>>> The Lady's Shave
By staff writer NG Hatfield
May 3, 2007

This week, I put my poetry pants on (they’re tight and trendy) because I have finals. I’ll be back to write “The History of Sex, Part II” next week.

I hope you enjoy!

Courtowulf, Part I

Introduction
(A brief history of Pointsincase.com)

O’er the internet, amongst the porn,
a humorous site of web twas born.
The fort, a mixture of text and mire,
Twas built by Courtowulf and his faithful squire.
This page’s name was that of Amir
but where this man went isn’t so clear.
Some said he went off to CollegeHumor.
If that’s the case, hope he contracts a tumor.

As for now, the fort has become a sausage city:
Filled with the cock, but no twat, no tittie.
Only two wenches inhabit this internet place:
One of much beauty, one a butterface.

With this problem came such repression!
(Twas no outlet for sexual aggression!)
So the one of beauty twas fiercely killed,
(But twas not the pure blood a virgin spilled.)

We, as people of high moral stature,
Must put this horse of mystery to pasture!
The rhyme and meter I surely must employ
So sit on your asses and freely enjoy!

The Death of Ali Wisch

(Reading the following with no sense of fun
and bitching at me will give grip to a gun.
Stay out of the comment box, don’t click the link,
Even if I’m crazy, you’re not my shrink.)

Courtowulf and his noblest of steed
DeGraafis were walking on a summer’s eve.
“Ho!” at the horse the baron did loudly shout
For the forest smelled oddly of uncooked trout.

“What is this stink?” the baron then asked
“Surely a skank hast by us passed!”
DeGraafis filled the air with illustrious nods
but on his mind was not smells, but football odds.

“Horse! Answer me now you heathen of heathens,
Follow the smell or be severely beaten!”
And with that command the horse did buck
Sending Courtowulf to the ground with a giant “Fuck!”

The steed took off, running to the land of Reno,
To put his last dollar on the game they call Keno.
(Some say this horse put in his hair braids,
others say it’s more likely he simply got AIDS.)

So alone in the dark forest, Courtowulf did pace,
and in the trees on high, Nymphs showed face.

All whores of the forest came out with a clang,
And Courtowulf’s nipples summarily sprang.
“Oh dear baron” Simonne Cullen said with a shout
“May I see through your khakis a very large sprout?!”
She descended to the forest’s floor to the quick,
Got on her knees and pulled out his dick.
His mind began to nudge him, his penis to pout
until he realized his own oral power was under Cullen’s penis-sucking clout.

Phelan and Curtiss did also suck at the penis
but argued more over which ball was the cleanest.

It was a sight! A most sight of unseemliness:
the Nymph Allison Parks spit up semen like volcanoes on Venus.
Rebello, with his fork even came down to please
And Opp (yes Opp!) with his psoriasis and case of scabies.

The forest then quieted as Courtowulf fucked his last,
Cumming on Opps face and Rebello’s scrawny ass.
Courtowulf sat on a stump and received favor all that day,
then went home to his lover Mikey who was slaving away
So the baron then began in his place to craft
an article on trendy instant messenger laugh.


“Dear Husband,” said Mikey, “Why are your coattails all gray?”
Courtowulf said, “Tis the tartar sauce from my fish fillet”

Courtowulf’s typing was soon halted,
as his editing eye to his crotch was then vaulted.
“My eyes! My skin has all malted!
“The wounds in my pecker feel as if they were salted!”

Mikey did not believe any of this crap,
He put on his pants, then he put on his cap.
He put on his beard, took a picture of him nude
and put on dark sunglasses and prepared to be rude.

This night his husband smell no more of fish:
Mikey brought a knife to the neighbor’s; the house of Ali Wisch.
And after the nabbing, after the stabbing,
Mikey poured rubbing alcohol on Court’s penis of crabbing.

After the funeral, the bloggers did cry,
though Courtowolf’s clan did not know why
a beautiful slut like Ali had to die
and Courtwolf’s dick looked like pecan pie.

So, Court stood up, said to his clan,
“I didn’t do nothing wrong, but I can,
Now, I’ve got some bad shits, man.
And at least you’re all not Emmanuel Witzman.”

Coming soon (or eventually), “Courtowulf Part II: Whatever Happened to Witzman?

See new Points in Case posts via Twitter or Facebook.

Take comedy writing classes at The Second City - 10% off with code PIC.