Many, many moons ago – after a lusty night of topless dancers, binge drinking, and whip-cracking unprotected sex with blurry-looking hookers – I awoke in the middle of a gravel road… and a Christ-like revelation came to me. My booze-numbed mind rattled a beautiful psalm of love and humility. Hastily, I crawled home and fired-up the computer.
I wrote down what I would later call my first “nome.” Now, what is a nome, my dear students of Novology? Well, if you had opened your textbook entitled The Book of Novatry you would find out!
A “nome,” my beloved Novanites, is a poem – only done Nova-Style! Instead of poetry, think novatry!
Here is an example:
The Novanator
I’m the Sexecutioner of the clitoris
I always hit and never miss
And keep my bitch in a state of bliss
I pull out my jang and nut on her belly
I leave that girl smelly
Her name was Kim... or maybe it’s Kelly?
Now go and make me a sandwich, bitch
Your rash better not make my Johnson itch
Slice some turkey and some cheese
Go put some Band-Aids on your knees
I’ll eat the sandwich really fast
And bust a nut in your ass!
It’s because I am the Novanator
A fornicating instigator
When I was a kid I was a chronic masturbator.
I looked at my first nudie mag at age seven
Even if there isn’t a God, I knew there was a heaven
Saw two bitches eat each other in front of me at age 11
I’ll NEVER have sex with someone named Kevin.
I am the person mothers fear the most
Because I’m cool as jelly and hot as toast!
I am the Novanator!
Yes, there is nothing like crafting a good, high-quality nome. It may not be better than banging out sweet shaven snatch, but it is a nice way to get some thoughts out after pounding a 12-pack of Corona.
Here is another one:
Ode to the Hummingbird
Oh Hummingbird, you take flight,
You stick your beak into nectar,
Find a flower nice and tight,
Eat ‘em up like Hannibal Lecter!
You don’t like chewing bubble gum,
But vibrate with the greatest of ease,
Flap those wings ‘til it’s time to cum,
‘Cause the flower is a bitch to please!
It is easy to write a nome, my beloved Novanites. Whenever I get a chance, I write down lines of novatry, always gleaning inspiration from a myriad of sources. Write about what you know! Write about what you WANT to know. Better yet, write some sappy sentimental shit that’ll get your ass laid. Want an example?
Dearly Beloved
Your beauty takes my breath away,
And makes me glad that I’m not gay.
You cast a spell upon my worm,
I love you, bitch – now eat my sperm.
See? Ain’t novatry magical? You can almost hear the harps playing in the background, can’t you? Bitches get so WET when they hear a well-written nome, they’ll literally slide across the floor, as if water skiing. Swoosh, swoosh!
And if your nome falls upon deaf ears, well, just put a hip-hop beat behind it and start rapping. Fuck, it’ll STILL be better than that repulsive Ludacris garbage.
So start writing – and start making this world a more melodious place.
Jeah.
Showing posts with label sperm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sperm. Show all posts
Friday, January 9, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
66.6% Saved: The Unholy Trilogy, Part II
Note: Part I of this riveting series can be viewed here.
“I need to ask you, my God-fearing brothers and sisters: What led you to join my seminar about the Prince of Peace and King of Kings? While all of our fellow students are wantonly violating the divine edicts of God and engaging in carnal wickedness, why have you chosen to walk the path of righteousness? In other words, why are you here?”
Brian the Bible Boy stood upright before his flock, looking like a cross between Alex P. Keaton and Cameron Diaz’s retarded brother in There’s Something about Mary. Brian hoisted his oversized corduroy pants well above his bellybutton, and draped a shiny golden crucifix around his pale, fleshy neck. (By the way, is it just me… or are golden crucifixes just about the polar opposite of EVERYTHING Jesus stood for? Millions of poor people can’t even afford a pot to piss in – and rich goobers like Brian waste their money on gaudy religious symbols, in an infantile effort to flaunt their faith and wealth. What an insecure cocksucker! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The only people I’ll tolerate wearing large golden crucifixes are ugly black kids who NEED the bling-bling in order to trick women into thinking that they like Jesus and have money. Nobody else. And certainly not a chromosome-challenged propagandist like Brian.)
