to get by on your looks.

You’ve no choice but to get by on the books.

One problem there, you’re too fucking dumb.

You’re 8 years old and you still suck your thumb.

Smarts are out, you’re almost braindead.

Which gives just one option for you to get ahead.

Work really hard, but you know that idea’s crazy.

Face it, son, you’re too goddamn lazy.

Where’s that leave us, now that we’ve gotten this far?

Let’s look at what you’ll hope for if you shoot for the stars.

Maybe middle management, but that’s probably a stretch.

Working on cars would be a good catch.

That’s too much to hope for, it’s probably less.

Either of these jobs would be a success.

Get used to cleaning, or flipping burgers.

You should probably learn how welfare works.

With all this in mind, remember this, little man.

If you kill yourself daddy will understand.

It’s Okay To Be Different

I heard you got beat up like you were a snitch

And came home crying like a little bitch.

Sometimes kids can be real mean,

But sometimes things are as they seem.

Face it, kid, you’re fucking weird.

To social norms you don’t seem to adhere.

I know you think your quirks make you unique

When they really only make you a geek.

It’s alright, kid, it’s great to be you

As long as you like being forced to eat poo.

If you don’t like getting shoved in trash bins

I think it’s time you learn to fit in.

I know being different is something everyone sells,

But only if you’re different in the same ways as everyone else.

If it’s in ways they don’t like you’ll be beaten and shoved.

I know you think it’s because kids can be rough.

As you grow older it only gets worse.

Now you only get shoved in the dirt.

Later on you’ll be ostracized and dismissed as a clown.

Your unpopular views will get shouted down.

People like people who don’t think like a clone,

Only when those views are variants of their own.

There is room for nuances ever so slight,

As long as you stay generally on the same side.

If you diverge, well, good luck finding friends.

Even worse, you might not be able to make meet your ends.

That’s a complicated way of saying you can’t get hired.

If they can find justification you might even be fired.

So you see it’s okay to dissent

If you want to spend life outside the fence.

But if you don’t want to be on the margins

Then you need to strike up a bargain.

Parrot the views that everyone speaks

And pick some token thing to claim you’re unique.

Like some harmless tattoo or maybe a piercing.

Make sure it’s something that everyone’s getting.

If you want to look like you’re taking a stand,

Make sure your cause is championed by a band.

But most of all, remember, it’s alright to be different,

Just don’t be so different that you get your ass kicked.

Don’t Fear The Monsters Under Your Bed

July 5, 2017

Now that we’ve read our stories and said our good nights,

I know there’s one other thing that gives you a fright.

Don’t worry, son, I’ve heard what you said

And I’ll check for monsters under your bed.

I was young once, so I know how you feel,

But know this, son, those monsters aren’t real.

There’s nothing down there that’s can hurt you

So close your eyes tight, and sleep the night through.

Monsters are real, they just don’t live in your closet.

They’re hanging around where you least expect it.

Yes, my son, there’s still much to fear,

Like the men that you see, reeking of beer.

Monsters don’t have horns or bright eyes.

The most dangerous are adept at disguise.

The men mentioned above are most easy to see

Laying in streets and reeking of pee.

They’ll hassle and annoy you, asking for change.

They’re mostly not bad, they’re mostly insane.

Some of them are insane enough to hurt you.

They’re still not quite bad, they just don’t know what they do.

Others are a different kind of sick.

They know what they do, and they hurt you for kicks.

You’ll meet them first when you get into school.

They’re tough to pick out because most kids are cruel.

But some of these mean kids will never grow up.

They end up adults, who end up locked up.

Fearing them, though, is only a start.

Most of those ones aren’t very smart.

The dangerous ones know how to blend in

Acting normal while their urges drive them to sin.

You can’t see them but these monsters are all around you.

They could be a parent or a teacher in school.

Some of them know what they do is wrong,

And after they’ll hurt you the shame will be strong.

They’ll feel bad and cry over their evil deed.

A lot of good that will do you after you’ve tasted their seed.

The scars you will bear for the rest of your time,

And if they’re really wicked, they’ll relish their crime.

They’re smart and they’re masterful in deceit.

They might be police, they might be your priest.

You might be alone with them in a church,

Because in places you’re comfortable is where they will lurch.

They use their positions to build up your trust

Before making you the target of their lust.

Some of them are even more extreme.

They just want to be able to make you scream.

Seconds become hours, you’re in so much pain

And in this state for days you’ll remain.

All caused by someone you thought was a friend.

Friendship will be how you meet your end.

Stranger danger is a slogan of little use

When there’s a more likely source of abuse.

There’s many, many people whom you should fear

Even though you’ve known them for years.

Trust no one, son, be always on guard

Whether people are nice, mean, or seem a retard.

Literally everyone constitutes a threat.

One more thing, before I lay you to bed.

There’s one monster out of all that’s most bad.

He’s the one in here now, the one you call dad.

