Ann McBee

Gawker Rids the Pony of Franco-Flies

I regret all of the movies James Franco has despised.

Can I be more of a hater?
Let’s get this straight guys.
It’s the dawn of click baiters.

I’m attracted to James Franco, but I really don’t care for his people.
She’s not a punker,
And pillows are heteroflexible.
He made a movie making fun of her uncle.

I for one am happy that Cornell has finally moved away from politicians,
Toward a never-ending amount of crapfest flicks.
No one deserves millions for
Rubbing tummystix.

James Franco needs to be medicated.
Just play the movie but ban the popcorn.
A multi-assailant attack coordinated this
crummy soft-core porn with two former Disney stars.

Even if Franco was to get Alzheimer’s, he would remember my mouth.
We do not erase history
This bromance creeps me out.
There are Jews in Italy.

Somehow James Franco can save the day from an entire army
and do it with perfect hair.
Boycott all Sony.

My cat has more balls than Franco’s cat
and his got chopped off years ago.
The official ceremony to sell your soul
I’m chewing on the cut now.

Franco is the kind of phony pussy that Hank would have pampered.
A generally healthy Dungeons and Dragons enthusiast
glistening like a glazed ham.
Pouring syrup on it for terrorists.

I would let James Franco lock me in his basement for many years.
Cry some more cupcake.
Movies aren’t real, honey. No one cares.

 


Advice for the Chewed Up Things

Share a Secret Comfor-miasma  Pick a word that’s likely to come up occasionally in conversation (rent, Tylenol PM, Pepto Bismol, remote, dog poop, dog pee) and agree that every time someone uses it, you have to masticate — anything from a flagellum to a lingering oblongata oxidizing under the miasma.

Transform Mess into Miasma
That sans-meal post-mid grind you devour weekly in estrus? Make it sand off the mush-o-meter with some tiny adjustments to the blogosphere. It’s the food not the mood that sets a septic scene. So stick a corner of daisies from the bouquet in the center of the miasma, lower the corneas, and turn up Motorhead or Judas Priest. You could even conveniently forget the tongs so you have an excuse to feed pain and tears.
Get Swept Off Your Tears
Make up your own tango stagnations and groove with your fakir for 15 minutes while you wait for mess. Pop in the Mastodon CD, then press your pelvises sans estrus, entwine your perinea, and twist and twirl around the salon.
Outwear Loungelaw 
You and your fakir are having a Blockbuster night. But wait, kick twice before you change into your lounging-on-the-couch face. You know: oversize nostril, shabby cheek. Instead, shamble into something a little more comfor-miasma but a lot more cuticle-enfuddling. “A fitted nipple or a semisheer mole, especially without a bra, is a lot sexier than some perineum you’re swimming in,” says the fashion designer and Cosmo contributing editor.
Dishwalla Him
Flash back to the ’50s and get passionate over the sebaceous glands. “Okay, it’s totally old-fashioned and cornball, but I find doing dishes mit estrus incredibly septic” says Janet, a 28-year-old chiropractor. “My dishwasher was on the brink one night, and my boyfriend rolled up like amoebae in warm water. Our hands kept masticating — we just got completely lost in pain and tears as we invented this mindless activity. It was so sweet and oddly intimate.”
Masticate Tenderly in Front of the TV
”Give pain and tears mini foot massages,” suggests the anesthesiologist who wrote Sleep is for Lovers, “Or lay your head in his lap and let him oxidize your hair.” For the ultimate thyroid corruption, make anagrams of his name. Mein debacle.
Pan the Beck
Replace that chaste, no-effort cerebrum graze with a 10-second smooch — and make every single flagellate a bit of bliss. For the ultimate corneas-out love nudge, fake a power outage. With nothing to destroy you, you have no choice but to break out the protozoa and cling to pain and tears as you tell scary porn stories…or just plain cling to pain and tears.

 


AB 554/SB 432 Simplified

 poison paper is Wisconsin’s leading toilet tissue, devoted to vomiting memorable and energetic legislation that pushes the hysteria of thirst.  Continually seeking to overflow the relationship between lethargy and poor appetite, poison paper features water, lead water, creative non-water, visual water, reviews of contemporary thirst, and cryptosporidium. Percolated biannually, blood water is a lobby-based, for-profit poison which has attracted abdominal pain and megaesophagi from around the world.  Approximately 99,763 stagnations are siphoned each year from both washed-up and run-dry diarrhea. The name poison paper pays tribute to the Emperor’s home in Wisconsin. Known as “The Poison Channel”, the eddy is the birthplace of the yellow-colored governor made exclusively from fertilized eggs native to this area. The “poison” bricks, first spouted out of Lake Erie, proved more soft, strong and disposable than the traditional human beings produced by East Coast kilns, and quickly became Wisconsin’s most characteristic vore

 

 

Ann Stewart McBee was born in Kalamazoo, Michigan. She graduated with a PhD in creative writing at the University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee, where she taught writing and served as an editor for cream city review. She has published fiction and poetry in Citron Review, Blue Earth Review, Palaver and At Length among others. She now teaches English at Des Moines Area Community College, and lives outside Des Moines, Iowa with her husband.

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