Anyway, five girls and four dudes surrounded the Bible Boy (myself and D.S. included). One of the females replied to Brian’s question in typical Christian fashion:
“To learn about the teachings of our Lord and savior Jesus Christ!” this top-heavy brunette robotically blurted. She wasn’t particularly bad looking, my Novanites; a guy could definitely fuck her in the ass without getting teased by his friends. But other than those nice floppy tits, she wasn’t anything particularly special. Frankly, on at least three separate occasions, I’ve banged a higher quality of pussy at the old age home.
“Exactly, my fellow Christian!” Brian cooed, stretching a ridiculously elongated smile across his ever-so-pious face – the kind of exaggerated smile that babes use on bartenders to get free drinks without having to put out. “Who else?”
“To better understand how we can spread the word of God to our classmates,” cheerfully chimed an acne-ravaged mess who almost certainly came from one of those strange, fictional households with 2.5 children and a white picket fence, where everyone always eats dinner together and Dad only beats the shit out of Mom when she burns the meatloaf.
“Wonderful answer,” Brian grinned. “Anybody else?”
A smoking hot cutie who, I later discovered, went by the name of Janet Dubowski and had recently turned her life over to Jesus Christ after fucking up so spectacularly that nobody else would talk to her, spoke next: “To avoid eternal damnation and embrace the spirit of our Heavenly Father!”
“Excellent, Janet! You’ve learned so much,” Captain Christian beamed, still looking like a young Michael J. Fox with Down syndrome. Brian flipped open the Good Book and gazed downward. “Now let’s all turn to Genesis 4:12 and—”
“Uh, I know why I’m here,” D.S. interrupted, cutting off Bible Boy just as he was about to delve into a discussion that probably would’ve bettered the world.
“Oh. Ok, Billy. Uh… why are you here?” Brian’s smile immediately faded from his mealy mouth. This would-be minister learned of Billy’s slap-happy reputation after D.S. penis-whipped his roommate’s ex-girlfriend last month, and Brian obviously feared for the safety of his vulnerable minions.
“I know you wanna get into Genesis, and that is, like, a totally killer book, but I’m more interested in the end of it all. You know, like Revelations. That story trips me out, man.”
“It’s not a story, it is reality. But go on, Billy.”
“Well, I’ve been reading this series of books called Left Behind. They deal with the End Days, and, like, WOW! Super spooky! I mean, that’s really some heavy-duty shit.”
“Yes, I’ve read all those books as well. And please refrain from profanity. Remember: W.W.J.D.”
“W.W.J.D.?” Billy asked.
“It is an acronym. It stands for ‘What Would Jesus Do?’”
“You don’t think Jesus ever cussed? Seriously, when Christ was on the cross, you don’t think he screamed the Hebrew equivalent of ‘shit’ as the nails were hammered into his palms?” Billy asked (while shoveling a jelly-filled doughnut into his pie-hole).
“Jesus spoke Aramaic, not Hebrew. And I don’t understand what that has to do with Genesis or Revelations, Billy.”
“It has everything to do with it. I am here to tell you that the End Days are here. Already. Like, right now.”
The study group fell quiet. Everyone sat transfixed as Billy Broden spun his theological web:
“Listen,” D.S. lectured, “don’t you feel like the world is falling into the abyss every time you look around? War, death, famine, and Mormons are everywhere. Wake up, my fellow Christians! The Biblical signs of the apocalypse are all around us! You see your fellow students partying, doing drugs, drinking, fucking—”
“Billy!” Brian exclaimed. “Remember: W.W.J.D.”
“I’m more of a fan of the W.W.F., but that’s cool. Can I continue?”
“Wrap it up. We have some extremely serious scriptures to catch up on. And I want to share with everyone a very interesting parable about a greedy king and a gassy frog.” Brian tapped his Casio wristwatch like a self-important wonk. And my Novanites, this apostatizing doofus sorely tempted my fists to launch forward and pound the fuck out of his holier-than-thou face. Just the way he looked, for some strange reason, annoyed the shit out of me. I hadn’t instinctively hated anyone with such a fiery passion since that rat-bastard Kenny G.
