The Ramblings of Guise Dugal

Ahh yes, it’s that time of the year again, when some pasty-faced, blonde cow-lick haired, fat-faced midget in a cloth diaper wields arrows tipped in an inhibition-removing substance at the chests of people and fleeces them out of pocketfuls of money. Valentines Day.

Obviously, I’ll just harken back to the 2004 Self-Massacre, as it seems pretty constant.

However, this time of year also obviously means that it’s time once again for Reasons Guise doesn’t stay in relationships very long Guise’s Valentine Messages!

Those who were paying attention in 2006 may well recall my last attempts at written romance.

I should, of course, point out that this is entirely in bad taste, is probably not safe for wok, and in no way is a statement condoning stalking, mutilation, sociopathic tendencies or the euphemistically termed ‘surprise sex’.

Of course, this year really kicked off the creative juices after talking to in IMs about Valtentines and comments to the other day. But the first of the romantic lyrics are through the recent LJDQ aftermath with the following:

“Picasso went Red,
After he went Blue,
But I could paint a masterpiece,
On the canvas that is you”I’m stuck on whether to include a receipt for a straight-edge razor or…fingerpaints.

And so, cut for your protection, let me take you into the mind of yours truly for new romantic Valentines mesages.

I listen to your phone calls,
Because you are such a sweet talker,
But you’ve such a playful streak,
and what do the Police mean by “Stalker”?

Our home movies are epic,
Both dramatic and weepy,
But stop looking for my hidden cams,
Honestly, it’s getting quite creepy

This I imagine is quite a problem, I mean it’s always off putting when people look directly in to cameras during intimate parts of movies and stuff, right?

I’m a little bit Country,
You’re a bit Rock n Roll,
I borrowed your clothes hamper
To dress your clone Real Doll
(ps. you need better panties)

The RealDoll. Let’s all applaud science, what marvels they can create. Scary, dead-eyed, fetish marvels it seems.

You giggled at my mis-sayings,
You joked at my quotes,
But now you’re tied up in my basement,
WHO’S LAUGHING NOW YOU VENOMOUS HAG?!

The eyes of the beholder,
The heart of the matter,
To see the beauty of you,
Please ignore the blood splatterThe scattered rose petals would be red,
Your face would become a purple-blue,
Tightly bound to my bed in leather straps,
Auto-erotic asphyxiation is such a good look on you!

Do you know how hard it is to fit ‘auto-erotic asphyxiation’ into a rhyme?!

A dozen red roses,
And a bottle of sparkling white wine,
I’m dressed in the nothing but the finest,
You left out on your washing line

Your footsteps like angels,
Your voice soft and ghost-like
You breathe ever so slightly,
I need to re-calibrate the mic

I thought that one might have been a bit subtle.

You lay before me waking,
Your form delicate and lithe,
We’ll play our games together,
This one I call “Buried Alive”

You used that ‘supposed’ boyfriend
In your played-out fake rejection,
I’m not worried about the future
I’ve already paid him a spot in the obituary sectionI long for that day,
When you’ll accept me on one knee,
‘Til then I’ll just lie under the floorboards
(And watch as you pee) or (Having to drink my own wee)

Tough choice on final wording

My hair shaved right off,
And my gloves made from latex.
It’d all be so perfect,
Except for your stupid gag reflex.

CSI, you teach so many things.

Will Smith on the camp radio,
Saying ’bout Gettin’ Jiggy.
But now you’re out in the backwoods,
I’m-a make you squeal like a piggy

If I broke your heart,
In your tears I would drown.
But I had to snap your neck,
You know I hate clowns.Through out all those lonely nights,
You’ve found comfort and ways of dealing,
I’ve admired your strength.
Please, don’t re-plaster the ceiling.

The last thing anyone wants is plaster on their lens cap and having to re-drill holes. See the film Assassins, no wait, don’t.

You’ve always been so fashionable,
It’s just been your way.
I’d be your undergarments first customer,
If you sold them though eBay.

Such beauty, unimaginable.
The eyes sparkle like rain.
It rubs the lotion on its skin,
Or else it gets the hose again.I dreamed of your smile,
And the soft touch of your hair.
Yet, they wouldn’t let me be with you,
Court order therapy was getting us nowhere.

No more hiding in bushes,
No more gasps down the phone.
We’ll be together forever,
Cos now you’re home all alone.

She lies in an ice bath,
In tube top and skirt oh-so-mini.
I can’t give you my heart,
So I’ll give you her kidney.

And, in honour of the people I’ve friended on LiveJournal, I dedicate custom poems for you all:

Whether Blonde haired or Red,
It’s always that wonderful Tink,
Just need to wait for the fizz to stop,
Before I hand back her drink

His body is his temple,
Our stud-muffin named Spin
I’ll esecrate his altar
Once I’ve plied him with ginSattocs would just kill me
If I joked about him
I don’t fear no grim reaper
But Scott’d rend of my skin

Leah is so funny,
So witty and bright
But with enough of a cudgel,
She wouldn’t put up a fight!

About our dear friend Danai,
or should I say Meghan?
Would be perfect for my road trip,
Burlapped in the back of my station wagon

Kris, me ol’ China,
and me ol’ London salt,
High priestess, divinely
and nekkid sacrifice to my cult

Distracto, the resident hero,
A girl fighting crime,
So I don’t want to tip off or threaten,
In some creepy Valentines rhyme

Squid is a bloody genius,
and utilising audio now,
Just slightly a deviant,
Tentacle Rape? Ask him how!

I’ll reduce creepy lyrics,
To just “Roses are red”,
As I’m avoiding John Wordsworth
Delivering a quaterstaff to my head

Shadowranger is my brother,
so the rhyme’s turned quite sickly
They may well do that in Bridgwater,
But me, I’ll end this quite quickly…

I’m a real bard sometimes, oh wait, I missed a few letters out.