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Array
(
[sid] => 123679
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Cellophane bags
[time] => 2006-07-25 13:07:14
[hometext] => This is a fictional poem
[bodytext] => When I was a child, I ordered action figures through the mail. They sent them in cellophane bags and I always caught hell. I removed the action figures and threw away the bags. Instead of being trusted, I was constantly nagged. Mom found some of the cellophane bags when she looked in the trash. Dad went through my things because he thought I had drugs stashed. They checked my body for needle marks, they even looked between my toes. I told them that I didn't take drugs but they wouldn't let it go. Dad said that I had to be spanked. He said it would hurt now but one day he'd be thanked. He put me over his knee and slapped my rear. I had a porcupine in my pants and it drove Dad to tears. My parents constantly hounded me during my youth. They never believed me even though I was telling the truth. During my prom, I was grounded instead of spanked. Dad couldn't go to work for days because of the sugar I poured in his gas tank. When my parents found my flea powder, they thought it was cocaine. They handcuffed me to the bed and poured it down the drain. They still think I'm a drug user even though I work for the DEA. They won't believe me no matter what I say. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 147 [topic] => 7 [informant] => randyjohnson [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
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