Blackhumouristpress's Blog

June 28, 2011

The American Nursery Ryhme

Filed under: humor,poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 3:55 am
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Humpty dumpty sat on Wall Street.  Humpty Dumpty had an unprecedented fall.
All senators and congressmen tried to bail out Humpty again.  Cause when it’s raining, it’s pouring and stocks look flat in the morning.
Yankee Doodle came to town  riding in a Humvee
Winning the hearts and minds and forcing them to democracy.
Yankee doodle keep it up, like fishing in a phone booth
Spend money you do not have, send the deficit through the roof.
Hey diddle diddle, syringe just a little while grandma cooks in a spoon.  Three bags full; one for the master, one for the dame and one for the banker who drives down the lane.  Mix it up and make it nice,  A penny for a little rock, a penny for a needle.  That’s the way the money goes.  Pop! Goes the Weasel.  
 This was the woman all forlorn that milked the system, that tossed the kids into the street to sell drugs and sell their bodies, to make money to buy the drugs and slay in the house that crack built.
 Hush little baby don’t say a word, daddy’s past out on Thunderbird.  If that Thunderbird sings, momma’s gone pawn a diamond ring.  If the ring ain’t nothing but brass, somebody will hafta sell some ass.
Arnold parnold pudding pie, knocked up the house maid and told a lie.
 Liar liar, pants on fire catch Eliot and Tiger by the toe, if they cry let them go…  In fact maybe just give him their own show.
A diller , a dollar, you were going to be a scholar, Why do you sleep so late?
You used to get up to go to work and now you’re on Section 8.
Jack sprat is getting fat and his wife is hardly lean.  His arteries filling up and national health care is nothing but a dream.
Coast to coast, LA to Chicago who cares about geography?  Freedom to find and choose for yourself your form of pornography.
If all the world were paper and all the sea were ink, if all the trees were bread and cheese, what should we have to drink?

June 21, 2011

Trip to Walmart

Filed under: humor,poem,Uncategorized,walmart — blackhumouristpress @ 4:30 am
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            Larry the greeter from an era gone by when men held open doors and always wore ties.  Smiles to the all the patrons of the WalMart wondering just what hath god wrought?

I want to live in America.  Everything is good in America.  I saw it late on satellite.  What I see has got to be right.

Single mother- three children of different fathers.  Half brothers and sisters with steps and others.

I want a guest spot on Jerry Springer, late nights at Taco Bell.  I want to give the president the finger.  I want to be fat as hell.

Smart pharmacist in surgical blue. Old woman  knows not what to do. Buying a plethora of drugs and Maalox too.  Pharmacist yells so that she can understand.

“Your Medicare only covers a fraction in this plan.” 

Big blonds and beer.  Big tits and atmosphere.  Chase queers in big trucks.  A grande latte at Starbucks.

You who talk so loudly on a cellular phone, spinning rims from a pay day loan.  Looking for sharp sunglasses, left the kids at home.  Long white t shirt hides a stomach which has grown.

I wanna be a member of a health club.  Tongue piercing, lap dancing and romancing at cool bars.

Hefty man with a brass knuckle tattoo, Confederate flag shirt and a missing tooth.  Buying a windmill for the grass at the trailer park.  Plumber’s crack in faded jeans.  Abandoned cars, stray dogs and ripped up screens.

The motorized scooters and the oxygen tanks.  Lotto tickets and Marlboro Lights.  Have a coupon for the chips on sale.  Partially hydrogenated heart will fail.  Good health warnings like wind in sails.  Muslim women shopping behind veils.

Mulatto children and blond women.  Gang bangers in Elmo shirts.  Doddering elderly and the grossly obese.  Fertilizer, CDs and Cheddar Cheese.

It is all here in the biosphere, on a trip to Americana.

June 14, 2011

Going to see The-rapist or X-Box Will Kill Your Marriage

Filed under: humor — blackhumouristpress @ 4:17 pm
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Lacey came out of her condominium with her toddler daughter in tow when she noticed her common law husband was asleep on the hood of her car.  Lacey swung the Hefty bag full of shit diapers from their daughter’s special poop container that they received at a baby shower which Lacey loved so that the dirty diapers would not stink up the kitchen garbage.  Instead it stunk up the child’s bedroom.  Lacey swung the garbage bag like a battle axe upon Jeff’s relaxed abdomen.  Jeff immediately sat up and looked bleary eyed at Lacey who looked pretty and smelled even better albeit furious.

            “You and I are going to go to a marriage counselor or you can get your things and move out.  It’s become hockey every night and drinking until dawn while I’m a single mother…  This is fricking poppycock, Jeff.”

            Jeff went into the apartment and slept for an hour before getting on with his day.  By noon time, Jeff had sent a simple text to Lacey.  He had decided to send the white flag up the flag poll.


            Ten seconds later, Jeff received an angry text from Lacey.


            Ten seconds later, Jeff sent another text.



            Jeff and Lacey showed up at the office of a thin woman named Marcy who had two cats that walked around the cushions of the couch and rubbed up against Jeff and Lacey.  Jeff hated cats and was suspicious of any man who would choose a cat over a dog.  Jeff looked around the room that had copies of French Impressionist paintings and some Asian art next to a smiling Buddha with a Bonsai plant and a tiny waterfall.  Marcy had pictures of her bald husband with a beard and moustache that was chubby and shorter than her with their two fat children that had their father’s toothy smile and mother’s close set eyes.  The space between Marcy’s eyes were so close, it actually looked like she was cross eyed sort of like Shaquille O’Neal.  Jeff thought the whole idea of therapy was a scam but did not want to fight Lacey who had been coached by her friends and Dr. Laura Berman that drawing out hidden, latent, simmering resentment, was the only hope to keep from an eventual break up.

