Baby, I'm Your Slave
If I learned anything from my college days working at Stallyinz Male Escorts and Pool Cleaners it's this: being the hub of an STD distribution ring might sound funny, but it's really bad for business.

The second thing I learned? You can't please everybody. No matter what you do, what videos you bring along, what battery-operated devices you employ, for some people, the pool is just never going to be clean enough.

Some people have a pathological need to be dissatisfied, especially if they're paying for a service. Maybe it's an undercurrent of guilt or shame because they know they should be able to clean their own goddamn pool, or better yet, go to some bar, buy a frat boy a light beer and take him back home for a good, thorough, cost-free pool-cleaning. I can't really say.

What I can say from operating this TOTALLY FREE TO YOU blog is that STILL, there's no way to please everyone at once. Posts are too long, they're boring, they're about retarded subject matter, too much vagina, not enough vagina... Nothing I do is ever quite perfect. Which is weird for me because everything I attempt away from this blog is.

So it's taken me four pargraphs to say: I hear you, my readers. I am going to keep this post short.

But because I have a pathologically antisocial need to be unaccomodating, I'm going to include a poem. A little poesy up the nose-y. Which is just mean because everyone says they want MS Paint pictures.

Anyway, here 'tis. I'm conflicted about whether or not I want you to like it.

An Poem.

by Pops

A young Muslim toting a knapsack
tarried his plan on the tarmac
it took so long to find
two lines that would rhyme
with bunghole, vagina and ballsack


The end. It's a little self-aware to be acutal poetry, but it has some nice vulgar imagery and a bit of subversive social commentary, so I'm going to go ahead and call it a masterpiece.

Don't judge me too harshly. I have a lot on my plate. Not only am I obligated (by my evil hostage-taking brain) to post six times a week, as far as I know, I'm the only one besides Justin Timberlake who is actively working to bring the sexy back.

And come on, you've seen Justin. Little bird shoulders like his? Guess who's doing all the heavy lifting in that department. Cut me some slack.

Slack! That would have rhymed too. Live and learn.

Happy weekending.



This post on the Narcissus Scale: 10.0


Pops
- posted by Pops @ 9:33 AM