An ode to the hole
That never heals.
The more you touch it
The better it feels.
You can rub it
And scrub it
And brush it like hell,
But you will never get rid
Of that fucking fish smell.

(Author Unknown)

The wife of young Richard of Limerick 
               Complained to her hesband, "My quim, Rick, 
                    Still grows in diameter 
                    Each time that you ram at her; 
               How can your poor tool stay so slim, Rick?" 

Part 1 of 12
   
                    There was a young fellow from Sparta,
                            
                    A really magnificent farter,
                            On the strength of one bean
                            He'd fart God Save the Queen,
                            
                    And Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.
                            

                    There was a young man named Cattell
                            
                    Who knew psychophysics so well,
                            That each time he shit
                            He'd stop, measure it---
                            
                    It's length, and it's breadth, and it's smell.
                            

To his bride said the lynx-eyed detective:
'Can it be that my eyesight's defective?
Has your east tit the least bit
The best of the west tit?
Or is it a trick of perspective?'