Most all husbands can testify
                            
                    To a wedding they cannot deny.
                            'Cause they know where and when
                            They got married, but then,
                            
                    What exactly escapes them is why.
                            

                                        So here was this fellow from Strensall, 
                                        Whose pecker was shaped like a pencil, 
                                                      Anemic, 'tis true, 
                                                      But an interesting screw, 
                                        Inasmuch as the tip is prehensile. 

The Night Before Christmas



Twas the night before Christmas, 
And all through the house, 
Everybody felt shitty, 
Even the mouse.

With mom at the whore house
And Dad smoking grass,
I'd just settled down 
For a nice piece of ass.

When out on the lawn 
I heard such a clatter,
I sprung from my piece
To see what was the matter.

Then out on the lawn,
I saw a big dick,
And I knew in a moment
That it must be Saint Nick.

He came down the chimney 
Like a bat out of hell,
And I knew right away
That the fucker had fell.

He filled all our stockings 
With pretzels and beer,
And a big rubber dick
For my brother, the queer.

He rose up the chimney
With a thunderous fart; 
The damn son of a bitch
Blew the chimney apart!

He swore and he cursed,
As he rode out of sight,
"Piss on you all,
And have a hell of a night!"

A widow who lived in Rangoon 
               Hung a black-ribboned wreath on her womb, 
                    "To remind me," she said, 
                    "Of my husband who's dead, 
               And of what put him into his tomb." 

As the elevator car left our floor,
Big Sue caught her tits in the door;
She yelled a good deal,
But had they been real,
She'd have yelled considerably more.