Today's poems [2.2.10]

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Oh, pity the Duchess of Kent! 
               Her cunt is so dreadfully bent, 
                    The poor wench doth stammer, 
                    "I need a sledgehammer 
               To pound a man into my vent." 

Make My Boobies One More Size

 ~~~~Biggie Spears


  Oh booby booby
  Oh booby booby

  Oh booby booby
  My chest was supposed to grow
  My cleavage wasn't right yeah
  Oh boobies boobies
  My breasts are completely full
  And now my sweater's tight yeah
  Surgery
  I wanna be a size "d"
  Bigger memories
  I want them to show
  Now oh because

 Chorus:
 My chest flatness was killing me
 And i
 I must confess
 I paid for these
 (paid for these)
 I look 32
 I'm just a child
 I am a crime
 Make my boobies one more size

 Oh baby baby
 I got double D's it's true
 Now you've all been blinded
 Oh pretty boobies
 Your so big and oh so new
 That's just the way I planned it

 Golly
 Rolling Stone was naughty
 See me baby
 Barely wearing clothes
 Now oh because
  
 Chorus:
 My chest flatness was killing me
 And i
 I must confess
 I paid for these
 (paid for these)
 I look 32
 I'm just a child
 I am a crime
 Make my boobies one more size

Should a fellow discover some night 
               A girl's body in bed, it's all right. 
                    He should think it good luck, 
                    And accept the free fuck--- 
               He will bugger her too, if he's bright. 

                              A chap down in Oklahoma 
                              Had a cock that could sing La Paloma, 
                                        But the sweetness of pitch 
                                        Couldn't put off the hitch 
                              Of impotence, size and aroma. 

Father



 Father, don't I have to work?
 No, my lucky son.
 We're living now on Easy Street,
 on dough from Washington.

 We've left things up to Uncle Sam,
 so don't get exercised.
 No-one has to give a damn.
 We've all been subsidized!

 But if Sam treats us all so well,
 and feeds us milk and honey,
 please, Daddy, tell me what the hell
 He's going to do for money?

 Don't worry, Bub, there's not a hitch
 in this-here noble plan.
 We merely soak the Filthy Rich
 and feed the Common Man.

 But, Daddy, won't there come a time
 when they'll run out of cash?
 And we'll have left, then, not a dime
 and things will go to smash?!

 My faith in you is shrinking, son,
 you nosey little brat!
 You do too damned much thinking, son,
 to be a Democrat!

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