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Pickled Think


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Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Coffee

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LO-FI Breaks it Down

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Ski Bums


Money (in marketing epitaph)

by tommy kirchhoff

John's dad left him his money, His grandpa left his dad all his dough. And so on through the family tree The family mullah did go. Now John leaves all of his kids Sacks of cash as you know that he should Cause it's true with a name like Smuckers, It certainly has to be good.

Sam spent his on the number seven Lost at life, luck land him in heaven. He now looks down on the Vegas strip And relishes betting, cash and chip. Oh, what he'd give for neon light And a chance to make it a blockbuster night.

Here lies Sally, without a doubt, her ship had come in but the truck backed out. It was red as can be and strangest of things-- shaped like a bull, Red bull gives you wings.

I started with none And built up a ton "You want it," says my psyche It's buried with me, and deadly traps three, You say, He likes it, hey Mikey. To Mary's priest, she made daily confession. (Prostitution was her chosen profession) She had, as they say, money to blow, Nightly she sold a honey of an ohhh.

adios and hasta nunca we spit on the sangre de Bill por lying and cheating y stealing a man made his sangre spill this mundo takes its dinero back Bill rapidamente to hell forever he'll starve and think to himself, Yo quiero taco bell

This dreamer dreamt a life of grand Then grasped it in his weakened hand To meet the mark he worked and planned With many years of hardship spanned This story may seem so far trite But listen to his self-made blight: In times when debts grew great in height He sold his blood to keep things tight At forty bucks a bleedin' pop The years did yeild a vampire's crop And funded success at his health's lop The guy was good to the last drop.