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Today's poems[12.19.01]
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A patrician young fellow named Lear
Used to wash off his bollocks with beer.
Said he, "By the gods,
This is good for the cods---
It will lengthen my fucking career.
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There once was a writer named Twain
Who had a peculiar stain
Surrounding the head
Of his prick: it was red,
And was said to wash off in the rain.
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There was a young man from Jodhpur
Who found he could easily cure
His dread diabetes
By eating a fetus
Served up in a sauce of manure.
Send this poem to a friend 3 A prim young fellatrix named Prue
Said, "There's one thing a nice girl won't do.
You may not touch my rear end,
But if my up-here end
Appeals, there's a hole in that too."
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There was a young fellow named Bream
Who never had dreamt a wet dream,
For when lacking a whore
He'd just bore out the core
Of an apple an fuck it through cream.
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