Today's poems [4.2.12]
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Have you heard of the Widow O'Riley
Who esteemed her late husband so highly
That in spite of the scandal,
Her umbrella handle
Was made of his membrum virile.
Thank God for the Duchess of Gloucester,
She obliges all who accost her.
She welcomes the prick
Of Tom, Harry, or Dick,
Or Baldwin, or even Lord Astor.
There was a gay parson of Tooting
Whose roe he was frequently shooting,
Till he married a lass
With a face like my ass,
And a cunt you could put a top-boot in.
A cowhand way out in Seattle
Had a dooflicker flat as a paddle.
He said, "No, I can't fuck
A lamb or a duck,
But golly! it just fits the cattle."
Here was a young man of Cape Horn,
Who wished he had never been born.
And he wouldn't have been,
If his father had seen
That the end of the rubber was torn.
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