There have been some strange rumours about our Boxhead's romantic entanglements. Indeed resident hillbilly, and President Pedo admirer, Ricardovitz has outright stated that he thinks Boxhead is hitched. He was so taken by this idea that he has penned an ode to the putative Mrs Boxhead...
Dear Mr Boxhead,
Here is a little ditty about your Missus...
"Bitch-Boss woke up in a real bad mood
Din't fix me vitals, 'n thew out all my food
Git me yell'n madder 'n a murder-hornet
Then, I see her cupp'n a photo 'o Ricky like she adorn it.
She be meaner 'n usual when she stare at ma face
Once pertier 'n a titty-dancer, now pinched-up 'n sour
A Ricky-crave'n woman ware'n store-bought lace
We still git our hitchen-rings, dern't mean no nevermind ta her,
She git daggers in 'er heart fer me, 'n I knows she's gonna roam
Bitch-Boss gotta a plane ticket tar Georgia, 'n a can 'o spermicidal foam
I know ware she's go'in, way up 'round seed-tic highway
Wen Ricky's a done wid 'er, I can only pray he'll end 'er back my way,
But, I gotta plan, gonna chain her to the front door,
'n tell 'ol Bitch-Boss, "Now spread 'em gal 'cause you tain't go'in no more,
See, I be studdy'n how Ricky break a woman like you,
Tain't dat I dern't love ya Bitch-Boss, but I tain't gonna be yer fool!!!"
Why dern't ya man-up 'n sing dat to Bitch-Boss, Boxboy - she gonna love ya fer it!!!
Love (in a Manly way),
Ricardovitz
Dear Dickhead,
I know the idle life I lead draws a lot of envy. That's because the way of the Boxman is one of peace, serenity, and inner strength. No boss. No master. Just the sweet smell of freedom, and damp cardboard.
So Ricky if you want to join the good life you know what to do. Grab a cardboard storage device. Poke a few holes in it. And stick it over your head. At the least your sis won't have to look at your ugly mug while you are poking her with your teeny weeny peeny.
As for your poetry, 5.5/10.
Cheers & Beers for the Season!
Boxy.
