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Thursday, August 3, 2006

Big Damn Poetry: Cinco!

For your cultural edification, we offer these tasteful pieces of poesy.


In nineteen hundred and ninety four,
I met a girl who was a whore.
She put out till my dick was sore,
I married her and now I'm poor.

Put out, she did, when we were dating,
All the time, we got to mating,
Now we're wed and I'm still waiting,
I guess I'll turn to masturbating.


Why is it called a blowjob?
It's no job, nor does it blow.
For actually, it's quite fun.
I like them, don't you know.

It should be called a suck-fun,
For that's more accurate.
So come over here and give me one,
'Cause I'm not celibate.

Klondike Bar

What to do for a Klondike bar?
That's an interesting query.
I might propose some feat of strength,
But, as a wuss, I'd grow quite weary.

I think instead I'd simplify,
Hard work, I do abhor
I'd just raid my wife's wallet,
And go buy one at the store.

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