Today's poems [12.23.08]

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There was a young lady from Munich 
            Who was had in a park by a eunuch. 
                In a moment of passion 
                He shot her a ration 
            From a squirt-gun concealed 'neath his tunic. 

   Here I sit
   What a caper
   I have to shit
   But I'm out of paper


  

I'm Glad I'm a Man



 I'm glad I'm a man, yes I am, I am king
 I don't live off of berries, bob-bons, and rings
 I don't brag to my girlfriends about my infections
 I won't talk to the blind man, concerning directions.

 I'm glad I'm a man, I'm so glad I could yell
 I don't shave my hair, wax, or use gel
 I don't buy wonder bras, or girdles or such
 and I don't beg for money to enlarge my bust.

 I'm glad I'm a man, of that I am proud.
 I'm not all bitchy, annoying and loud.
 I won't try to squeeze in jeans three sizes too small.
 My crdit card is still good when I leave from the mall.

 Yes, I'm glad I'm a man, a man you see
 I can pee standing up, sitting down, or in a tree
 I don't believe every ad with the word free

 I won't drink diet coke, or eat a rice cake.
 There's no silicone here, my chest isn't fake.
 My face isn't "lifted," my bra isn't stuffed,
 I do what's proper, I leave the toilet seat up.
 
 It doesn't take hours to fix up my hair,
 I don't see the need to use the bathroom in pairs.
 I won't throw a tyrade and then blame PMS.
 I'm a man, and I'm glad I can deal with my stress.

 I have intuition, I never get lost.
 I share household duties, I won't try to be boss.
 I'm a man and with that comes a high sense of class.
 I won't wear a swimsuit that rides up my ass.

 I won't go out at night in a black leather skirt,
 Then slap anybody who just tries to flirt.
 You crazy women scare me, you have lots of gall,
 To make Lorena a hero for hacking off balls.

 I won't cry like a baby when Bambi gets shot
 I don't make up false places, like the infamous "G-spot."
 I'm a man of high faith, its my right to command.
 The bible and God say all women must serve under man.
 I'm a man by chance and I'm thankful it's true--
 I'm glad I'm a man and not a woman like you.

                    A certain young man of St. Paul
                            
                    Consistently practiced withdrawal.
                            This quaint predilection
                            Created such friction,
                            
                    He soon had no foreskin at all.
                            

An indolent vicar of Bray 
            Kept his wife in the family way, 
                Till she grew more alert, 
                Bought a vaginal squirt, 
            And said to her spuose, "Let us spray!" 

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