Putting the Cock Back in Cocktail: It Never Entered My Mind
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Here’s the latest in our Putting-the-Cock-Back-in-Cocktail series.
A special thank you to Sarah, who turned me onto this beautiful Miles Davis song.Thank you for watching.
And to all the graduates of 2017:
20 Responses and Counting...
From the suburbanite (contemptibly dull and ordinary) who likes more Collins and less Tom. But you should have known you’d always be our beast of burdens.
Ray,
I loved it. It’s revealing in a way that your other videos are not. (Though don’t get me wrong. I love snark.) The poem fits perfectly with the music, and the dreary, cock-sucking weather of springtime. Finally, some chink in the armor. The poem reminds me of something Billy Collins might write. He uses double entendre a lot. But your poems is more bold. The line about serving your weight in martinis and being “consumed” by juniper was so beautiful.
mmm.
But your Ruby Soho is never so-so.
It Never Entered My Mind
You know it never entered my mind that your Pink Pussycat was not quite pink enough.
It never entered my mind when I served you the Faster Pussycat that all you really wanted was for me to slow’er down.
It never entered my mind that your Tom Collins would have too much Tom and not enough Collins.
It never once entered my mind that your Fuzzy Naval stunk.
It never entered my mind that you’d think your Cosmopolitan too unsophisticated.
It never entered my mind that your Moscow Mule might kick too hard, or that your Donkey Dick would prove too stiff.
It never entered my mind that these suburbanites with their fucking Mojitos would one day reduce me to tears.
It never entered my mind that your Pisco Sour was too sweet, or that my Blowjob left such a bad taste in your mouth.
It never entered my mind that one day I would make my weight in martinis, and that the juniper juice would consume me rather than the other way around.
It never entered my mind that your Sex on the Beach would give you a Sandy Vagina, or that you’d be so fond of Wisecracks.
It never entered my mind that you liked Piña Colada.
It never entered my mind that you’d think my buying your Cape Cod just a little bit fishy.
It never entered my mind that your Long Island Tea was meant for me. Thank you.
It never entered my mind that your Virgin Daiquiri was too frigid, or that your Dirty Shirley would end up being too hardcore – even for you.
It never entered my mind that your Old Fashioned was too nouveau.
It never entered my mind that serving you that one last Singapore would get my ass in a Sling.
It never entered my mind that one day that part of my uniform would be tattoos, a beard, mustache.
And it never entered my mind to neglect the art of personality, and to instead hide behind my fifty-dollar bar spoons.
It never entered my mind that one day bartending would be so hip, so fucking cool.
It never entered my mind that you preferred your Screaming Orgasms straight up.
It never entered my mind that your Sea Breeze was too stiff.
God damn it, it never entered my mind that in the end that everything might not all be pink on the inside.
It never entered my mind that your Aviation would send you all the way into the stratosphere, Baby.
It never entered my mind that your Bloody Mary and your Bloody Lucy were for your tastes far too juicy, or that your Jim Rickey would lead to that one great big hickey.
It never ever entered my mind this whole time that your beast of burden was me.
It never entered my mind.
Thank you very much indeed.
[Update: plural on coladas also added ‘And’ to next to last line. I just wanted to be able to read this literary work.]
It Never Entered My Mind
You know it never entered my mind that your Pink Pussycat was not quite pink enough.
It never entered my mind when I served you the Faster Pussycat that all you really wanted was for me to slow’er down.
It never entered my mind that your Tom Collins would have too much Tom and not enough Collins.
It never once entered my mind that your Fuzzy Naval stunk.
It never entered my mind that you’d think your Cosmopolitan too unsophisticated.
It never entered my mind that your Moscow Mule might kick too hard, or that your Donkey Dick would prove too stiff.
It never entered my mind that these suburbanites with their fucking Mojitos would one day reduce me to tears.
It never entered my mind that your Pisco Sour was too sweet, or that my Blowjob left such a bad taste in your mouth.
It never entered my mind that one day I would make my weight in martinis, and that the juniper juice would consume me rather than the other way around.
It never entered my mind that your Sex on the Beach would give you a Sandy Vagina, or that you’d be so fond of Wisecracks.
It never entered my mind that you liked Piña Coladas.
It never entered my mind that you’d think my buying your Cape Cod just a little bit fishy.
It never entered my mind that your Long Island Tea was meant for me. Thank you.
It never entered my mind that your Virgin Daiquiri was too frigid, or that your Dirty Shirley would end up being too hardcore – even for you.
It never entered my mind that your Old Fashioned was too nouveau.
It never entered my mind that serving you that one last Singapore would get my ass in a Sling.
It never entered my mind that one day that part of my uniform would be tattoos, a beard, mustache.
And it never entered my mind to neglect the art of personality, and to instead hide behind my fifty-dollar bar spoons.
It never entered my mind that one day bartending would be so hip, so fuckin’ cool.
It never entered my mind that you preferred your Screaming Orgasms straight up.
It never entered my mind that your Sea Breeze was too stiff.
God damn it, it never entered my mind that in the end that everything might not all be pink on the inside.
It never entered my mind that your Aviation would send you all the way into the stratosphere, Baby.
It never entered my mind that your Bloody Mary and your Bloody Lucy were for your tastes far too juicy, or that your Jim Rickey would lead to that one great big hickey.
And it never ever entered my mind this whole time that your beast of burden was me.
It never entered my mind.
Magnificent poetry! Can’t get enough.
fuzzy butthole.
Man, what is with you assholes?
I’m guessing the thought of how someone would like a screaming orgasm has entered your mind quite often. 🙂
Was this the poem you wrote for National Dick Joke Month? I seem to recognize it. There’s like 7 dick jokes in it, a Baytown record. Summertime’s coming and I was hoping for something with fruit.
Curiously enough, Zoby, I had you in mind when I was writing all those dick jokes.
Sandy: How dare you!
This is X-rated fire. Will watch again.
Yes, please! Let’s do it again. (And again.)
Thank you for dropping by.
I keep coming back for more. However, your bark is bigger than your bite, Ray.
My bark bigger than my bite? Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia — how dare you! I’ll bite your head off, man.
Hear to eat more pineapple … less bad taste in her mouth, perhaps?
Yes, indeed!