Today's poems [11.14.07]

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Holy mother full of grace,

Bless my boyfriends sexy face,

keep him from the girls I hate,

For we were meant to be soul mates,


Sent by L&S

There was a young rascal named James, 
            Who liked to play terrible games, 
                He lit up the front 
                Of his Grandmother's cunt 
            And laughed as she pissed through the flames! 

               The Rajah of Afghanistan 
               Imported a Birmingham can, 
                    Which he set as a throne 
                    On a great Buddha stone--- 
               But he crapped out-of-doors like a man. 

There were three ladies of Huxham, 
And whenever we meets 'em we fucks 'em, 
And when that game grows stale 
We sits on a rail, 
And pulls out our pricks and they sucks 'em. 

By a cozy peat fire in O'Dell, 
               Sat a Scot and a Mick, I hear tell. 
                    "I'm full," cried O'Brien. 
                    Said McLoed,"Well, I'm buyin'." 
               Sure and now, that's a cold day in hell. 

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