I drive a hybrid car
with “Bernie” sticker
And I’m married to a woman:
Does it make me a
Lesbian?
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Վերակենդանացում
Կախված Ստյոպը
Սառել էր.
Ctrl, Alt, Del.
Del.
Is she?
My lesbian neighbor said,
That lots of high rank army guys
Are gay,
With no family,
Dedicated to their service.
It made me wonder:
“Is god really gay?”
Going low
Two years ago we were discussing “low art”
With my instructor Kathleen.
I finally got the answer:
It’s the “harder art”
Just like a
Concrete poop.
My dick (or things that really matter)
My dick is the shortest in the town! I guess.
It’s like a perfect mushroom, that you want to eat right from the ground.
Sweet-privileged-pinkish-colored, with symmetric blood vessel design.
I used to think about penis enlargement a lot: pumping more blood into it, stretching it, training with weights, but no pills.
It doesn’t feel like a foot in the mouth, but you can fake gagging.
Maybe you’ll go like : “Dude, that’s Too Much Information! ”
But, hey, it’s all that matters!
Dick is the most hated and ,at the same time, loved thing in the world. People still start wars because of it. But I haven’t met a single person who hated my dick.
It’s true, that it’s not long enough to be self-sufficient and self-suckable for complete happiness, and , maybe, it’s gods’ punishment, to always be in the search for some help.
It’s not that interesting, if I’ll write about my left hand instead of my dick, but my left hand does a lot more during masturbation, than my dick itself. And, as an added bonus, it feels like someone else is masturbating my dick, because I’m right-handed.
I tried to count how many times I’ll come in a row, if I’ll give 5 minutes of rest after each orgasm and in the fifth round, I barely squeezed a drop of cum.
I guess my dick is not in favor of anal sex. It doesn’t feel comfortable inside the rectum. It only went in twice, but just a little bit, and by accident. But it loves being slided between the butt cheeks, super wet by my saliva, and then, surprisingly entering the right hole, and giving the partner the face of the illuminated one.
As an experiment, I’ll leave my dick untouched for a week, till the point when it’s ready to explode, and then I’ll give it to the hands of my Chinese massage therapist for happy ending, and she’ll go like “Ooooooo , that’s too much, too much!!!”(OK, this didn’t happen) (often).
Sometimes my dick likes to go to deep sleep, hug the foreskin (remember, I’m not circumcised!), and hide somewhere there.
I remember the first day entering army, when the army doctors put all of us, 50 people, in a line, and ordered to show our dicks for check-up. There were some “rebels”, who, at first, refused to do it. I was the first one to show my tiny but shiny dick. I also remember the fat guy’s dick: because of the fat, his dick was hiding, even though he shook it to make bigger (he was shy). But enough about his dick, let’s concentrate on mine!
And don’t unfairly judge me. I’m not the first and only one to write about my dick. Ask all the poets and prophets!
I guess, you’ll not like this poem (yes, I consider it as a poem) about my dick in Facebook, but how did you read it all the way down here?
My dick is all that matters!
Fuckem
The dog walked down the street:
Fuckem.
A word elaborator puts some lines with space glitter:
Fuckem.
Mrs Mikhaelovich is musturbating on the park bench, imagining naked Jesus:
Fuckem.
A wife told her husband’s brother that she never comes. They were high. The husband learned the lesson:
Fuckem.
Roaches on his face, trying to find his mouth entrance.
And don’t kill flies, they eat shit:
Fuckem.
He “forgot” to tip his Uber driver. Why does the driver have anti-Semitic thoughts?
Fuckem.
Where does it lead to? Are we lost? And who was the coffee maker pretending to be the Siddhartha?
Fuckem.
Elizabeth is performing her heart out in the porn scene, and what do you give her? Two tiddlywinks of cum? What a dick! A true disgrace!
Fuckem.
Beem, beem,
Beem-beem,
Beem, beem,
Ddkhk!
Fuckem.
Don’t get bore…
In-to my wives
My first,
Transparent-pink one,
Hello?
I was not a fan of violets
At school:
Why did everyone think so?
I loved the
Hairy one,
With huge nose,
Darker skin:
She has none of it, anymore.
The revolutionist,
With bloody songs,
Why you
Grew up
Stupid?
I carved
Your name
On my skin,
Literally.
Just for a
Kiss?
My relatively close
Teacher
I knew you love girls,
Cause you loved me,
When I was
Eleven.
I keep
Forgetting your name:
What did make me
Slide my hands
On your
Posterior?
(Maybe
The same reason
Your husband is
Rolling his balls
On your
Face).
You were my
Croissant,
Huge tits,
No experience.
And then you.
Who stole my brain,
And my notebook.
(I’m still waiting for it).
We are look-alike members
Of Woody Allen’s
Freudian Club.
And then three of you
Came to me
Almost the same time.
My ex’s ex girlfriend,
Ex’s ex girlfriend’s sister,
And the one
Who was double of me:
Double age
Double weight
Double shortage.
Then again you
Another you,
Between both of you.
I found myself
In some sum of you.
And I don’t write
About you
Anymore:
It’s amoral,
Maybe.
Ավանդույթի ավանդություն
Բոլորս հիվանդ էինք.
Առաջինս ջրառատ էր,
Երկրորդս հոնքերն էր փաթթել,
Գյուղից մի երկար վարդ քոքահան արել,
Ու ցեխոտ արմատներն էր քսում մռթին։
Երրորդս էլ խնդում էր։
Առաջինս ես չէիր,
Երկրորդս հակասեռական էր,
Երրորդս խնդում է։
Առաջինս անցումն ես,
Երկրորդս՝ դադարը՝
Սոսնձախեղդ թունամոլի,
Երրորդս կխնդա։
Ո՞վ կերգի ռոբոտների,
Թվայնացված հին նկարների,
Աղբահեռացման խողովակների,
Համընդհանուր հակահեղափոխության
Մասին։
Մեզնից ո՞վ էր հիվանդ։
Չհասկացա։
Գոնե ես հասկանային։
Before you see the light / մինչ լույսը տեսնելդ
Son
Soon, very soon, you’ll see the light.
It’ll stay between your ears forever.
I’ve only one thing to teach you:
Listen to no one, but your father.
Listen to no one.
Your mom is the best.
The rest you’ll figure out yourself.
Listen to no one.
Տղես
Շուտով, շատ շուտով, դու կտեսնես լույսը։
Այն հավերժ կմնա ականջներիդ արաքում։
Միայն մի բան ունեմ քեզ սովորեցնելու։
Ոչ մեկի չլսես, հորիցդ բացի։
Ոչ մեկի չլսես։
Մայրդ ամենալավն է։
Մնացածը ինքդ կպարզես։
Ոչ մեկի չլսես։
Չմիջակ պոետի ձված ցեխ
Ակնոցդ
Աչքերդ չվառելու համար է,
Երբ արևածագ է իջնում
Շրթունքիդ։
Կրճիկ-աղջիկ,
Որ պլստալեն դուրս է պրծնում,
Ով ոչ պինդ է, ոչ՝
Փափուկ։
Քեզ՝ Օտարի՛դ,
Ով միշտ գնում է,
Եւ գնում է ամենաթանկը
Պոմիդորներից,
Գերբանական
Բարև։
Չքնած պոետի
Երազ, որ
Մենք խլինք,
Դու՝
Խլիր։
Ճիշտ ա։
