Spammer’s Ode #1

While clearing out the spammers’ attempts to post comments to this website today, I was struck by the rather attractive rhythm they formed — if “attractive” is the right word. Here, then, is the first poetry I’ve written in more than 20 years, entitled…

Spammer’s Ode #1

Boobs.

Teen Boobs.
Boobs.

Big Boobs.
Small Boobs.
Boobs.

Naked Boobs.
Boobs.

Bouncy Boobs!

Black Boobs.
Perfect Boobs.
Boobs.

Small Boobs.
Sexy Boobs.
Boobs.

Small Boobs.
Bouncy Boobs.
Baby got Boobs.

Pussy.

Hot Pussy.
Black Pussy.
Wet Pussy.
Britney Spears Pussy.

Teen Pussy.
Virgin’s Pussy.

Teen Pussy.
Young Pussy.
Hot Pussy.
Hairy Pussy.
Tight Pussy.
Pussy.

Pussy Licking.
Britney Spears Pussy.
Britney Spears Pussy.
Dick in a Pussy…
Tight Pussy!

Asian Pussy.
Hairy Pussy.
Young Pussy.

Asian Pussy.
Hairy Pussy.
Young Pussy.

Asian Pussy.
Hairy Pussy.
Young Pussy.

Free ringtones.

15 Replies to “Spammer’s Ode #1”

  1. OK, my immediate thoughts after hitting the “Publish” button are:

    1. Why is a gay man writing a poem about boobs and pussy?
    2. What will people think of me if this poem is their very first encounter with me?
    3. Why am I bloody well writing poetry anyway, of all things?
    4. Will this generate even more traffic to this website that those fucking Steve Irwin jokes?
  2. I smell a novelty pop hit in the making. All we need is the tinny MIDI backing track and some generously endowed women shaking their stuff in the music video. “Pussy Galore” needs to be either the track or artist name.

  3. ‘A hit, a palpable hit’?

    Seriously, I’m CRYING with laughter right now. This may be your finest hour.

  4. Zoe, maybe that should be the title: “Ringtones”.

    Richard, I give up! I can try to write serious political commentary, point people to interesting material — but what gets the best reaction is… Steve Irwin Jokes or stringing together the crap in front of me that contains “rude words”.

    Now, read it all again and imagine the sound of Ian Dury and the Blockheads with Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick.

  5. OK, folks, it’s now “in the system”, job number 16008. The relevant people will be notified over the next two working days.

    Maybe the sound is more like King Crimson’s Elephant Talk (or am I thinking of the Adrian Belew version?).

  6. On reflection, your poem reminds me of one of Lenny Bruce’s comic pieces.

    If you are going to record it, maybe you should use some sort of text-to-speech software to deliver the ‘vocals’, for added comic effect.

    As far as a backing track goes, I’m hearing the mid-’90s Blur hit, ‘Girls And Boys’, or Moby’s ‘We Are all Made Of Stars’.

  7. Oh dear, this is going to take on a life of its own, eh?

    Using text-to-speech certainly saves having to think of who’d do the vocals — and a lot cheaper.

    I already have a session muso and recording engineer in mind.

    And I just remembered I have something like $15k credit in advertising in a national pop music magazine…

    Shooting fish in a barrel.

  8. Followed your link here from today’s porn article. You wrote this before I started reading and contributing to your blog, but I seem to remember hearing about it from you on the phone one day — this was one of the main ideas that led to Skank Media, was it not?

    Nevertheless, can I just say — you’ve really done me proud with this effort, Stilgherrian. This is pure pop culture at its most base and beautiful. The ending is perfect. And there can be no greater acclaim than to simply say, “I wish I’d done that!”

  9. @StanmoreRob: I was wondering whether I should explain “anus poetry” for those who didn’t see that conversation unfold on Twitter this afternoon — but I shan’t. It shall remain as one of those odd little mysteries in life. And thank you.

  10. For you:

    SNATCHERWOCKY

    ‘Twas pitiful, as the fearful nerd
    Did venture forth to catch the Cunt.
    Strange mutterings he heard,
    That urged him not to start the hunt.

    “Beware the Naked Cunt, my son!
    The jaws that bite, the maws that catch!
    Beware the big jugged bird, and shun
    The curious Mandersnatch!”

    He took his corporeal sword in hand:
    Long time the minxsome bird he sought —
    So rested he by the Cum Cum tree,
    And stood awhile in thought.

    And, as in oafish thought he stood,
    The Naked Cunt, with heart of flame,
    While grappling with the turgid wood,
    Did burble as it came!

    One, two! One, two! And through and through
    The corporeal blade went snicker-snack!
    His sword was dead, the Cunt was fed,
    So he made the journey back.

    “And, hast thou slain the Naked Cunt?
    Come to my arms, my righteous boy!
    O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
    He chortled in his joy.

    ‘Twas pitiful, as the fearful nerd
    Did venture forth to catch the Cunt.
    Strange mutterings he heard,
    That urged him not to start the hunt.

    — Tanya

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