A Mothers Lament
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Nappy's Lament: The Don Imus Story free porn video
NAPPY'S LAMENT
(the Don Imus story)
A bit of doggeral
by The Gimp.
I once was Don Imus but now I'm a slut,
who gets fucked in the cunt and the mouth and the butt.
Yes I once had my very own radio show;
when I talked more better, and not like no Ho.
All I can say now is things like: "Sho 'nuff";
"Yowza!" and "Um-gawa" and "Feets do yo' stuff!"...
And to negotiate prices for services rendered,
by this dumb two-bit floozy of a new race and gender.
Oh I used to be famous all throughout the land,
I basked in fanatical praise from my fans.
The more vicious I was the more money I made.
Such a damned cynical cavalier jade.
I made fun of homos, spicks, spooks and chinks,
and my mysogynist raving always raised quite a stink!
And when some bleeding heart took exception to me,
I sneered in disgust and I called him PC.
My life was a playland of thoughtless bombast
with no consequences, that I thought would last.
But the night that the Rutger's girls played Tennessee.
Everyone suddenly came after me!
Maybe my comments pushed the limits a bit;
but tell me those home girls weren't skanky as shit!
The girl's basketball coach wanted my head on a pike,
Well what can you expect from a man-hating dyke?
"Suspended? You're kidding! Now come on here, folks;
You know how I am! Can't these coons take a joke?"
Then when bigmouth Al Sharpton waded into the fray,
I needed a drink in a serious way.
I saw nothing amiss when approached in that bar;
It's just one of my perks as a media star.
She was young black and smart, she praised my keen wit,
her journalism class all thought I was hot shit.
She apologized for the overreaction
of a certain hysterical liberal faction.
"Words can't hurt anyone," I said. She agreed,
and said "Regulation of speech we don't need."
She said, "Only a wimp would expect the State
to act as their nanny and forbid us to hate."
"Opinion's protected, even if it's not 'nice'",
she said as she swirled her Drambuie on ice.
She railed against censorship, free speech was her passion
(Laying her trap in a sinister fashion...).
She'd had her hair processed, her features were fine;
As I lit her cheroot her hand lingered on mine.
Why can't they all be as cultured as this,
I thought as she leaned in and gave me a kiss.
We went to her room & knocked back some more booze,
as we disrobed I noticed she had lots of tattoos.
She threw her wadded panties into my cowboy hat;
I smirked my opinion: "A lucky shot, that!"
She said, "Wanna bet? If I land this successfully,
then I call the shots here for all we do sexually!"
I told her, "You're on, but if it lands on the floor,
then I get to screw your sweet little back door."
In hindsight, I know... I should have spotted a hustle,
but at the time I was thinking with a whole different muscle.
She tied me to the bed which seemed nice and kinky;
then she recited something made me feel all hinky.
Her voice got real deep and it thundered- satanic!
As her eyes burned bright red I'll confess that I panicked.
She sneered, "You insulted my sisters and me,
before the whole nation, quite offhandedly...
"But I looked good enough when you wanted to fuck,
you butt-ugly bastardly hypocrite schmuck!"
And then I beheld in the mirror above me,
a scene straight from the X-Files! (w/ David Duchovney)
I was shrinking and turning a much darker hue,
my dick and balls shrivelled my boobs grew and grew!
And when that mysterious glow did subside-
"Oh where did my weenie go?" I cried, cried and cried.
I wailed, "Whatchoo wanna do me like dat fo?
Oh lawdy lawdy, I'se a nappy haired Ho!"
She smiled, "We'd agreed that free speech was fine.
Well when I said that spell I was just practicing mine.
"Words can't hurt people, isn't that what you said?
So now come and meet your new pimp, Memphis Red."
So that's how I wound up out here on this corner;
My life's just a blur now of backseats and boners.
Cruel ethnic slurs can be jolly good fun,
until you insult a center who's skilled in Vodoun.
I used to be famous for venting my spleen,
before I ran afoul of a B-ball voodoo queen.
I'm a pure sex machine, my profile's obscene,
a vile racist cartoon like from 1913.
I'm a walking, jive-talking black stereotype:
leopard skin + red spandex purple wig, a crack pipe.
My skin's like the night sky my lips freakishly huge,
as are these tits on which my tricks shoot their splooge.
The red six-inch stilettos with which I walk the street,
are somehow indelibly fused to my feet.
Yes I once was the king of the morning shock jocks;
Now I'm just this thing that gets rammed full of cocks.
My customers think that it's really quite strange
that I blow them for quarters & give them back change.
They don't understand this curse, this compulsion
to act in a way that fills me with revulsion.
The Ho on the outside is living her dreams,
while deep down inside her the man I am screams.
I SUPPORT MR. IMUS' RIGHT TO SAY ANY DAMN FOOL THING HE WANTS. THE ABOVE WAS ME HAVING MY OWN SAY ABOUT THE EVIL FUCKING PRICK. ----Da Gimp.
Cayleigh
- 07.03.2022
- 39
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