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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