Guest Post!
Our good buddy, Curtis (we won't say his last name explicitly just in case his ex googles him and sees this), wrote an epic poem about an ex girlfriend of his and we wanted to share it with you.
For those of you who give a hoot, Curtis is a freshman at NYU and a member of NYU’s improv team Dangerbox. He’s a hilarious son of gun with a talent for writing songs and poems about poop. If you’d like to learn more about Curtis, such as what’s his favorite Starbucks beverage or what’s his social security number, send us a message and we’ll make sure he receives it! Also, follow him on Twitter here! Enough of this intro garbage- without further ado, here is…
The Tale of Diarrhea Claire
by Curtis
Come gather ‘round children, and I’ll spin you a yarn
‘Bout a girl who produced more foul smells than a barn
Handmade by the Lord, to earth she was sent down
To fulfill a holy prophecy of brown
But her presence brought not the end, twasn’t the rapture
But the heart of God’s nemesis she was to capture
A bespectacled lad with unruly blonde hair
Had been doubting God, asserting he wasn’t there
To silence his doubt, drown in brown his dissent
To earth a spirit of evil God sent
He sent her to the south, birthed in Tennessee
A true southern belle, ‘til she left after week three
She voyaged to Glen Ellyn, where her victim awaited
But many years were to pass before the two dated
She waited patiently to take this boy’s life and spoil it
(Most of this waiting took place on the toilet)
Have such patience children, for ‘tis now time to share
The most woeful tale of Diarrhea Claire
She nestled in Glen Ellyn, won the villagers’ hearts
Then retired to privacy and unleashed her sharts
For Claire’s great secret, that I shall now reveal
Was that she had mad diarrhea after every meal
Chick-fil-a and McDonald’s, they were her vice,
Though her doctors she told that she dined on white rice
But the snack that to Claire was most highly rated,
Was whatever the dicks she sucked ejaculated
She gave head in the Starbucks lot with great glee
While mother awaited her presence patiently
When the vile act was over she shared mother’s drink
But the splooj made her have sticky ‘rrhea in the sink
She bounced about friendships, went group to group
But told none the liquid nature of her poop
‘Twas in year eleven she set sights on her victim
Gave all ‘round her the illusion she’d picked’em
Yet the ultimate fate of which all were unaware
Was that this lad would bring doom to Diarrhea Claire