Only “Bob” can Juge me
June 17, 2013 § Leave a comment
I have been the butt
of your low-hanging jokes,
for as far back as I can remember.
But I gotta admit that ain’t too far.
Between the k2, booze, and blunt force trauma
bout the only thing that sticks, anymore,
is the pillow
macaroni and cheese
when I’m stabbing my brother.
When beer is your coffee,
life takes on dimensions
mere muggles can’t begin to grok.
When the zombies attack,
you gotta throw bricks,
or raw chunks of crumpled concrete,
whatever you got on hand, really.
And when you live like me,
it’s better to forget
that your wife collected money
for your dead sons
while they were still alive,
and tried to bite your dick off
when you was too tired
I got seven friends a day
dying from prescription overdose.
I got a hundred thousand brothers
rotting right now in prison.
I stabbed a Bears fan in the spur of the moment,
and shot my own damn self bowling on a Tuesday night.
I got caught masturbating on a public boat ramp.
What I’m trying to say
is that if you been through what I been through
you’d get a beer while fleeing police too.
Cuz you’d know it’d be a while before your next one.
and if you ever let the booze wear off
and the memories catch up
you’ll catch a hangover that could kill that skunk ape,
that I saw that night
trying to rape
out behind my toolshed.
You can’t hear about me without smirking,
and your silent “there but for the grace of God go I”
I don’t blame you for feeling superior.
We’re each just as we was created.
But don’t act like you don’t envy me.
My name brings them to their knees,
killing from Glengarry to Schnechdachie,
St Paul to San Tropez.
I got 400 million hits on google,
and 108 thousand followers on twitter
watch me come up
I’ll be bigger than anonymous,
but I want you to know my name.
I am Florida Man.
I will get a blowjob from a hooker with my toddler in the car.
I will throw eggs at the courthouse.
I will sometimes be attacked by alligators.
I will often be found butt naked,
in the wrong person’s house or apartment,
or on the side of the road,
proposing to a dead pit bull,
or making love to it.
I love my little cock-shaped state
and you just can’t take your greedy little eyes off it.
born in the fountain of youth
washed in the blood of conquest
trained by mad raving pirates
stolen from the seminole
plundered by capitalist greed
shaped by drug cartels and the space race
this is a land of endless freedom
strapped down by dickhead cops
And if you’re too scared to push it to the edge
how can you feel superior when I fall?
You rely on God’s grace to keep you out of danger
because you can’t handle this heat.
Like a caged canary laughing at raging wild turkey
you hold your manhood
while I speak.
And I’ll leave you with the words
tattooed across my neck,
“Only God can juge this soul”
and YES, I know I spelled judge wrong
see above for the disposition of that thought.
I am FLORIDA MAN!
And I will chew your fucking face off!