"PUT THE FUCKIN MONEY IN THE BAG, YOU FINE LOOKIN PIECE-UH-ASS!" Kid hollered at the old ass counter girl at McDonalds. We needed that money. We had a porno to shoot.
"GIVE US THE MONEY OR I CUT THIS BITCH FROM NECK TO DICK-SLOT!" I asserted, grabbing an old maid by the figurative balls, literally earlobes.
"HAHA, Nice one S.S.!" Kid chortled from behind his mask.
"God Dammit, Kid!" I chided, removing my own mask. "We weren't supposed to let anyone know who we are, dude!"
"Oh SHEAT!"
"wIlL yOu lEt Us gO NoW?" the old lady squawked in a voice as annoying as her typed dialogue.
I threw her through the plate-glass window for being uppity.
"DAYUM, S.S.! Niceeee"
"Hell yeah, I don't fuck around. You hear me? Scott Alan Stapp, social security number 260184602, DOESN'T fuck around!" I then paused to look directly into the security camera. Then Kid pulled the counter girl's spleen out of her eyeballs and she died.
We are currently awaiting arraingment in San Mateo county for murder and grand larceny. Turns out those guys at McDonalds have almost as good lawyers as I do!
-Scott "please don't anally rape me while I'm in here guys, please I am rich! --Oh, shit! I mean, I'm... not rich? ARGH-GOD THE RAPE, IT HURTS!" A. Stapp, out!
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
At the grocery story (adventures with kid rock pt.2)
"Dude," Kid looked at me, brandishing a tub of vasoline. "You wanna bet me five bucks I can cum in this before security kicks us out?"
"Hell yeah," I nodded, knowing full well that Kid takes at least 55 minutes to jism.
...
35 minutes later...
"I'm... almost... there!" Kid shouted.
"Wow, dude! It's goin quick today!"
"Um, excuse me, Mr. Rock, Mr. Stapp?" A young, timid bagboy started.
"God DAMMIT!" I slapped him with my left hand, then again with my right hand. "You address us as MR. Mr. Rock and Dr. Dr. Dr. Stapp--I've got three doctorates for fuck'sake!"
"Uh, sorry sirs..."
"Sorry MR. Mr. Rock and Dr. Dr. Dr. Stapp!" I corrected him.
"Yes... well, be that as it may, we've had some, uh, complaints from the other customers... It seems that Mr... MR. Mr. Rock here, has been, uh, fucking a tube of vasoline for the better part of the last hour..."
"THAS GODDAM RIGH'!" Kid grunted. "OH SHIT!"
The bagboy looked confused. "It's okay," Kid said, handing him the used tub. "I came. Lets roll, S.S."
I slapped the bagboy again, with my ass, and we left.
-Scott A. Stapp, out!
"Hell yeah," I nodded, knowing full well that Kid takes at least 55 minutes to jism.
...
35 minutes later...
"I'm... almost... there!" Kid shouted.
"Wow, dude! It's goin quick today!"
"Um, excuse me, Mr. Rock, Mr. Stapp?" A young, timid bagboy started.
"God DAMMIT!" I slapped him with my left hand, then again with my right hand. "You address us as MR. Mr. Rock and Dr. Dr. Dr. Stapp--I've got three doctorates for fuck'sake!"
"Uh, sorry sirs..."
"Sorry MR. Mr. Rock and Dr. Dr. Dr. Stapp!" I corrected him.
"Yes... well, be that as it may, we've had some, uh, complaints from the other customers... It seems that Mr... MR. Mr. Rock here, has been, uh, fucking a tube of vasoline for the better part of the last hour..."
"THAS GODDAM RIGH'!" Kid grunted. "OH SHIT!"
The bagboy looked confused. "It's okay," Kid said, handing him the used tub. "I came. Lets roll, S.S."
I slapped the bagboy again, with my ass, and we left.
-Scott A. Stapp, out!
Scott Stapp's Advice for life (Adventures with Kid Rock pt.1)
So I was hanging out with my buddy Kid Rock the other day (you may remember him from that video of the two of us totally getting our hogs sucked), and he turned to me and said:
"S.S., what do you think is the meaning of life?"
"Good question, Kid," I nodded and thought about it for a moment. "I guess it's makin money and fuckin bitches?"
"Hmm," Kid took this in. "That's pretty good I guess."
"Sure is," I agreed.
Then we both came and the groupies got up and asked if we had any grape soda.
