Today's poems [3.16.13]
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There was an old fellow named Rapp
Who had a job all considered a snap.
In the insane asylum
He'd grade cunts and file 'em,
And bi-weekly he'd rub up their nap
A young Juliet of St. Louis
On a balcony stood, acting screwy.
Her Romeo climbed,
But he wasn't well timed,
And half-way up, off he went---blooey!
There once was a writer named Twain
Who had a peculiar stain
Surrounding the head
Of his prick: it was red,
And was said to wash off in the rain.
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.
A horrid old lady of Summit,
Every time she got laid had to vomit,
And although she would groan
When her man got a bone,
"Give it here," she would say, "and I'll gum it!"
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