Death is like a chocolate cake (monologue number 1)

Death, like a chocolate cake is something you always regret. It's dressed so nicelyand the first taste is great, You want to fuck the chocolate cake with your mouth,
it's devastating, there is eager lust. The sponge , if it fills your hands, feels like a good pair of breasts, or a dick you want to shove in your mouth.

You can't keep eating death. It's an addiction. The taste isn't really that good,it makes you fat,people will see the guilt written on your face You'll get spotsand you won't be able to make any friends.

If death is your first craving in the morning, you have a problem. How do you know? You get out of bed (right?), you feel like a normal person (right?), er....actually, the death addict doesn't get out of bed like a normal person, in fact the moment at which you know the world is an alright place, life is good and that you feel nimble enough to make a good start, now THAT is the moment you start thinking about death; craving it, wanting it,fondling it

You
are a serious, hardcore death addict!

Aargh!
My head is caving in
I can't do this
think of all the horrible things that have happened.
What about all the horrible things thatare going to happen?

When morning doesn't bring death anymoreIt's no supriseIt usually comes after a dream

There is a light shinningI can't hear a voicewhere are all the other people!

When the death cravingdoesn't come visiting in the morningthe sheets are usually cleanYou did something goodyou were totally alone...weren't you?!

Why I love Wonder Woman

You Are the anti-type of the woman I never wanted to be,

Mrs All American Plastic type hero.
You brought us 70's type feminine freedoms for young minds,

in stars and stripes with big, immobile hips, red lips, side kicks

and less than adverterous tricks!

But you were all we had to fixour small tired minds on at 4pm

before the good natured mothers - so willing to please, in the adverts about oxo gravy and cereal made to appease the family she loved.

And we knew, that only an almost hero - like you, could save us from the chances that we too, could become so dull

Oh,

Mrs swinging hips,
bright coloured,
shinny lips,
whitened teeth
with not much in the way of quips
plumped up boobs with matching boots,
set in truth to look like a good partners to a whip!

Your nails never broke,
your voice still spoke only the hollywood words on which some men would wish to choke!

But in your umbilical rebellionYou brought us some sort of hope.