“Alright,” D.S. continued. “To make a long story short, I’m here to help my fellow Christians understand that the Devil walks amongst us in human form. Today and now! No, he doesn’t wear horns or wield a pitchfork, but he’s readying his plans for the earth’s Armageddon. The Devil is evil incarnate! And he’s probably a Jew, or something. Heavy metal music, homosexuals, and all those abortions give him great strength. But he can be defeated; the Book of Revelations proves this fact to all good Christians willing to learn! We must stick together, comforting God’s children with unbridled love. And we must heed Christ’s commandments, such as ‘be fruitful and multiply.’ For when the End Days comes, I don’t want to be… left… behind!”
Brian looked puzzled. The rest of the group sat stunned.
D.S. peaked over at Janet and flashed her a timid, Christ-like smile. She seemed frightened by this apparent zealot, but at the same time intrigued.
“The end of the world is going to be very cold,” he whispered to her. “We must do everything we can to bring warmth and light into this temporal life while there’s still time.”
That was all it took. When Brian left the room to take a tinkle, your Novanator and D.S. hightailed it out of the discussion group with gentle Janet in our arms. After several beers (plus a few fagotty Zimas for the lady), we both banged Janet in our dorm room. I went first – while Billy Broden was running around campus, posting candid camera shots of last week’s cum-covered coeds – and D.S. batted cleanup after I left for a beer run. He later claimed that he got the Christian clittie to orgasm six times. I had to take his word for it, as I was busy eating a sandwich in the lobby, got distracted by some drunk chick with an apple-shaped ass, and spent the night over at her place. He naturally showed me some dick-slapping photos he took of Janet after she fell asleep.
But W.W.N.D.?
66.6% Saved, Part II: W.W.J.D.?
“I need to ask you, my God-fearing brothers and sisters: What led you to join my seminar about the Prince of Peace and King of Kings? While all of our fellow students are wantonly violating the divine edicts of God and engaging in carnal wickedness, why have you chosen to walk the path of righteousness? In other words, why are you here?”
Brian the Bible Boy stood upright before his flock, looking like a cross between Alex P. Keaton and Cameron Diaz’s retarded brother in There’s Something about Mary. Brian hoisted his oversized corduroy pants well above his bellybutton, and draped a shiny golden crucifix around his pale, fleshy neck. (By the way, is it just me… or are golden crucifixes just about the polar opposite of EVERYTHING Jesus stood for? Millions of poor people can’t even afford a pot to piss in – and rich goobers like Brian waste their money on gaudy religious symbols, in an infantile effort to flaunt their faith and wealth. What an insecure cocksucker! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The only people I’ll tolerate wearing large golden crucifixes are ugly black kids who NEED the bling-bling in order to trick women into thinking that they like Jesus and have money. Nobody else. And certainly not a chromosome-challenged propagandist like Brian.)
Anyway, five girls and four dudes surrounded the Bible Boy (myself and D.S. included). One of the females replied to Brian’s question in typical Christian fashion:
“To learn about the teachings of our Lord and savior Jesus Christ!” this top-heavy brunette robotically blurted. She wasn’t particularly bad looking, my Novanites; a guy could definitely fuck her in the ass without getting teased by his friends. But other than those nice floppy tits, she wasn’t anything particularly special. Frankly, on at least three separate occasions, I’ve banged a higher quality of pussy at the old age home.
“Exactly, my fellow Christian!” Brian cooed, stretching a ridiculously elongated smile across his ever-so-pious face – the kind of exaggerated smile that babes use on bartenders to get free drinks without having to put out. “Who else?”
“To better understand how we can spread the word of God to our classmates,” cheerfully chimed an acne-ravaged mess who almost certainly came from one of those strange, fictional households with 2.5 children and a white picket fence, where everyone always eats dinner together and Dad only beats the shit out of Mom when she burns the meatloaf.
“Wonderful answer,” Brian grinned. “Anybody else?”
A smoking hot cutie who, I later discovered, went by the name of Janet Dubowski and had recently turned her life over to Jesus Christ after fucking up so spectacularly that nobody else would talk to her, spoke next: “To avoid eternal damnation and embrace the spirit of our Heavenly Father!”
“Excellent, Janet! You’ve learned so much,” Captain Christian beamed, still looking like a young Michael J. Fox with Down syndrome. Brian flipped open the Good Book and gazed downward. “Now let’s all turn to Genesis 4:12 and—”
“Uh, I know why I’m here,” D.S. interrupted, cutting off Bible Boy just as he was about to delve into a discussion that probably would’ve bettered the world.
