The Daily Catch
She came to the Halloween party
in black fishnet
and someone asked what she was
and she said: a fisherman’s net.
Smells like you caught something,
I said.
Not very nice, I know.
It just came out.
Like a nasty drunk.
She kept staring at me
for the rest of the evening.
Trying to murder me with her glare.
I knew that was what she was doing.
Then I didn’t feel so bad
about my insult.
I mean, out of all known proportion,
the crazy bitch was trying to kill me.
Horror Sleaze Trash 