A Redneck's Ode to Valentines Day! Kudzu is green, my dog's name is Blue And I'm so lucky to have a sweet thang like you. Yore hair is like cornsilk A-flapping in the breeze. Softer than Blue's And without all them fleas. You move like the bass, Which excite me in May. You ain't got no scales But I luv you anyway. You're as graceful as okry Jist a-dancin' in the pan. Yo're as fragrant as SunDrop Right out of the can. You have all yore teeth, For which I am proud; I hold my head high When we're in a crowd. On special occasions, When you shave yore armpits, Well, I'm in hawg heaven, I'm plumb outta wits. And speakin' of wits, You've got plenty fer shore. 'Cuz you married me Back in '74. Still them fellers at work They all want to know, What I did to deserve Such a purty, young doe. Like a good roll of duct tape Yo're there fer yore man, To patch up life's troubles And stick 'em in the can. Yo're as strong as a four-wheeler Racin' through the mud, Yet fragile as that sanger Named Naomi Judd. When you hold me real tight Like a padded gunrack, My life is complete; Ain't nuttin' I lack. Yore complexion, it's perfection, Like the best vinyl sidin'. Despite all the years, Yore age, it keeps hidin'. And when you get old Like a '67 Chevy, Won't put you on blocks And let grass grow up heavy. Me 'n' you's like a Moon Pie With a RC cold drank, We go together Like a skunk goes with stank. Some men, they buy chocolate For Valentine's Day; They git it at Wal-Mart, It's romantic that way. Some men git roses On that special day From the cooler at Kroger. "That's impressive," I say. Some men buy fine diamonds From a flea market booth. "Diamonds are forever," They explain, suave and couth. But for this man, honey, These will not do. For you are too special, You sweet thang you. I got you a gift, Without taste nor odor, Better than diamonds it's a new trollin' motor.
A Dutchman who dwelt in Dundee Walked into a grocer's named Lee. He said "If you blease, Haff you any prick cheese?" Said the grocer, "I'll skin back and see."
Dr. Seuss Meets Fornigate -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- I am Starr. Starr I are. I'm a brilliant barri-star. I'm here to ask, as you'll soon see, Did you grope Miss Lew-in-sky? Did you grope her in your house? Did you grope beneath her blouse? Did she give you gifts and ties? Were you spied by prying eyes? I did not do that here or there! I did not do that anywhere! I did not do that in a chair! I went not near her giant hair! I did not join -- even for fun, The Mile High Club in Air Force One, So stow your feathers and your tar, I did not do her Starr you are! Did you smile? Did you Flirt? Did you peek beneath her skirt? And did you tell the girl to lie, When called upon to testify? That is it; you've gone too far! I do not like you Starr you are! I will not answer any more! In fact, I think I'll start a war! The public's easy to distract, When bombs are falling on Iraq!
De Ebonics Crimmus Poem Wuz de nite befo Crimmus; And all ower da hood; ereybody wuz' sleepin'; Dey wuz sleepin' good. We hunged up our stockings; An hoped like de' heck; That old Santa Clause; Be bringin' our check. All o'de fambily; Wuz layin in de beds; While Ripple and Thunderbird; Danced through dey heads. I passed out inna' flo; Right nex to my Maw; When I heard sech a fuss; I looked out thru de bars; What covered my doe; 'spectin' de sheriff; Wif a warrent fo sho. And what did I see; I said, "Lawd look at dat!!" Ther' wuz a huge watermellon; Pulled by giant warf rats!! Now ober all de years; Santa Clause, he be white; But looks liken us bros; Gets a black Sanna dis nite. Faster dan a Po'lees car; My home boy he came; He whupped on dem warf rats; An' called dem by name! On Leroy, on 'Lonzo ; And on Willie Lee; On Saphire, on Chenequa; Dey wuz a site to see!! As he landed dat watta' mellon; Out der in da skreet; I knowed it was fo' sho'; Da damndest site I ebber did see. He didn't go down no chimbley; He picked da' lock on my doe; An' I sez to myself; "Shit!! He done dis befoe!!!" He had dis big bag; Full of prezents I 'xpect; Wid Air Jordans and fake gold; To wear roun' my neck. But he left no good prezents; Jus started stealing my shit; Got my drugs, got my guns, Even got my burglar's kit!! Wit my stuff in de bag; Out da window he flewed; I woudda' tried to catched him; But he stoled my 'nife too!! He jumped on dat wadda' mellon; An' whipped out a switch; He wuz gone in a seccon'; Dat son of a bitch!! Next year I be hopin': Anutha Sanna we git; Cuz' diz here Sanna Clause; Jus' ain't werf a shit!!!
The typists in Wheesley and Beesley All fornicate keenly and eas'ly, In this pleasant way They add to their pay Which in Wheesley and Beesley is measly