“Oh. Ok, Billy. Uh… why are you here?” Brian’s smile immediately faded from his mealy mouth. This would-be minister learned of Billy’s slap-happy reputation after D.S. penis-whipped his roommate’s ex-girlfriend last month, and Brian obviously feared for the safety of his vulnerable minions.
“I know you wanna get into Genesis, and that is, like, a totally killer book, but I’m more interested in the end of it all. You know, like Revelations. That story trips me out, man.”
“It’s not a story, it is reality. But go on, Billy.”
“Well, I’ve been reading this series of books called Left Behind. They deal with the End Days, and, like, WOW! Super spooky! I mean, that’s really some heavy-duty shit.”
“Yes, I’ve read all those books as well. And please refrain from profanity. Remember: W.W.J.D.”
“W.W.J.D.?” Billy asked.
“It is an acronym. It stands for ‘What Would Jesus Do?’”
“You don’t think Jesus ever cussed? Seriously, when Christ was on the cross, you don’t think he screamed the Hebrew equivalent of ‘shit’ as the nails were hammered into his palms?” Billy asked (while shoveling a jelly-filled doughnut into his pie-hole).
“Jesus spoke Aramaic, not Hebrew. And I don’t understand what that has to do with Genesis or Revelations, Billy.”
“It has everything to do with it. I am here to tell you that the End Days are here. Already. Like, right now.”
The study group fell quiet. Everyone sat transfixed as Billy Broden spun his theological web:
“Listen,” D.S. lectured, “don’t you feel like the world is falling into the abyss every time you look around? War, death, famine, and Mormons are everywhere. Wake up, my fellow Christians! The Biblical signs of the apocalypse are all around us! You see your fellow students partying, doing drugs, drinking, fucking—”
“Billy!” Brian exclaimed. “Remember: W.W.J.D.”
“I’m more of a fan of the W.W.F., but that’s cool. Can I continue?”
“Wrap it up. We have some extremely serious scriptures to catch up on. And I want to share with everyone a very interesting parable about a greedy king and a gassy frog.” Brian tapped his Casio wristwatch like a self-important wonk. And my Novanites, this apostatizing doofus sorely tempted my fists to launch forward and pound the fuck out of his holier-than-thou face. Just the way he looked, for some strange reason, annoyed the shit out of me. I hadn’t instinctively hated anyone with such a fiery passion since that rat-bastard Kenny G.
“Alright,” D.S. continued. “To make a long story short, I’m here to help my fellow Christians understand that the Devil walks amongst us in human form. Today and now! No, he doesn’t wear horns or wield a pitchfork, but he’s readying his plans for the earth’s Armageddon. The Devil is evil incarnate! And he’s probably a Jew, or something. Heavy metal music, homosexuals, and all those abortions give him great strength. But he can be defeated; the Book of Revelations proves this fact to all good Christians willing to learn! We must stick together, comforting God’s children with unbridled love. And we must heed Christ’s commandments, such as ‘be fruitful and multiply.’ For when the End Days comes, I don’t want to be… left… behind!”
Brian looked puzzled. The rest of the group sat stunned.
D.S. peaked over at Janet and flashed her a timid, Christ-like smile. She seemed frightened by this apparent zealot, but at the same time intrigued.
“The end of the world is going to be very cold,” he whispered to her. “We must do everything we can to bring warmth and light into this temporal life while there’s still time.”
That was all it took. When Brian left the room to take a tinkle, your Novanator and D.S. hightailed it out of the discussion group with gentle Janet in our arms. After several beers (plus a few fagotty Zimas for the lady), we both banged Janet in our dorm room. I went first – while Billy Broden was running around campus, posting candid camera shots of last week’s cum-covered coeds – and D.S. batted cleanup after I left for a beer run. He later claimed that he got the Christian clittie to orgasm six times. I had to take his word for it, as I was busy eating a sandwich in the lobby, got distracted by some drunk chick with an apple-shaped ass, and spent the night over at her place. He naturally showed me some dick-slapping photos he took of Janet after she fell asleep.
But W.W.N.D.?
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