Crusty Rye Bread

Commitment, entitlement, embarrasment, it pays rent. Resident assistant. Program planning bitch. Noise patrolling snitch. Decorating kitsch. No free board, but free boredom. On call glum, no freedom. Volume too loud, low income. Don’t be proud, but it do look good on a resume. You can network as an RA. Forgot your key drunkenly. Rip the door open, don’t use me. Channel change. Use your own tv. Hide your bongs and hide your gin. The luck is on what house youre in. Program planning bitch. Noise patrolling snitch. Decorating kitsch. Guide the cops to your dorm room. Lured in by your foolish fumes. Glade spray, perfume, aerosol erases clues. Found your stems, found your seeds, can’t get arrested from carpet weed. Program planning bitch. Noise patrolling snitch. Decorating kitsch. Sign the sign-in sheet. You don’t stay and eat. Walk right by, avoid my eye. See me out in public, at least say hi. Don’t be fuckin’ shy. We’re all grown, I run your home on my Laissez faire throne. Respect me and my chanukah ho poem.

I’M DAT HANUKAH HO. Wish me merry Christmas, I say NO, I spin my dreidel down yo throat! I melt some gelt up in yo eyes so you can’t see yo christmas buys. How many years you know me? Clearly you aint wise. You know I be a jew, bitch and you still say murry christmas. I PUT LATKES IN YO SHOE, BITCH. Rick Perry in da office? Chanukah Ho DA JEW GODDESS. STRONG.

Chanukah ho’s back wiff a brand new beat, it’s da fifth night of eight, shicksa skanks in da street. Light up my menorah, can’t feel no heat cuz Christmas colds creepin’. Sad defeat. Three more nights, I got more merry christmases than happy festival of lights. Three more nights, I see red and green shite. Three more nights, chosen people gang fights. Got a pic wiff santa, sharted on his lap. Asked me what I want I said this Chanuka rap. Gelt gelt $$ gelt $$. All I want for Christmas is JEW.

—— ———. Dont got a Chodey sweller. Not a chubby dweller but a perfect vag queller. Hotter than florida weather. No ones fella. Prank call you, keep a straight face. Hank hill, jews, he got the classiest tastes. Wranglers and Spanish jazz. Faded shirt schnazz. Beefeater gin, lack of flirtings a sin. Insomniac grin. Embarassment. No win, faced his rejection. Best compliment giver, I’m the getter. Just gotta say its whatever. False hope, best to cope. Can’t rely on a toke. He aint my bloke. Always a joke except for secret keeping, kismet meeting. Online creeping, ET porn screening. Texted incessantly, now won’t even call me. False hope folly. Blurry definitions, I shouldn’t like dodgy. Need mental brawn. Boredom foregone. Time to move on, no more ———— from now on.

White new balance sneakers, jorts wit hammer loops. High ass socks, you’re in the “that guy” group. Eighth grade ended years ago, your look is wrong from head to toe, at least dem shoes aint velcrooooo. Nose breather, wannabe high achiever. Leave it to Beaver is more punk. Untuck your shirt, cover dat trunk. Put your hand down “THAT GUY,” you needa get a little crunk. Your questions are irrelevant. Give yourself up for lent.

Do rag, head wrap, faux furr coat. Have your id ready. What’s in that kmart tote? Cigarette behind your ear, holey jeans, holy fear. Automated wheel chairrr. Bealls outlet bag, tits sag. Denim on denim swag. HAVE YOUR ID READY NEXT TIME. Lag. Ignore that rattling sound. Drag your pillow pet on the ground. Cover your mouth when you cough, little boy. The unemployed. Leave the station, onward bound. Poor people travel on the ground.

I’ll shit in your toy box. Can’t afford Clorox. Lost socks. Bagels and lox. Chicken pox. Collection of rocks. Snowflake obsidian. Nickelodeon weekend. Play pretend. Won’t be the mother or the father, only the daughter. It’s just a game of house, why should I bother? Trampoline catheter. Fluxe capacitor. Wal Mart exposer. Too much exposure. JCC camp corruption. Spice Girls eruption. Classroom disruption. Detention. Dissension.
Alright. I should probably stop now.

Creepin’ online in the middle of the night. He jumps out of the screen and rapes your sleeping wife. Before you can stop him, he’s at your daughter’s crib. Wipin’ his jizz on her “daddy loves me bib.” Memes aint a joke when memes come alive. And this meme aint a joke because this meme has sex drive. Old enough to count, old enough to mount. He’s the cutest pervert on my stumble upon account. But Pedobear aint on the screen no more. He’s flesh and blood, he molests and spreads his spore…@ least you got a better shot if you’re above the age of four.

Can’t fuck wit me literally. Figuratively we fuckin’. This mental aggravation and I aint even frontin’. Confrontation just won’t do when swagger’s an important rule. Take it from me. Heed my cue. False hope folly hurts me, not you. It’s a yes or no. No maybe sos. Refer to bitches as hos- I aint either of those. Make up your mind, dick. Time to pick. Don’t think with your dick, prick. My ass you can lick. You treat it like a game, well I’m forfitting. Regret your indecision when my clothes are form-fitting. Good luck to you in all your endeavours. Have fun finding a woman who’s better. Hold up though. Are you just scared? Don’t be afraid to admit it. It’s kinda cute- but just for a minute. Ample opportunities for you to really reject me. If it’s a niceness front, I don’t need your pity. Pity. Pity. It’s a pity. False hope is shitty. You’re a grown ass man and I know that you’re witty. Redirect the conversation- do you fuckin’ pick me? Clearly I’m wrong. Gotta get strong. If I have to even ask then that’s a problem. But why is it every time it comes down to this? Shit or get off the pot. They don’t. The problems persist. “I don’t like relationships.” Yeah women are crazy. Or is it just me? I learn from my mistakes, this shouldn’t happen constantly. Maybe it’s an age thing. Maybe it’s what I’m doing. Maybe it’s bad luck. Maybe I’m ruined. Or maybe I have shitty tastes and need to improve ‘em. Fuck the beef though. I’ll remaim cool, yo. As long as you don’t start dating a bitch ass ho. I can picture it. Facebook- “in a relationship.” If that do happen, we gotta problem. A girlfriend aint your thing? I didn’t ask for a ring. It was really just me. Online sting.Be straight up. Nut the fuck up. In the long run, the truth is best and that’s what’ up.