Today's poems [3.3.10]
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There was an old woman of Ghent
She swore that her cunt had no scent.
She got fucked so often
At last she got rotten,
And didn't she stink when she spent.
There was a young man had the art
Of making a capital tart
With a handful of shit
Some snot and a spit
And he'd flavour the whole with a fart.
Holy mother full of grace,
Bless my boyfriends sexy face,
keep him from the girls I hate,
For we were meant to be soul mates,
Sent by L&S
There was a young lady from Eaton
Whose figure had plenty of meat on.
She said: 'Wed me, Jack,
And you'll find that my back
Is a nice place to warm your cold feet on'.
There was a fat man from Rangoon
Whose prick was mich like a balloon.
He tried hard to ride her
And when finally inside her
She thought she was pregnant too soon.
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