Thursday, January 29, 2009

Johnny Rumble:
Abecedarian poetry about Spicy McHaggis

Probably the biggest stinking pile of poo I've ever had the pleasure of writing, but it's an assignment, and I completed it.

A story that I’ll weave for you
Bout a man constantly on the prowl, looking for
Chicks over 400 pounds. He is always
Drinking beer, so his vision is always blurred. This is an
Eccentric story you may have already heard.
For Spicy McHaggis is a
Good fella at
Heart
It’s
Just that he sometimes pisses his filthy
Kilt.
Love him or leave him, it
Matters not. The unfortunate thing is, he
Never knows who drank all the rest of his beer
Oh Spicy McHaggis, what were you thinking? You got that girl
Pregnant, just because she played with your unit. What a
Quandary you bring to the boys, telling them you’re a dad. Was her name
Rita or Rice, maybe it was Condie or Carrie. Either way she was yelling your

name,
Spicy! Spicy! Oh Spicy! Yes Spicy! Right there!
To tell the truth, she did ask for a glove, but Spicy didn’t hear when he lifted his
Urine soaked skirt and gave her a quick shove. Many nights he spent in this
Very pool-hall, playing cards, throwing dice, and playing for the girls and
Won them all. In some little black books, Spicy’s name has a little black
X placed to the right. Perhaps not all the girls
Yell Spicy! when he walks in the door. But I’ll tell you one thing, I caught my
Z’s the night Spicy laid me on the floor.

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