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Today's poems [6.20.05]

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There was a young lady named Rose 
                              Who'd occasionally straddle a hose, 
                                        And parade about squirting 
                                        And spouting and spurting, 
                              Pretending she pissed like her beaux 

                              She was seen by her cousin named Anne, 
                              Who improved the original plan. 
                                        She said, "My dear Rose, 
                                        In this lowly old hose 
                              Are all the best parts of a man." 

                              So, avoiding the crude and sadistic, 
                              She frigged in a manner artistic: 
                                        At the height of her pleasure 
                                        She turned up the pressure, 
                              And cried, "Ain't it grand and realistic!" 

                              They soon told the Duchess of Fyfe, 
                              And her crony, the alderman's wife; 
                                        And they found it so pleasing, 
                                        And tickling and teasing 
                              That they washed men right out of their life. 

                              It was tried by the great Mrs. Biddle, 
                              And she said to her husband, "Go fiddle! 
                                        Here's double the fun, 
                                        And you get three in one--- 
                              A ducking, a douche, and a diddle." 

                              It was tried by the dancer, Di Basle, 
                              Whose cunt was just made for a nozzle. 
                                        She said, "I admit 
                                        It's an elegant fit, 
                              But of course it won't do for the arse 'ole." 

                              It was tried by the Duchess of Porter, 
                              And passed on by her to her daughter, 
                                        Who said, "With a leman 
                                        You're fearful of semen, 
                              But a fuck's as effective with water." 

                              Thus writes Lady Vanderbilt-Horsett, 
                              Who invented the Lonely-Maid Corset: 
                                        "I thought all vicarious 
                                        Fucking precarious. 
                              I was wrong. It's a whiz. I endorse it. 

                              Soon in Paris, on the Boulevard Salique, 
                              You sould purchase (complet avec talic, 
                                        Pour soixante francs cinq) 
                                        A short hose and a tank, 
                              And they call it Le Fuckeur Hydraulique. 

1.   Vote:    Category: Situations Send this poem to a friend




               There was a young man of St. Giles 
               Who'd walked thousands and thousands of miles, 
                    From the Cape of Good Hope, 
                    Just to bugger the Pope, 
               But he couldn't---the pontiff had piles. 

2.   Vote:    Category: Travel Send this poem to a friend




There was a young student of Yale 
                                        Who was getting his first piece of tail. 
                                                      He shoved in his pole, 
                                                      But in the wrong hole, 
                                        And a voice from beneath yelled: "No sale!" 

3.   Vote:    Category: School and College Send this poem to a friend




There was a young fellow named Paul
                            
                    Who confessed, "I have only one ball.
                            But the size of my prick
                            Is God's dirtiest trick,
                            
                    For my girls always ask, 'Is that all?'"
                            


4.   Vote:    Category: Send this poem to a friend




A young girl who was no good at tennis
But at swimming was really a menace
Took pains to explain,
"It depends how to train;
I was a streetwalker in Venice."



5.   Vote:    Category: Women Send this poem to a friend



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