Winners of the Summer Vacation Poetry Competition

Infomaniac gets a cheap thrill in announcing the winners of the Summer Vacation Poetry Competition.

The WINNER of the Infomaniac Summer Vacation Poetry Competition is…



STEVE!



Worship me



Stevey (aka Smunty the Cabin Boy) wins “What’s Your Poo Telling You?” the book that tells you everything you need to know about the shape of your stool.



We’ll be expecting a posting from you as you document the family’s feces.

Congratulations, Smunty!

Here’s Stevey’s winning pooem:

An Ode to a Traveller

As MJ & C toured 'round the
world
An epic yarn of smut
unfurled
In Vegas they fed mammoth
pots
Of dimes and dollars to hungry
slots
Then through a canyon so large, so
grand
They skipped and frolicked hand in
hand
To Jamaica, Barbados as warm sunlight
trickled
Down snorkelling backs to starfishes
tickled
Mexico next to sample
tequila
While old men in sombreros paid 5 bucks to
feel her
Back over the border and to the deep
South
Awaiting was waiting to put six toes in her
mouth
Toejobs and blowjobs in the US all
done
They jetted to Europe, said so long to the
sun
In Dublin they landed, ignored Tazpig and
Smunts
Got pissed on cheap Guinness, those ignorant
cunts
Over to London they sat on Big
Ben
And waited, no knickers, for it to strike
ten
Swam in the Thames, naked, for a
bit
Came out all covered in bogroll and
shit
On to cold Sweden, groomed their pubic
hairs
To improve the taste for all those
AuPairs
Down to Amsterdam the filthy old
sluts
Candlewax on the nipples, candlesticks up their
butts
Overused and abused, ignored me, ignored
you
They went home again, home again for a slow comfortable
screw!



Our RUNNER-UP is…

FIRST NATIONS!

First Nations (a filthy bitch if there ever was one) wins a packet of HandzOff Anti-Masturbatory Gum and a “Wash Away Your Sins Towelette” as pictured here…





Congratulations, FN!

Here’s First Nation’s runner-up pooem:

Mj went to paris france
bought a baguette for her pants
spread some garlic on her flaps
slapped a french cop with her baps
they kicked her out, she left that day
sunning on the beach, UK,
a car drove up her nether way
I"m not the chunnel! she did shout
as a loaded truck drove out
'C' thought it best to take her west
to show her mate off at her best
but ireland proved our mj's match
she WOULD keep saying 'down the hatch!'
passed out cold from all the liquors
she'd forgot to wear her knickers
swilling cocktails in a pub
all the paddy's saw her nub.


FN, please email your mailing address to me. Stevey, I believe I already have your mailing address from that “Dogging in Dorset” brochure that’s making the rounds.


A few of you other bitches outdid yourselves and your pooems deserve recognition.

Let’s start with SID (Stupid Irish Daddy).



SID had a winning pooem on his hands, had he not made reference to my neck. That neck photo was Photoshopped by Piggy and you know it, you filthy Fenian slutbag. Do I make fun of your bald patch? Or your soft, well-manicured girlie hands? Or your huge fat arse? Or that little problem you have in the?

Oh never mind. Let’s just say that despite his “short-cumings” SID really is quite clever. Here’s SID’s offering:

(1)

2007, A summer vacation.

Travel with MJ, who loves domination.

Along with her Tranny, yes "C" with the legs,

And drink from high heels, their batter and dregs.

(2)

A crack of her whip, and your hols would begin,

Your clothes would be torn, as you fall into sin.

Your gimp mask unpacked,a ball for yer mouth,

Great North is too cold, I think they went South.

(3)

Imagine the frights,imagine the stares,

Of MJ and friend, as they showed off their wares.

Croc shoes, unashamed, and lots of vibrators,

Yes, it was South, but North of Equator.

(4)

Now C, it appears, is ever so shy,

With MJ as an escort, I never know why.

Maybe she knows, what we all really fear,

That her urine is used, for Canadian Beer.

(5)

No, Jameson's the drink that gets her real pissed,

And gets her all moist, like a Vancouver mist.

No rain in this place, just hot and all Red,

Which sounds like a night, with MJ in the bed.

(6)

Her holiday break, no it wasn't a trek,

I mean, how can you walk,with such a long neck?

I guess it involved, just some lying in bars,

And whoring about, in some fancy old cars.

(7)

But now she is back,never spending the punts,

Expecting a poem,from all of us cunts,

So where is my prize, you filthy old lay?

Or shall I fuck off, while you just moan... "EH?"



And that Kent, Geoff, can always be counted on for a rhyming good time. See what I mean?:

Around the world in 80 days?
No, MJ did it in a daze.
Wrecked e'en more than New Year's Eve,
Pissed away her annual leave.

The seven wonders of the world?
The contents of her stomach hurled!
O'er the ol' Grand Canyon's edge
And from the Eiffel Tower's ledge.

Pissed in London, Dublin, Nice,
At least we got some fucking peace!
No Infomaniac for weeks,
No cunts or cocks or spread arse cheeks.

As much a holiday for us,
But now we're s'posed to make a fuss!
"We're glad you're back here on the scene,
Our fragrant, wondrous Canuck Queen."



Then there’s Piggy. Yes, the relunctant Piggy gets points just for putting his stumpy wee trotters to paper with this gem:

A haggard old cunt, called MJ,
She travelled to lands far away.
In search of the ultimate cock,
Day, after day, after day.

To Dublin. To Roswell. To 7-11.
To find what would take her to pleasurable heaven.
She found nothing, of course,
Although she does sound a bit hoarse.

With 'C' the sunkissed tranny,
In tow to mop up the muck,
The punters complained it was jammy,
To which MJ replied 'Oh fuck!'.

She's back now, to everyones dismay,
With nothing to show but stretched chops.
We did try to tell her before embarking,
'The foreigners will say you're a crap lay'.

A ruse to enable her to post less,
'The readers will carry this hostess'
Rhyming tales full of woe and humour,
Continuing the wild, speculative rumours.



As for the rest of you, even Garfer, I thank you for participating in Infomaniac’s first ever Poetry Competition.

And a special thank you to IVD who coined the word “pooem.”

Look forward to more competitions (poetic and otherwise) in the near future!