Today's poems [2.28.10]

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               A patrician young fellow named Lear 
               Used to wash off his bollocks with beer. 
                    Said he, "By the gods, 
                    This is good for the cods--- 
               It will lengthen my fucking career. 

By a cozy peat fire in O'Dell, 
               Sat a Scot and a Mick, I hear tell. 
                    "I'm full," cried O'Brien. 
                    Said McLoed,"Well, I'm buyin'." 
               Sure and now, that's a cold day in hell. 

There once was a fellow named Trete 
Who from birth was inclined to be neat. 
He became extra fussy 
When he thought his pants mussy, 
And would throw them away in the street. 

There was an old spinster of Tyre
Who bellowed, "MY CUNT IS ON FIRE!"
So a fireman was found,
Brought his engine around
And extinguished her burning desire

                    A girl on a southern plantation
                            
                    Was the product of insemination.
                            So each fathers' day
                            She would send a bouquet
                            
                    To a syringe in a far away nation.
                            

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