Sunday, September 30, 2012

Three sisters lick your caramel-tipped Drumstick® by: Ryder Collins

Even if unseen, three sisters know they rule. Three sisters like to remain unseen because they are all titties. Three sisters have the biggest titties ever. We are talking ginormous nuclear warhead titties here.

Three sisters’ tittiess make everyone stop and stare. Everyone. Even Inanna before Gilgamesh. Even Cleopatra before the asp. Even Nero before the fiddle. Even Buddha before the lotus. Even Christ before the cross. Even Napoleon before Russia. Even Haile Selassie before the Battle of Anchem.

Even Van Gogh before the razor and Duchamp before the toilet. Even Sylvia Plath before the oven. Even JFK and Lee Harvey Oswald. Even the bullet that killed JFK and ricocheted. It ricocheted all sporadic because of the titties. The bullet stopped and stared for a full three seconds then zigzagged all over the fucking place to make up for the stoppingshort, for reals.

& after that is when the sisters decided to move to a small town. They didn’t want to be a part of or responsible or even somewhere near to the unnecessary deaths they saw coming. Malcolm X. Robert Kennedy. Martin Luther King. MOVE in Philadelphia. Those are just a small part of the list they keep hidden in their big big bras…

Three sisters moved Deep South because Deep South would incognito they thought. But they moved in to their three bedroom ranch house to find it was the same in the small town Deep South. The movers dropped boxes, broke lamps and cauldrons and bedframes because of the big big titties. Three sisters took their dogs for a walk and three sisters’ titties made everyone stop and stare. Even the mayor. Even sports players, even church wives, even bullychildren beating up the gays, even rabid squirrels, even wounded deer, even pursuing dogs, even scurrying palmettos.

Three sisters then disturbed College Bowls and baptisms, graduations and weddings and infidelities and births and deaths and homophobia. So, therefore, three sisters, even though three sisters liked fucking with the homophobias (because, really, they thought, who cares? and if they could find anyone who would love them beyond their hugeass titties they def wouldn’t care man or woman), three sisters tried even harder to remain unseen.

Even if unseen, they know they are a force. You do not fuck with three sisters.


Three sisters do not pull no Macbeth shit. Three sisters do not hurly-burly and three sisters do not pilotthumb and three sisters do not chestnut and three sisters do not hail and vanish and three sisters do not.

Three sisters have one computer and three sisters fight over Facebook. Three sisters have one computer and forecast the weather.

Three sisters set that weather shit up.

Three sisters go to the Kroger’s and the aisles clear for them. The foodstuffs they want fly into their grocery cart and the checkers always small talk them, Did you find everything you needed? How are you today? Going to the game?

Three sisters nod and bob like bobble heads.
The checker always scans their items and always does not know the veggies they buy, Is this a rutabaga?
Three sisters bobblehead.
Is this collard greens?
No, kale.
Is this cabbage?
No, blind-worm’s sting.

Is this cantaloupe?
No, it’s eye of newt.
What is this?
It’s your wang, if you don’t shut the fuck up.
That is the feisty sister, but they are all feisty so how can you tell the difference between them, especially when all you can see is their big big titties.

Centuries ago, three sisters gave up on saying my face is up here.
& it is white asparagus that is in the plastic bag that the checker now thinks is his wang.
& that is even funnier cos later after the three sisters leave he will not remember that he was all worried his wang was in a bag. So worried he starts thrusting his pelvis against the conveyor belt side.
One sister tskstks, one mews, & one is oblivious.
It is the mewing that makes the checker drop the plastic bag of asparagus and then three sisters titter big. Titter titter their titties are big big big yet they now move unseen through the small town because they have been practicing for centuries how to move unseen and they now use that moving unseen skill sometimes when they feel like it and they have been practicing for centuries spells to make them unseen and they have been alive for centuries so they should be able to do whatever they set their fucking minds to since they have set their minds against mortality and won so far it seems, and they move unseen down the cereal aisle and down the frozen foods and past the ladies in blue and orange who can only talk about past glories about sororities and now those ladies are in their forties and are unbelievably sad inside and only acknowledge their sadness when they hit that hidden caramel in a frozen ice cream drumstick

& then they do not know why they want to cry and so they try not to cry and they try not to cry too because that’ll mess up their Estee Lauder mascara even though everyone, even the big big titties sisters, even the three sisters, especially the sagacious three sisters, knows the only mascara you needs is the cheapass Maybelline pink tube, yo.

Three sisters never say yo.

Three sisters are not always unseen cos it is tiring this unseen thing so they allow themselves to be seen by the checkers & the people in the aisles who are crying inside and need to get out their way.

Those are the bitches that don’t get out the way cos all they can think of is that deepdeep thing inside that they cannot think about. Most other people get out three sisters’ way & do not see them at all. It is the sad stuck in the

who see them and sometimes see beyond the big titties but they cannot acknowledge any of it cos if they acknowledged what the titties represented to them it would be all over, yo.

Peoples in the aisles get out their way because three sisters roll down the aisles singing, Move, get out the way, get out the way, BITCH, get out the way.

Three sisters like the hip hop.

Three sisters like musicals.

Three sisters like 80s New Wave.

One of three sisters even likes Morrissey.

Ludacris’ “Move, Bitch” is their spell because they have the magic and the big big titties and they are the force.

They are a force, yo.

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