Tag Archives: Relationships

Baboon Banter On Bestiality


Baboon Bestiality

Baboon Bestiality

The Baboon swears on his mountain of slimy bananas that it loves all kinds of filthy copulations. And that is why the Baboon is in awe of the unique ability of you base but creative creatures to fuck, suck, lick or sexualize anybody and anything.

What sours this strawberry pie is how some groups of prude humans reject and are disgusted by their species’ diverse sexualities.

So, when the Baboon encounters people who actually embrace these differences and work towards making them acceptable, he greatly respects them.

In conversation with such a person, the Baboon encountered a difference of opinion.

The human was a queer female — an LGBTQ-feminist activist.

The Baboon had asked a question about bestiality. She said one of the things about sexual liberty was consent. And since animals don’t speak human languages (except for the Baboon) they really can’t communicate consent.

So, that was why she did not support bestiality.

The Baboon of course disagreed, not only because he can ramble whole articles and not just consent, but also, because animals communicate regularly with humans.

The Baboon regards it a little naive to think that humans can train dogs to sit, fetch or sniff out cocaine from the pockets of sneaky smugglers, and still consider dogs can’t communicate something as basic as a desire for sex?

Sex is one of the three basic desires, along with hunger and thirst.

Every species has some way to communicate the desire to have sex, just like the desire to eat or drink.

If human pet owners can be told by their pets that they are hungry or thirsty, the animals are very well capable to convey they are horny (take the Baboon’s word for it).

But the Baboon also thinks that this may not be so simple.

There maybe (are) cases where the animals are really raped. And it is not such a gobble-dung idea to suppose in many instances that these animals are not able to communicate this to a third person.

Thus, the Baboon thinks bestiality is al right when done with consent.

But the Baboon will not encourage (nor discourage) this as it becomes difficult to differentiate between sex-with-consent and barbaric rape, for the human society (which is still really retarded as compared to the Baboons’, I must say).

End of Baboon Banter.

Now go fuck that pie!

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The Room Is Not Empty, It’s You


Empty: It’s You

Is it the room that is empty
Or is it you
Who can be hidden
By a box of five walls
And a granite floor
And negate
Your body
Your Breath
Your existence
Your soul?

Stop blaming the world for its blindness
When you yourself have gouged your eyes out.

See.
Hear.
Touch.
Smell.
Taste.

Exist.

— X —
If you liked it, the baboon shall very well want your comments below.
Want some doughnuts?
Lobsters!
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Filthy Delhi Lover


Do me in the doggy perv,
Take me in your lap and surf,
Shit’s the lube there is to fuck
Your Filthy Delhi Lover.

Hussain will paint us nude, my love.
With every thrust with every shove,
We climb up their towers and call;
Let the cameras cover.

Let the celebrities clear the way,
When legends walk they shall sway.
Bow before us ye bitches
You slaves want us as rulers.

Quote me in the Time, I say.
Hear me talk about that May.
When i groped you in the train, that day,
Your kick made me cower.

But thank god you are still potent, douche.
I like it when you fill my pouch.
Your ass is not forgiven still
You ask before you savour.

Cheap Bra,
Easy Rip.
Wet Cunt,
Take a Sip.
Take me in,
Don’t make me dig.

My Filthy Delhi Lover

You’re hard
Let me help.
On Top
Ill make you yelp.
Lie down
And you shall delve.

My Filthy Delhi Lover

My staff
But your crown.
I am your slave
Wipe off that frown.
You are the Queen
When I am down.

My Filthy Delhi Lover

There are some nights when you don’t sleep,
My poet, I shall let you weep.
Meet in me Hauz Khas you creep.
Ill show you how its done.

Ill ask before I rape you,
Bring some ropes, take the cue.
The stars shall know we were there,
We shall leave our mark.

Delete that clip, you will be slayed
I’ll break your apple if it will be played.
That MMS is useless son,
Stars perform live.

Take me for a Royce Ride
We’ll bitch about Joyce with pride.
Your piss on Ulysses my Aphrodite
Makes me wanna crash.

Lets go to some art gallery,
Lets make out amongst snobbery.
They’ll call our piece performance art
And sell it for a million.

Or we shall buy a red light,
Put it up, make the city bright.
We burn the khadi, win their game,
Parliament is now planetarium.

We shall orgasm seeing the Mars
Claw my butt, leave your scars.
Plan a party with the chamars
And dance with the hijras.

Its sexy when you talk society,
Justice shall be your piety.
Its nice when you worship none,
But love and freedom.

This is how you make porn,
You are wet, your mind is warm.
Dream me up when I am gone
Your Filthy Delhi Lover.

–X–
*CAUTION*
The names of certain communities, which are used as abuses, are not used in the same sense.
The poet doesn’t intend to hurt anybody’s sentiment. If your interpretation of this poem hurts your feelings, then you shall solve it yourself.
This is a dialogue, not a monologue. Meaning there are two speakers.
The poet doesn’t condone rape. The ‘rape’ used in this poem shouldn’t be taken in the literal sense.

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