I POKE SMOT! sex. cult. comedy.
Sex. Cult. Comedy. Meaning there’s sex, cults, culture, and comedy. And more sex!

The War on Drugs is filled with rapists, racists, and soultheives, and that makes me want to scream. So I’m screaming!

Hey, we’re blowin whistles here. If you thought A Clockwork Orange was crazy, wait till you see what happens after the cure!
I POKE SMOT! sex. cult. comedy.
"Dazzle someone."
Do it.
I Poke Smot! "Moody Foodies Get the Snooties"

What ?

Off to see the wizard …
"You don’t have to whip me. But you better wit me."
Think about it.
I Poke Smot 15 Muncie
"I know you’re dead, Mr. Williams,"

and I don’t know about living forever, but I’ll still say RIP.

"Goodbye Mrs. Doubtfire, though I never knew you at all

you taught me to paint my face and tuck my balls

to be with the ones I love.”


O Captain! My Captain!


O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
                         But O heart! heart! heart!
                            O the bleeding drops of red,
                               Where on the deck my Captain lies,
                                  Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
                         Here Captain! dear father!
                            The arm beneath your head!
                               It is some dream that on the deck,
                                 You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
                         Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
                            But I with mournful tread,
                               Walk the deck my Captain lies,
                                  Fallen cold and dead.