Back in the 90's, I had a hobby of following my friends around at clubs and making them write bad poetry for me. The word poetry was used very loosely. Well, completely incorrectly would be a better term since it was also used for articles, completely fabricated self-help columns and random complete and utter nonsense.
These are the results of those (often drunken) ramblings.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010


By Patty

I slowly open m bedroom door. open
Slowly, quietly so I won’t wake
them up. I creep into my bed and cover
Myself not exposing any vulnerable
Parts for potential biting, sucking…
Who knows?
I close my eyes but can’t sleep, the
Rustling in the closet and the
Groaning under my bed makes my mind go
Wild. What is going on out there?
Are there other children held hostage
Taken from their homes, am I the next
Are people getting tortured, maimed
Killed…or are they having sex
Against their will? Being put into
Positions they never thought they
Could endure?
Maybe I’ll open the closet door
Tonite. Monsters don’t sound bad
After all.

It seems if there is one running theme throughout all these so called poems, is the weird way all the lines are cut with no regard to sentences. I'm pretty sure we were just going by whatever looked the closest to a square when we were typing it and nothing to do with how it should be read or what was grammatically correct.

The drawings were done by me and it looks like the doodles I would draw in class. I kinda like it. I think I might try to color it like I did with the sheep one and Begly.

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