A deep-throated virgin named Netty
Was sucking a cock on the jetty.
She said, "It tastes nice,
Much better than rice,
Though not quite as good as spaghetti."

Owed to the Spelling Checker



I have a spelling checker
It came with my PC
It plane lee marks four my revue
Miss steaks aye can knot sea.

Eye ran this poem threw it,
Your sure reel glad two no.
Its vary polished in it's weigh
My checker tolled me sew.

A checker is a bless sing,
It freeze yew lodes of thyme.
It helps me right awl stiles two reed,
And aides me when aye rime.

Each frays come posed up on my screen
Eye trussed too bee a joule
The checker pour o'er every word
To cheque sum spelling rule.

Be fore a veiling checkers
Hour spelling mite decline,
And if were lacks or have a laps,
We wood be maid to wine.

Butt now bee cause my spelling
Is checked with such grate flare,
Their are know faults with in my cite,
Of non eye am a wear.

Now spelling does knot phase me,
It does knot bring a tier.
My pay purrs awl due glad den
With wrapped words fare as hear.

To rite with care is quite a feet
Of witch won should be proud.
And wee mussed dew the best wee can,
Sew flaws are knot aloud.

Sow ewe can sea why aye dew prays
Such soft ware four pea seas.
And why I brake in two averse
By righting want too pleas.

There was a young lady of Mott
Who inserted a fly up her twat
And pretended the buzz
Was not what it was,
But something she knew it was not. 

               Any whore whose door sports a red light 
               Knows a prick when she sees one, all right. 
                    She can tell by a glance 
                    At the drape of men's pants 
               If they're worth taking on for the night. 

The youth who frequent picture palaces
Have no use for psychoanalysis,
And although Dr Freud
Is distinctly annoyed,
They cling to their long-standing fallacies.