Today's poems [4.16.07]

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                    The Ballad of the Bobbit Hillbillies
                                      
               (Sing to the tune of The Beverly Hillbillies)
     
   
Here's a little story of a man named John
a poor ex-marine (with a little fraction gone).
It seems one night after gettin' with the wife.
She lopped of his schlong with the swipe of a knife.
        (Penis that is)
        (Rodeoed. Fillet-io-ed)

Well the next thing you know there's a Ginsu by his side,
and Lorena's in the car takin Willie for a ride.
She soon got tired of her purple-headed friend,
so she tossed him out the window as she rounded out a bend.
        (Curve that is)
        (Pricker shrubs, wheel hubs)

She went to the cops and confessed to the attack,
and they called out the hounds just to get his weenie back.
They sniffed and they barked, then they pointed "over there"
To John Wayne's Henry that was wavin' in the air.
        (Found that is)
        (By a fence, evidence)

Now peter and John couldn't stay apart too long,
So a dick-doc said "Hey! I can fix your dong."
"A needle and a thread's just the thing you're gonna need."
Then the world held it's breath 'till they heard that Johnny peed.
        (Wizzed that is)
        (Stitched seam, straight stream)

Well he healed and he hardened, and he took his case to court,
With a cock-eyed lawyer (since his assets came up short)
They cleared her of assault and acquitted him of rape,
And his pecker was the only one they didn't show on tape!
        (Video that is)
        (Unexposed, case closed)
  

                    Once was a tattooist named Clarke
                            
                    Whose urge to render was stark.
                            He put roses on hogs
                            and bare-shaven dogs
                            
                    And nudes on drunks in the park.
                            

When I was young, I had no sense, 
Stuck my dick in an electric fence. 
It curled my hairs, it tickled my balls, 
It made me crap my overalls.

There was a young girl named Regina
Who called in a water diviner
To play a slick trick
With his prick as a stick
To help locate her vagina. 

Lewinsky and Clinton have shown
   what Kaczynski must surely have known:
   that an intern is better
   than a bomb in a letter
   given the choice to be blown.


  

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