Your Holy Crapness

Ever'thing, Hop hip, New

Glandular eruptions and a rope-a-dope stance,
I cooled down a whole lot of hot pants.
Hot pans and pots, better get you a trivet,
Trivial Pursuit, I’m hirsute, chicks dig it.

Got enough back hair to stuff a pillow,
But it’s soft like a Persian, I never rock Brillo.
Milo de Venus grew arms just to grab me.
Mona Lisa cried when she couldn’t have me.

Van Gogh cut his ear off just to get with some Freddy Flow,
Picasso was a colossal asshole but yo,
I know what it’s like to have a blue period
need a box of tampons, my sins are myriad.

Went on an Iliad with Homer Simpson,
The Sirens had donuts, I’m feeling weak son.
Lashed to the mast, we sailed home to Greece,
But it’s broke like the west side, ah honkey, please
Give it a rest, you’re chasing your tail,
these broken-ass rhymes are bound to fail.

“You’ve got mail!” You’re as backwards as AOL.
Your Lynrd got Skynrd, ooh ooh that smell.
Skunks got nothing on your pungent rhythm,
Every faux pas, you done did ‘em.
Kid ‘em if you can, but take this seriously,
You can’t fool me, no matter how deliriously
you throw words together, no method to your madness:

I hereby decree you “Your Holy Crapness.”

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Getting bigger than Myrtle the Turtle, yo

Ever'thing, Hop hip

Blank pages fear me, I blow their doors off.
Heavy artillery I’m all Norman Schwarzkopf
with pencil stubs, ink pens, and crayons.
Voodoo zombie Ouija board séance,

Back from the swamp with an alligator typewriter,
Packs more wallop than Walter Cronkite or
any other newscaster or Cindy Plaster Caster.
Remastered 10-inch, shouldn’t have sassed her

Fast or slow, I’m a 45 on 33.
78 rpm on the Victrola, G.
Say you want a revolution, I spin it
Got my hip waders on, I’m all up in it.

Begin it or end it, either way works
Like Caribou coffee, I’m all about the perks.
Some get irked at this fredlicious flow,
But I’m getting bigger than Myrtle the Turtle, yo.

Stand on the backs of those come before me,
can’t really say that many adore me.
Yet little by little, the word’s getting out,
from a whisper to a scream, then a shout.

LFMBO: Laughing my freaking Bible off: “I’m Christian and I know it.”

Ever'thing, New, Randomocracy

One night only! Live at Dr. B’s Home for Wayward Boys! (and saving y’all a trip to church on Sunday morning). It’s the Very Reverend Freddy Flow with his rendition of “I’m Christian and I know it” (to the tune of “I’m Sexy and I know it” by LMFAO:

When I walk on by, priests by looking like, damn he fly.
I preach to the book
Fisher of men with a big-ass hook, yeah.
This is how I roll, Satan get behind me, I’m in control
I clean this bod with sanctified soap
And like John Paul I’m a smokin’ hot pope, yeah

(Ahhhhhh) Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
I preach out

(ahhhhh) Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
I preach out

When I walk in the church, this is what I see
Everybody starts to blessing on me.
I’ve got passion of the Christ, and I ain’t afraid to teach it (teach it, teach it).
I’m Christian and I preach it.

When I’m at the mall, I’m preaching the ladies like Jordan shoots ball.
When I’m at the beach, I walk on the water, I’m off the leash.
This is how I roll, come on nuns, girl it’s time to go.
We headed to the chapel, but don’t get nervous
white shoes, white hat, gon’ preach some service.

(Ahhhhhh) Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
I preach out

(ahhhhh) Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
I preach out

When I walk in the church, this is what I see
Everybody starts to blessing on me.
I’ve got passion of the Christ, and I ain’t afraid to teach it (teach it, teach it).
I’m Christian and I preach it.

Check it out, check it out.
Amen amen amen amen amen yeah
Amen amen amen amen amen yeah
Amen amen amen amen amen yeah
Amen amen amen amen amen yeah

Can I get an Amen y’all?
Can I get an Amen y’all?

I’m Christian and I preach it.

(ahhhhh) Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
I preach out

Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
Girl look at that bible
I preach out

Speaking in tongues y’all!

I’m Christian and I preach it.

Pull the bandage off: A love song

Ever'thing, Floetry, New

Verse 1:

Doorbells jangle, Lovers tangle
So intense, but now all past tense
Bitter twist of fate,
Turned my trust to hate

Now you will know, what I knew
Now you’ll feel the Hell you put me through
Or maybe, you won’t care
Blank x-ray, nothing’s in there.

Absence at the heart of you,
Empty chest, I never knew
Signs were there, but I didn’t heed them
Tarot cards, I didn’t read them.

And let me be, the first to say it,
You don’t want to listen, but I’m not stayin’
Hear me out, gotta get this out of me
Closing time, don’t think to doubt me.

