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Pokern
 
 
Today's poems [6.2.04]

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Pardon My French
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The finest culture
  Comes from Frontz
And hoe-knee-swat-key
  Molly-ponce!

Sally learned
  To speak in French
She's now a dame
  And not a wench

Dick acquired
  That language fair
And now he's swayve
  And deb-an-err

Speaking French
  Will prove you're better
Show you've got a
  Rays-on-debtor

Read in French
   And sack-ray-blue!
You're sure to find
  Your tom-pair-doo

Write in French
  And you'll be famous
Just like muss-your
  Albert Camus

You can bet
  Your dairy-air
Your French will prove
  Your salve-war-fare

He who is
  A true believer
Shows his Gallic
  Joyed-a-fever

French cuisine
  Is all the rage
So drink Bored-O
  With soft from-age

Wear a little
  Black beret
And eat cross-ants
  With French calf-A

Then there's all
  That art you know
So speak bow-czar
  And art-new-foe

And what a joy
  To smoke Get-tans
While watching films
  That come from Cans

I guess it's not
  An easy job
To be a phony
  Stuck-up snob...

Such games in Frontz
  They also play
But there "c'est snob"
  To speak anglais!

1.   Vote:    Category: Foreign Send this poem to a friend




A Dutchman who dwelt in Dundee
Walked into a grocer's named Lee.
He said "If you blease,
Haff you any prick cheese?"
Said the grocer, "I'll skin back and see."







2.   Vote:    Category: Situations Send this poem to a friend




                    There was an old harlot of Wick
                            
                    Who was sucking a coal-heaver's prick.
                            She said, "I don't mind
                            The coal dust and grime,
                            
                    But the smell of your balls makes me sick."
                            


3.   Vote:    Category: Send this poem to a friend




There once was a gay young Parisian 
            Who came to an awful decision: 
                For his sexual joys 
                He'd have women and boys, 
            And snakes too---and no supervision! 

4.   Vote:    Category: Sex Send this poem to a friend




The Jung Idea

The young things who frequent picture-palaces
Have no use for this psycho-analysis;
And although doctor Freud
Is distinctly annoyed
They cling to their long-standing fallacies.


5.   Vote:    Category: Science Related Send this poem to a friend



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