I wish I could find
a more normal hobby.
Like ninja scat porn or dancing La Bamba.
But taking a dump
or shaking my humps
Don't turn me on as much as toy robots.
For people with herpes
or a ho hooked on meth
there's support groups and remedies to be bought.
But this crack that I'm on
bites like a lion Voltron
and there just ain't no cure for Combaticons.
I'd much rather be
a butt-probed alien abductee.
I could at least shoot them chupacabras.
But my butt can't resist
the flying robot fists
of the roboplastic space invaders from Takara.
Why am I whining?
The Constructicons combining
is still fucking awesome the ten thousandth time.
They never get old,
countless recolors and remolds.
We all need two thousand Optimus Primes.
When I'm dead and at peace
will this robot hunt cease?
Or will I collect GoBot ghosts? Who can tell?
I know there's no God
but there's a GoBots Monster Zod.
And I think there's probably Botcon in hell.
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4 comments:
So?
Does this mean you so completely unable to withdraw that you are coming to the Cowlands this April?
Yes the Vintage Space Toast Tour will be running through Cincinnati in late April. I hear their library has some great microfilm and I want to go check it out for a couple of days.
Preach on brotha, preach on!
Oh, and I guess I'll see you in Cincy!
If there's a BotCon in hell, I'm there. (But then, that really wouldn't make it hell would it?)
And I will be seeing you in Cincy. I'm such a big loser that I can barely wait until April.
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