Thursday, April 15, 2010


Grunthos the Flatulent, Azgoth Poet Master of Kria. The Azgoths compose the second worst poetry in the Universe, an example of which follows. Please close your eyes now.

Caustic the bile that grumbles within,
Stirring amino acid reflux.
Belch thrust up and swallowed,
Forced down,
down, down,
Fermenting explosively,
Mere inches from underpants.


Tom Landry said...

O blinky threadwiddle awash with caustic bile

You rise and sting at my gorge

I squash you back down with that which seeps from between my toes

I puke your body eclectic

With stinking footpad, beneath which

You ooze in the throes of willing enslavement

To my mouldy, pedantic needs.

Oh blinky threadwiddle,

You should consider yourself lucky

As I've only infected you once.

Jay said...

Dear Mr. Landry,

We are pleased to inform you that your putrid poesy has placed third in our Azgothian Verse-Off Competition for the year 783611.


You, together with the family of your choice, will fly First Class steerage to the drabtastic planet of Kria, there to be whined and dined (mostly whined) for three days and twelve nights at the gaudy Dry Retch Resort. Along about the sixth night you'll genuflect before His Flatulence, Lord Grunthos, Poet Master and be allowed the esteemed honor of licking his armpit. Then, it's off to the Verse-Off where you'll recite your messterpiece before an interstellar audience of dozens. Finally, you'll receive your Third Place Trophy along with enough maggots and cheese turds to sustain you on your 472 light year journey back to Earth.

We know how difficult it is to muster thanks at a time like this when you're all choked up by the honor we have bestowed upon you, so we'll just say "Save it for your audience before Lord Grunthos." He demands a Vogonic amount of gratitude.