stevie mccabe's diabolic blog

May 30, 2012

My Jizzle

Filed under: 2012 stuff, anthropomorphism, beauty, Beliefs, bleak, Songs, Sorrow, Time — Stevie McCabe @ 1:06 pm

Look at my jizzle -
What a man without tackle can do with a speckle and a dazzle in his eye
a bleary-eyed suit with a cock-eyed view
September the eightth brings a straightened view

Seamlessly aimlessly riding out the storm
Killing the ceiling-drag rat as she crawls and lays her eggs
across and about walls, studs and nogs
visceral slayings of the vicious few

Achoo, sneezing like wizened thieves
firing on all cylinders, beating their hearts out
fighting for dear life, killing as she lays her eggs
mandibles clattering by the fence
MANDIBLES CLATTERING RIGHT BY THE FENCE

May 27, 2012

Exfoliation with a loofah

Filed under: 2012 stuff, animal, anthropomorphism, beauty, Beliefs, destiny, efficacy, People, Psychology, Songs, Time, Tragedy — Stevie McCabe @ 10:15 am

Exfoliation with a loofah
How hard can it be
Don’t like cricket, don’t much fancy Betchadupa
Scratching at the seams like a buck-eyed dream

From gay Paree she came
Loaded up fully with a 10-inch loofah
Booked out till xmas with her high-price dreams
Scrathing the surface and ripping the seams

Pushin too hard can leave a sever welt
Welterweights scrap over which is worse
Paying more taxes and a shrinking wallet
Or the cold death of the universe

Scraping skin like ajax on steel
Scouring, not harsh scratching that will leave you limp
A positive imprint, a possible match
Looky here, loofah breeder is quite a catch!

 

May 14, 2012

Neon Lamp Stingray

Filed under: 2012 stuff, Anger, anthropomorphism, class, destiny, evil, fashion, humanity, icky, Spirituality, Time, Tragedy — Stevie McCabe @ 5:50 pm

Neon Lamp Stingray
An electric eel  which you object to feel
Such a barrier ramp king ray
The lock of horns telling you you’re about to keel

like the biblical fish that swallowed jonah whole
a job lot with too many problems to assimilate
erked up on the seaside after three days of gall
a tricky feat for the movie to emulate

A neon ray stinglamp, electric eye , on and to be
or not to be, could be an iron deficiency
keen as mustard steely as the wheel
hardened criminals how do you feel

Isolated like a grounded boat-load of bait-lot
ground into pulp to make baitmeat for that lot
the leftover droppings can be pulped up for catmeat
i woundn’t feed it to my cat, but i’d feed it to my prince

m’lord find here the finest shrove
of giggly aunties and artichokes
a nip of brandy from the last century
i’ll stamp your hand now lest you need re-entry.

Moo moo milk cow

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stevie McCabe @ 9:18 am

Nothing better than a moo moo milk cow
To make you curtsey and Mau mau kowtow
Hot pepperoni from the broken-in hausfrau
One day she’s broken she’s a genuine hoosgau

Moo moo milk cow, do you have any cream
Did you send it all to London for the chai chai queen
She’s the biggest chump around, she’s an orb-wielding despot
She can bore you to death without any respite

Moonbeam Tannenbaum

Filed under: destiny, fashion, fear, Hope, humanity, Love, monsters, Moon, oversize, Sorrow, Tide, Tragedy — Stevie McCabe @ 9:17 am

Holy mother of Moses , lay you down to weep
By the Avon River , 3 feet deep
A pocketful of moonbeams to keep me inspired
A dash of greying moondust from the moons funeral pyre

A blessing in disguise, oh boy what a good disguise
Didn’t see it coming tho its right before my eyes
A devil in the details, a devil in disguise
That old dust devil moonbeam caught me right between the eyes

A Good Itch

Filed under: 2012 stuff, Ambivalence, Anger, animal, anthropomorphism, evil, fashion, fear — Stevie McCabe @ 9:17 am

A good itch today is hard to find
A good scratch where the sun don’t shine
Like a rhesus monkey on a 12 month high
Eating a banana split with Spanish fly

What a tale, what a tail what a tale of woe
Heel toe heel and Dosey Doe
Squeal like a monkey sting like a bee
Steal through the night like a fox on heat

Into the darkest nite since the ice age
It takes a village to build a palisade
Hammer and sickle at it hammer and tongs
Totally hammered like cheech and chong

May 6, 2012

Making’ money

Filed under: money, oversize — Stevie McCabe @ 3:52 pm

I’m makin money every day
Makin more money than MCA
Like MC Hammer i’m mentally I’ll
Got myself a licence to print green bills

Got the plates from Pyongyang
The ink from Greenland
The realist bills u ever seen, man
Real so real like Dali’s moustache
Just like Tenille I love me a muskrat

So so real it’s surreal it’s a phantasm
reminds me of my 14th orgasm
The one that happened when I looked at the sun
I remember folks said “son you’re not the only one”

With sunspot stains on your blue jeans
Down in the bleachers nothing’s clean
Take the high road to the cleaners
Take the bus or take the beamer

May 4, 2012

Whac-a-mole Headache

Filed under: 2012 stuff, animal, fashion, Psychology, science — Stevie McCabe @ 2:18 pm

Got a Whac-a-mole headache, pounds like a sieve

Guacamole hitch-hike, somethings gotta give

Katipo spider ready to pounce

A Kakapo spied her and took her out

 

Heck of a thing to explain to a child

What a whac-a-mole headache is, it kills me inside

And every day it gets worse and worse

Some call it a blessing – I call it a curse

 

He left in a pine box, he left in a hearse

He left in a boxcar, dirt-laden with dirt

Conditions so filthy Bin Laden would curse

Stinks to high heaven like Damien Hirst

May 3, 2012

Private Dick

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stevie McCabe @ 7:04 pm

Private PartsPrivate Dick – now you’re back from war

I really hope you found what you were looking for

Under the rug – in the fog of war

Your dog tags gleaming like a mirror on the wall

 

The white feather you sent to that stay-at-home dad

and the one to his daughter his wife and his lad

Made a nice quilt, which stays folded in peace

While you you march march march to defeat-feat-feat!

 

Hup Two Three Four marching ants go through the door

Hup Six Seven Eight all good ants go though the gate

Private Dick! Private Parts! Show your Privates in the park!

Private Room! Private Dancer! Keep your Privates free of cancer!

 

 

Pretty Eyes

Filed under: 2012 stuff, Anger, beauty, Hope, humanity, People, Songs, Spirituality, style — Stevie McCabe @ 3:21 pm

I just want to drink in yr pretty eyes
Lick the pupil and taste the iris
Don’t want to deaden yr pretty eyes
But if they’re dead already, o, Osiris

Now Billy-Ray and Miley had a real thing
But she found out ’bout Billy and Hannah
You come here again without exact change
I’ll kick your ass to Indiana

All across the state line
City limits too
Fighting back tears like a soldier of love
All the while questioning who is who

Fire and ice in your pretty eyes
Tell me where the passion burns
Freezer burns from yr pretty pretty eyes
The table has turned, the butter has turned

Rancid as a rampant Rumpole of the Bailey
Robust in every way but one
Smiley-house gizzards make a lot of sense
When you’re piling the blows on a chum

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