            “Jeff, I think what I am hearing from Lacey is that you have trouble connecting and are caught up with things that do not include your fiancé.  Playing ice hockey, playing X-Box, playing softball, playing golf, putting together model airplanes in the basement are all things that are fine as an individual but what can you do as a couple that can help you connect?  What things do you think that you and Lacey can do together that would help you to be a strong couple again?”

            Jeff took a sabbatical from his hobbies and took up Salsa dancing, wine tasting, a pottery class and started seeing plays once a month.  On weekends, they would watch a movie together and bang around tennis balls.  They went for walks with the dogs and their daughter went to zoos and museums.  Jeff was father and partner of the year.  He was a role model of compliancy.  Lacey’s female friends thought that Jeff had become a renaissance man.  Their husbands thought he had been an emasculated wimp who let his testicles dangle from Lacey’s ears like chandelier earrings.

            Jeff got the call one evening that his old hockey team needed him to come out and fill in for their new goalie who had taken over for Jeff while he went through his reformation.  Jeff asked Lacey if it would be permissible to play a men’s league hockey game at 10:30pm on a Tuesday night.  Lacey was looking through an Ikea catalog and watching two gay Australian men on Oprah’s OWN network, redecorate a house in South Carolina.  Lacey had her back against the headboard and was nearly ready for bed.  Jeff had hoped Lacey would have just gone to sleep so that he could just sneak out, but Lacey had stayed up later than usual.  Jeff felt like a little boy again.  It felt as though he was asking his mother if he could spend the night at a friend’s house.  Jeff hoped to hell that Lacey would not oppose the idea since he had committed to playing the game in advance.

            “Jeffery, I am not against you playing ice hockey.  I think you need an outlet.  I just worry where I fit in when you’re playing five nights a week and then you are shot the next day and need to come home from work and sleep because you have another late night game the next night.  I need you and so does your daughter…  That’s all I’m saying, baby.  You need to keep balance.  Go ahead.  Have a good time.  If you win or lose, remember that goalies don’t win or lose games for a team.  They just try to help their teams.”

            Jeff kissed his wife carefully who had just slathered vitamin E all over her face and had her hair up in a scarf.  Jeff gathered up his gear and headed to the rink.  Jeff had a rough first period.  He allowed in the first three of four shots and then he became impossible to get past.  The team won and decided to go for the proverbial one drink.  Jeff had four.  Jeff had four drinks and fish tacos with sour cream.  At about two in the morning, Jeff took off for home.  Jeff began to sweat and it felt as though gerbils were running through his intestines.  It became urgent that Jeff find a bathroom before it became impossible to hold it in the diarrhea that was trying to get out the way the French once stormed the Bastille; with vigor and anger.

            Jeff got the key to the gas station bathroom that stunk of urine.  Jeff hovered slightly above the seat so as to not allow any strange microbes from entering through his asshole.  The angle at which he hovered allowed for projectile shit to hit the handle and wall behind him instead of the water below him.  Worried that Lacey was in bed, sleeplessly waiting for him, Jeff decided to text Lacey on the status of the situation.


            Before Jeff could hit the send button, the phone slipped out of his hands and into the abyss of brown water in the commode below him.  Jeff had to fish through his own excrement to retrieve his phone.  It was Jeff’s hope that the water did not reach the inner components.  The phone died a tragic death. Jeff swore and was tempted to throw the phone at the wall.  Instead he wiped it down and washed his own shit off of his hands before he headed out to his car.  Before getting to the car, the sinking feeling came over Jeff that he may have left the keys in the ignition and then locked the door.  Jeff could see the keys dangling from the ignition and the doors were locked tight.  The night became early morning and the light of day did not make things any easier.  Jeff came to on the hood of Lacey’s car.  Lacey did not have any dirty diapers to hit him with.  Instead Jeff got a face full of organic whole milk from the sippy cup belonging to his daughter.  Jeff was startled awake.  He leaned on his elbows on the hood of the car and whipped the milk from his eyes.  Jeff tried to plead his case but Lacey wasn’t interested in hearing what he had to say.  Jeff became angry after everything he had been through and began to yell at Lacey.

            “You know what?  I played hockey and then had a few drinks and while I was on my way home, I was abducted by tall beautiful red haired aliens who love to play X-Box, give oral sex and play fantasy sports.  They took turns on me and then dumped me on the hood of your car.  I don’t have a good explanation for why my cell phone smells like shit and that I have crap under my fingernails…  So if you want to tell Marcy that I have fallen off the wagon, so fucking be it.  I don’t give a shit right now.”

            Jeff received no text messages during the day and after work, he was a bit apprehensive to come home.  Upon coming home, Jeff was greeted with a beer and a deep dish pizza.  The baby was put to bed early and Lacey stayed up watching the Detroit Red Wings play the San Jose Sharks.  Jeff thought that he was being lured into something by Lacey the way male preying mantises lose their heads.  Jeff finally asked Lacey why everything seemed upside down.  Lacey kissed Jeff’s neck and looked into his eyes while twisting his hair around her index finger.

            “I was so turned on by the way you spoke to me this morning. It was so forceful and full of emotion.  All I could think about was getting you home tonight…  Finish your pizza.  Momma’s got some dessert for you.  In the other room.”

            And they lived happily ever after…  The end.

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