Today's poems [11.14.08]
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The ancient orthographer, Chisholm.
Caused a lexicographical schism
When he asked to know whether
"Twere known which was better
To use "g" or "j" to spell "jism."
If the river was made of whiskey,
And I a diving duck,
I'd swim down to the bottom,
And drink myself back up.
Sent by Amy
Why, oh why, does this happen to me?
How did I end up stuck in this tree?
The ground down below looks so far away,
That if I would fall it would take me all day
To hit the ground, with a thud and a thunk.
And knowing my luck I'd land on a skunk.
So here I will sit 'til my dying day.
Or maybe, at least, 'til that bear goes away.
There was a young man of the Tweed
Who sucked his wife's arse thro' a reed.
When she had diarrhoea
He'd let none come near,
For fear they should poach on his feed.
A whore grown too old to get laid
Turned parfumeuse, finding it paid
To concoct Fleur de Floozie
From the juice of her coosie
(Substantial discount to the trade).
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