It was under the old apple tree 
               That she first showed it to me. 
                    It was ever so hot, 
                    It was shaped like a slot, 
               But it looked like a subway to me. 

               With a twinlke so full in her eye, 
               She craftily mangled my fly. 
                    Out popped a tool 
                    That was long as a rule 
               And she sank to her knees with a sigh. 

               She proceeded to lube up my tool 
               With lots of her natural drool. 
                    My knees gave a shake, 
                    My breath hard to make, 
               And my tool throbbed away like a fool. 

               With a magnificent shake of her head, 
               She threw me down onto the bed. 
                    The apples so round, 
                    The leaves on the ground 
               Made my tool like a sail on the Med. 

               The subway engulfed all my tool. 
               She rocked like she's riding a mule. 
                    My tool gave a jerk, 
                    Let out a hot squrt, 
               And flooded her subway with jooul. 

               As the sun sank slow in the west, 
               She rose up and off of my chest. 
                    The tool flopped out bent 
                    It was terribly spent-- 
               She absorbed all the best of the rest! 

                    For the prick-naming prize of Pinole
                            
                    This year's winner was Daniel O'Dole.
                            He will tell you with bonhommie,
                            "I call mine 'Metonymy,'
                            
                    Because it's a part for the whole."
                            

There was a young fellow from Wark, 
                                        Who, when he screws, has to bark. 
                                                      His wife is a bitch, 
                                                      With a terrible itch, 
                                        So the town never sleeps after dark. 

   Here I sit, I'm at a loss
   trying to shit out taco sauce.
   When it comes, I hope and pray,
   I don't blow my ass away.


  

NIGHT OF DARKNESS

AS I LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW OF THE NIGHT
AND STARE INTO THE DARKNESS.
A WAKING NIGHTMARE OF DELIGHT
ETERNAL BLACKNESS UNTIL SUNRISE.
THE SPIRIT OF DARKNESS FLOWING THROUGH YOU BLOOD
FOREVER LASTING HAPPINESS.
A SINGLE DEATH ONCE A NIGHT
TO QUENCH THE THIRST OF THE ILVING DEAD.
NOT EVEN A CORPSE LEFT TO ROT
THEY VANISH FROM THE DARK PARKING LOT.


Sent by PHILIP