CHORUS:

Pull the bandage off, Rip out the stitches
Pull the bandage off, For poorer or richer
This stitch this time may save my life
May save my life,
Save my life

So pull the bandage off, Rip out the stitches
Pull the bandage off, For poorer or richer
Got to put our time behind me
I can see now, you don’t blind me.
Pull the bandage off,
Pull the bandage off.

Verse 2:

The trust I had in you was misplaced
The thrust of what you said was laced
With honey and strychnine, bitter taste
Honey and strychnine, what a waste.

Broken doorbell, door ajar
Ears burned at the noise from afar
With every thrust into her I heard it
The same sweet nonsense, something absurdist

Throes of passion, no one remembers
Let myself out, no one the wiser
Except maybe me, poked at the embers
Love in ashes, early December.

A day that will live in infamy
A day that my heart broke in half in me
Now the bandage is red and ready
To get ripped off my hands are steady, so

CHORUS:

Pull the bandage off, Rip out the stitches
Pull the bandage off, For poorer or richer
This stitch in time may save your life
May save your life,
Save your life

So pull the bandage off, Rip out the stitches
Pull the bandage off, For poorer or richer
Got to put your crime behind me
No one else, but me is all I need.
Pull the bandage off,
Pull the bandage off.

Verse 3:

Dead part of me, I’m half-hearted
Cold to the touch, see what you started
I mean, you ended
Now you see, what you’ve been to me?

But that’s passed, passion blasted
Save the hysterics, I’ve outlasted you
You’re just some disparate thing and
I’m not desperate, pawned the ring.

Then bought me something, Third and Vine,
Means to an end, yours and mine
Prove my mettle, drop forged steel,
Nothing to think, nothing to feel.

But a flicker in your eyes
Fainter now, yet I surmise
Some secret deeper, in the bone
Too late now, I’m coming home.

CHORUS:

Pull the bandage off, Rip out the stitches
Pull the bandage off, For poorer or richer
This stitch in time may save our lives
May save our lives,
Save our lives.

So pull the bandage off, Rip out the stitches
Pull the bandage off, For poorer or richer
Got to put this crime in front of me
Dark at dawn, but day is all I need.
Pull the bandage off,
Pull the bandage off.

(Spoken):

And I’ll put the bullet back in the barrel
And I’ll pull this knife out of us
And I’ll put the pills back in the bottle
And I’ll smooth the splash from the water
And I’ll soothe that gash in your chest
And I’ll hold you so close, so close

And I
will
always
love
you.

Me and Al Gore invented Internet porn

Ever'thing, Hop hip

Sight for sore eyes, optical illusion
Got four eyes but my third eye’s conclusion’s
definitive—I can see for miles and miles
Louder than a bomb but don’t check the dials.

Speakers to 11 but I go to infinity,
Spinal Tap guest star, Nigel was into me
till I stepped on Stonehenge, pissed the dwarf off,
they took back my cucumber, took my drawers off.

I was off-off Broadway so far I was on it,
Even monkeys with typewriters can write a sonnet.
Even a blind pig can find an acorn,
Me and Al Gore invented Internet porn.

Swore it off when my palms got hairy,
I was practically married to five-finger Mary.
Scary when I think of the youths I corrupted,
Al Gore’s got climate change, I’m coitus interrupted.

Ineluctable fate had dealt me a bum hand,
Made money on the backs of teenagers’ glands.
But the better angels of my conscience got to me,
flapped their wings and flew right through me.
Knew me better than I knew myself:
Now I’m pimping out ice cream to Keebler Elves.

Wealth of nations, I’m a national scandal.
Mowed the lawn in Speedo and sandals.
Can’t hold a candle to my wax or wick,
Wicked weed whacker, I got the biggest . . . crick

in my neck, can I get a massage here?
Or a bottle of codeine and a six pack of beer?
No pain, no gain, then I’m a millionaire,
Spayed 10 cats on a double dog dare
without anesthetic, got the scars to prove it.

Cat scratch fever, no balm can soothe it.
Ted Nugent’s agent wanted 10 percent,
I said Hell no, these rhymes are Heaven-sent.

Rather get bit by a fossilized trilobite

Ever'thing, Hop hip

Ferd or Fred, I’ll answer to both
but Derf don’t work, it feels like meat loaf
in my mouth, got cauliflower ear,
too much broccoli, not enough beer.

Made a career out of unclear references,
Bade farewell to verbal reticence.
Present tense passed by, I’m already future,
Invented new verbs to work your glutes, suit yourself,

If you’re not with this, sit down,
Finders keepers but I will never be found,
Losers weepers I’m a needle in a haystack,
heavy hitter like a fat man snack attack.

Whacked more weeds than Toro,
Cut more Zs than Zorro.
Tomorrow’s my yesterday, today is so last week,
Celebrate Chinese new year when Pekingese speak.