"What do you mean, 'grape soda'?" Kid asked. "I mean really, what the hell is grape soda? I've drank beer my entire life, even when I was a baby I was technically drinking beer, you know, based on how much Mrs. Rock was drinking at the time so that it came out her titty milk and all. But for real, what the hell is grape soda?"
The groupies looked confused.
"What I think Mr. Rock is trying to say here, girls, is this: please tell me you're above the age of eight."
They looked at each other and nodded.
"Good," I said. "Now, just go ahead and tell us your twenty-five and get on out of here. Oh, and leave your underwear, we collect them for a scrap book."
The girls left and me and Kid high-fived.
"Niceeee one, dude," he said.
"I know," I nodded. "I know."
"S.S., what do you think is the meaning of life?"
"Good question, Kid," I nodded and thought about it for a moment. "I guess it's makin money and fuckin bitches?"
"Hmm," Kid took this in. "That's pretty good I guess."
"Sure is," I agreed.
Then we both came and the groupies got up and asked if we had any grape soda.
"What do you mean, 'grape soda'?" Kid asked. "I mean really, what the hell is grape soda? I've drank beer my entire life, even when I was a baby I was technically drinking beer, you know, based on how much Mrs. Rock was drinking at the time so that it came out her titty milk and all. But for real, what the hell is grape soda?"
The groupies looked confused.
"What I think Mr. Rock is trying to say here, girls, is this: please tell me you're above the age of eight."
They looked at each other and nodded.
"Good," I said. "Now, just go ahead and tell us your twenty-five and get on out of here. Oh, and leave your underwear, we collect them for a scrap book."
The girls left and me and Kid high-fived.
"Niceeee one, dude," he said.
"I know," I nodded. "I know."
Monday, May 3, 2010
Lament for my Boner (Poem #2)
So short lived
were you
So long though
so that's
cool
Sweet hog'o'mine,
what was so hard
about staying hard?
Was it that eight
ball of coke?
Maybe the heroine
from that movie
shooting that heroin
into my balls?
Cool name for a song, right?
Heroin Balls.
Nice.
*****
were you
So long though
so that's
cool
Sweet hog'o'mine,
what was so hard
about staying hard?
Was it that eight
ball of coke?
Maybe the heroine
from that movie
shooting that heroin
into my balls?
Cool name for a song, right?
Heroin Balls.
Nice.
*****
Ode to My Hog (Poem #1)
So I've been getting a lot of comments lately that say people are missing me writing sweet songs with sweet new lyrics because my old lyrics in Creed were like a sonic gold dick of poetry. That's pretty good, I think. So anyway, I've decided to start writing poems. FEaSt on ThIs:
Little dude, little dude,
oh wait, no
you're huge and awesome
excuse me,
Big dude, Big dude,
how'd you get so
Awesome?
Sometimes, I walk
to the store, or maybe
down the street
to the corner where that homeless dude
ralph lives.
I saw ralph fuck a hooker once.
It was freaky and I watched
from around the corner
in an alley
cranking you, you sweet
sweet meatbone.
mmm, meat bone.
sounds good, right?
Ladies?
So, back to the walking,
sometimes I do it
and sometimes I'll see a baby
in a stroller
and my baby-
phobia kicks in
OH GOD NOT
NOT-A-FUCKIN-GAIN
baby attack!
babes, flying everywhere.
Babes.
everywhere babes.
******
Cool poem, if I do say so myself. I think I rule just a little bit harder than before.
-Scott A. (poet-king) Stapp, out!
Little dude, little dude,
oh wait, no
you're huge and awesome
excuse me,
Big dude, Big dude,
how'd you get so
Awesome?
Sometimes, I walk
to the store, or maybe
down the street
to the corner where that homeless dude
ralph lives.
I saw ralph fuck a hooker once.
It was freaky and I watched
from around the corner
in an alley
cranking you, you sweet
sweet meatbone.
mmm, meat bone.
sounds good, right?
Ladies?
So, back to the walking,
sometimes I do it
and sometimes I'll see a baby
in a stroller
and my baby-
phobia kicks in
OH GOD NOT
NOT-A-FUCKIN-GAIN
baby attack!
babes, flying everywhere.
Babes.
everywhere babes.
******
Cool poem, if I do say so myself. I think I rule just a little bit harder than before.
-Scott A. (poet-king) Stapp, out!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
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