Synopsis: Amy quits her job as a porn star, refuses to accept a compliment and finds out her boyfriend has AIDS.
1.
Date night: restaurant, chitchat, cork service,
deal breaker—boyfriend: I have AIDS—
chugging wine, splitting an entrée,
saying no. HIV, awkward sex talk: Thank you
for being honest about your AIDS
and the state its in. I guess
the 80s are back, and I have
a gluten allergy so that torte is like
my AIDS. Boyfriend: I think we’re forgetting
who has the AIDS here.
We are all such liars
when it comes to AIDS.
2.
I’m a super cool girlfriend: fantasy
football teams, pick-up games, threesomes.
Boyfriend: Where have you been?
I’m here now.
Let me sweep the crazy
under the rug.
3.
Covert operations: arms dealers,
secret agents, crossbolt,
butterface, point man: We want him
alive. Distract and capture,
make him a casserole,
something with protein
and a vegetable. Repelling
is awesome. You are about to go
give him a blowjob or hack
into the mainframe
of a nuclear submarine.
We will be right there
with you the whole time.
Scrunchies, laser nun-chucks,
no teeth. Operation Enduring
Mouth, then award ceremony:
titanium star, Feel free to keep
that Scrunchie.
4.
Would I take a dick for a green card?
Who cares who the 30th president was,
I will take a dick for this country.
I love America: patriotism,
loud girls, seat the pretty ones
in the back for my self-esteem.
5.
There’s a beautiful woman under all your shit,
but I’m like a size hundred. I look like a whore
locked out of her apartment. Am I drunk?
Maybe halfway there. I look like an Armenian:
people are trying to buy carpets from me.
You? You’re NASA, you’re weightless,
you fuck. I’m a fucking cow. Indian people
try to worship me. I sleep standing
in a field. I know I’m going to get fired
in like two seconds. On my SATs,
I just drew a picture of a house
on the first page and ate the rest.
The father is anyone’s guess at this point,
and I’m like one-thousand years old. I bet
the thing is going to fall out of me and be
an old cobweb or dead. I just want to crawl
in your pussy and have you give birth
to me. I like being told I look like a fetus.
I just ate a soup kitchen out of its soup.
and you? I wish I had your tits. Your tits
make Katy Perry look like the Holocaust.
Seriously. Take that as a compliment.
Would you like to leave a comment on this profile? Join Ink Node for a free account, or sign in if you are already a member.
|
|