That’s my dogs, got a mob of chihuashuas,
Yo quiero Taco Bell, dog day mamas,
Got me a llama and 39 acres,
So much cookie I need a dozen bakers,

Maker’s Mark on the tip of my tongue,
The Gospel of Mark’s gonna get expunged.
Bungee jumped, screamed Oh my Lord!
Unfortunately, Mama had cut the cord.

Swim with swordfish, my rapier wit
acquitted me well till the great white shark bit.
Shit! Should’ve stayed in the shallows like Mama said,
Instead I was in deep, looking at being dead,

Right, said Fred, bled down to zero
(Brits say zed), my head was a hero sandwich
to a shark with an overbite,
Rather get bit by a fossilized trilobite.

The Sump Pump of Hop Hip

Ever'thing, Hop hip

Back to the flow, I’m never fronting,
Rock the mic like a sump pump, I’m really sumpthing.
Lumpenproletariat, go tell the bourgeoisie,
Even the one percent’s getting hip to me, G.

They’re skiing at Aspen on six inches of fresh coke
while I’m getting et by the skeeters in Okeefeenoke.
Ain’t no joke but they call me The Riddler,
I’m up on my lines like gay men on Bette Midler.

Fiddler on the make, got 4 on the floor,
Five-finger Mary, 6-6-6 on the door.
Whore of Babylon couldn’t get with this,
It’s a foregone conclusion, I babble on witless.

Sit less, stand more, I’m wired like a telco,
Strung out on Strunk and White, shave with Norelco.
“Omit needless words,” but I need ‘em all.
Prelapsarian even after the fall.

Y’all can’t google this quick as I bust it.
If I say “perspicacious” you’ll just have to trust it.
Rust belt-and-suspenders, I keep myself covered,
Sans-a-Belt leisure suit, I’m getting discovered.

I’m a terra nova and feeling del fuego,
Not Chevy No-va or sin los juevos.

Full can of Fix-a-Flat

Hop hip, New

I’m flat broke but I’m fixing to fix that,
Got me a monkey wrench and a full can of Fix-a-Flat.
Gonna do some damage, got a bad case of mange
I’m ready to share with y’all, feeling deranged.

Froth at the mouth but no frothy Santorum mix
Ix-nay butt play, squeal like a pig, bunch of hicks
tried to convince me the world is flat,
I said no, It’s a cube, dude, on the back of a giant rat.

I saw some sneaking through the alley with Sally,
Chicago mammals they big, I took me a tally.
Counted to 10 but could’ve been more,
Couldn’t get my socks off to count 10 more.

Sippy Cup Throwdown

Hop hip, New

Sippy cup throwdown, Baby MC temper tantrum
Cold lampin’ pampers, busted amps and ranted
Slanted East, slouching beast, Bethlehem P-A bound
Palm the rock like Dr. J, sound mound of rebound.

You can’t get around this rhyme or this reason
You must know that Freddy Flow’s always in season.
Teasin’ the Jheri curls of Michael Jackson wannabees
Easin’ like Sunday morning fornicating killer bees.

Hug it out, homies, manwich makes a meal
Open faced sammich and closed fist seals the deal
Keepin’ it real, got a new set of falsies
Added a Winona Ryder to all of my policies.

Clamshell container: A breakup song

Ever'thing, Floetry

Clamshell container, lawyer on retainer
Broken sink strainer, stop this rain
Or else,
(Just play the hand I’m dealt;
No deck with new cards, no new deal).

Blind man’s bluff, can’t you see?
Can’t remember the we that we
used to be.
(Look around you, see me;
Ghost in white.)

Quotidian repetition, bitter coffee grind,
Grounds for divorce, sane way to lose
my mind.
(What’s behind all this? Must be something I missed.
Too late to catch up now.)

Never paid attention, always in detention.
Perhaps on that one winter day
I was out.
That’s the day they learned all about it:

CHORUS:
What it means… why we bleed
Why we fight… what we need
To live…to live… to love… to be
To take… from life…the life… we need.

No need for drama, I’m okay.
Hysterical with nothing but dreams
blown away.
(Nightmares on the way;
never wake up now, never sleep).

Had an answer, but questions mount
Thought I had you, but now I know I
don’t count,
(In your new math.
Subtracted, divided, fraction reduced.)

Add up the damage, count the costs,
All you’ve gained is all
I have lost
(Tossed in the tempest,
Full fathom five, lost at sea.)

Have to do, can’t just be
You and the world made me push
Away me.
(No space for my head,
No way to see:)

CHORUS:
What it means… why we bleed
Why we fight… what we need
To live…to live… to love… to be
To take… from life…the life… we need.

Free TSA colonoscopy!

Hop hip, New

SUVs like Panzers in the airport parking lot,
Left my rights in the pre-flight post-op.
Virtual colonoscopy from a TSA agent,
Scanned like a tin can, no getting impatient,
When you get picked by the man with the magic wand,
Kill the jokes, get your humorless game on.