Friday, May 09, 2008

Four Bitchy Poems About The Boobie Barn

Hang the DJ
I suppose I should start tipping the DJ better
so he won't play Air Supply songs when it's my turn to dance.
Passive-aggressive little punk!




She Does Not Bang
There is a girl at work named Paris
who dances like she's having a seizure.
Kind of jerking her limbs around and flailing about.
Really, she makes Elaine on Seinfeld look like a ballerina.
So I refer to her as The Epileptic
since I'm mean like that,
and also because she called me flat-chested.
Yeah Paris, your boobs are bigger
but bitch,
you cannot dance!



Mouth Breather
My boss is a mouth breather
his lips are never closed
even when he's not blathering.
He looks like P. Diddy
only goofier, if you can believe it.
Someday I'd like to kick him in the guts.



Wow, An Original Question
Customers, oh customers!
What the fuck is your deal?
Why are you constantly asking
whether or not my tits are real?

6 comments:

WendyB said...

That last one needs the line: "How much do you charge to cop a feel?"

Prunella Jones said...

Wendy- they always want to cop a feel. When I say no they cry and squeal.

xl said...

poems and boobies
one Miss Prunella de Ville
excels every time

Mister Underhill said...

You should have warned me about paris . I let her give me a lapdance and now I have space herpes.

Krissyface said...

Pru, did you ever read "Candy Girl" by Diablo Cody? I think you would rather enjoy it. And SHE went on to win an oscar for her writing. So.....

Prunella Jones said...

XL- I curtsy to thee.

Mister U- space herpes? Dangit, just when I had decided to sleep with you. Oh well, I guess I change my mind.

Krissyface- I just saw that movie Juno. Very cute! I'll look for the book.