Today's poems [3.5.20]
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George Michael re-releases
And I'm never going to wank again,
Guilty nobs have have got no rythm
Though its easy to pretend
I'm standing on a stool.
Should have known better than to wank in bogs,
Stood in shit and covered in jism,
So I'm never gonna wank again,
The way I wanked with you oo ooh.
Let me take you to a place,
Where gays will come upon your face,
If you want them to,
And if you stand upon a bag,
They'll do things that will make you gag,
As you sit upon the loo,
Bog Tropicana sex is free,
Bums and gism, there's enough for everyone,
And if you like cock just like me,
You can meet them, they all want you!
Young Bums (Go for it!)
(Who the hell's been up your flue?)
(Where's the nearest public loo?)
Well I hadn't seen your arse around town, a while
So I greeted you, with a knowing smile
When I saw that chap upon your lap
I knew he'd taken your length, bent over the taps
I said: "Big boy, what's with the frown!"
I said: "Big boy, you better take my cum down."
And in return, I gladly heard you say,
"Fuck me George, I wanna play."
Having some fun,
Crazy Bikers take 'em on the run
Wise Bi's realize, when they see my jiz dripping down your thighs
Whip me, sting me like a bee
No tears, just cheers, and beastiality
One Two, on your cock I wanna chew,
Death by masturbation!
.....and so on, and so on....
There was a young girl of Tonga
Used to diddle herself with a conga.
When asked how it feels
To be pleasured by eels,
She said, "just like a man, only longer."
A renowned archaeologist Vern,
Who unearthed an Egyptian clay urn,
Found himself devastated
When the markings, translated,
Clearly read, "No Refill/No Return."
He was great in the Christmas Cantata,
He could double-stop fart The Toccata,
He'd boom from his ass
Bach's B-Minor Mass,
And in counterpoint, La Traviata.
The typists in Wheesley and Beesley
All fornicate keenly and eas'ly,
In this pleasant way
They add to their pay
Which in Wheesley and Beesley is measly
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