So turn over, son, and don’t make a peep

Because I’m pretty drunk, and your mom is asleep.

It’s Not Okay to Poop

June 7, 2017

Hey there, now kid, let me explain to thee

Some things that go on in all bodies.

You know how you eat when you grow hungry?

Well, that food it travels into your tummy

Where acid turns the food into goop.

Nutrients get absorbed, the rest become poop.

And that poop all has to go somewhere,

So it comes out the hole that we all have down there.

You see it’s natural and fine.

In fact you must poop to stay alive.

What’s that, kid, you say I digress?

You asked why I’m pooping on your mommy’s chest?

You know how sometimes moms and dads kiss

To show love, well, it’s sort of like this.

Sometimes that kiss becomes something more

That we call sex, but sometimes sex is a bore

So adults try something to spice things up

Like play with the butt or peeing in cups.

That’s what was going on when you walked through the door.

Mommy and I just wanted to explore.

You’ll learn someday, it’s often surprising

What you’ll find that you like when you push your horizons.

Pooping on people has many fans.

It has a long history. It’s from the Germans.

They thought licking ass would be lots of fun.

It’s certainly not the worst thing they’ve done.

I hope that this all answers your question,

And gives you a preliminary lesson.

What’s that? Now you want to know why mom’s bound and gagged?

Why her hands are tied and her mouth stuffed with a rag?

There’s another fetish that enjoys quite the fandom

With whips and chains, it’s called BDSM.

People torture each other for fun

With nipple clamps and whacks on the buns,

That’s not what this is, it’s not by design.

It’s a plan I came up with while short on time.

You see, mommy and I were planning on fucking.

I’d just whipped out my dick for some sucking,

And was hovering over mommy with a spread brown eye

When with my other eye, oh yes I did spy

A familiar car pull into the driveway

Which shouldn’t have happened at this time of day.

Then your daddy burst through the door

Which is why daddy’s now on the floor.

We tried to tell daddy that he should calm down,

Instead daddy decided that he would shout.

He turned down our offer of menages a trois,

Which is why in the end he got hit with a vase.

It rhymes if you pronounce vase in a manner pretentious.

Close enough, kid, shut up, you don’t seem to get this.

While your daddy lie in a pool of his blood,

Your mommy screamed “look what you’ve done!”

She wanted to get help, but I can’t go to prison

So in the moment I made a decision

Which is why mommy’s tied up and I’m holding this gun,

It’s out of necessity, it isn’t for fun,

Though for some reason I still have a boner,

Don’t worry, kid, this soon will be over.

The lesson from this rhyme, unless you’re a dupe,

It’s clear, it isn’t okay to poop,

But I have one more rhyme, kid, so don’t cry,

Another lesson, it’s called someday we all die.

Your Parents’ Divorce and Why It’s Your Fault

April 25, 2017

You know daddy’s leaving and that makes you sad

And mommy keeps drinking and you know that is bad.

And now you’re confused and you want to know why

Daddy says mean things that make mommy cry.

Let me explain something that’s sad but it’s true.

All of this started because of you.

They wanted a kid to love and to hold

And to watch as he grew up and got older.

Instead they got you, you’re clearly defective.

What’s that? You’re too young to know what I mean by defective?

It means you smell bad, you’re ugly and dumb.

You clearly weren’t the cream of your daddy’s cum.

They wanted a kid of whom they’d be proud,

Of whom they could brag of out loud.

Instead they got you, a kid who is lame

So everywhere they go, their heads hang in shame.

And so now your daddy is going away,

And though he’ll tell you he wishes to stay,

It’s a lie and I know that you know that it’s true.

You know that he wants to get rid of you.

Your mom will now raise you, it’s just you and her,

And the gentlemen callers who walk through the door.

They’re more important, she’s lonely and you know you don’t count,

But before you sit in the corner and pout,

It’s not all bad, day to day it might suck,

As mommy ignores you for the guys that she fucks.

She has to do something to break from the stress

Caused by being a single mom after you started this mess,

And you’ll never see daddy, he’s gone like the wind,

But you’re now a competition that they’re trying to win.

So when he does see you he’ll try to buy love.

He’ll give you anything, as long as it’s stuff.

As a kid you’ll have plenty to do.

You’ll have everything except for a dad who loves you.

And mommy, well, she’s just given up.

She won’t pay attention, so do what you want.

You’ll quickly be the most popular kid in school

As kids learn to use you to do whatever they want to do.

They’ll use your basement for drinking and making out

Because your mom doesn’t notice, she’s out and about.

And though none of them will actually care about you,

Why should they?  It’s not like your parents do.

You’ll always have someone to occupy time,

And to pin it on when you’re caught in a crime.

So forget about love, kid, just live it up,

And look for what you’re missing in material stuff,

Just remember that for you, when you’re looking for love,

It won’t come in the form of hugs, but in drugs.