and how about on Thursdays we hobbyists all dress up in white plate armor and write poems for them?



JUST FUCKING WITH YOU FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, PUT DOWN THE PEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!  

Organizing a boycott of touring providers is a good way to get ladies to stop visiting.

Here are some poems/limericks & a photo fer ya ENG (the first limerick is in honor of Mr. Fisher)

There was a young fellow named Fisher
Who was fishing for fish in a fissure,
When a cod, with a grin,
Pulled the fisherman in
Now they're fishing the fissure for Fisher.

There once was a man from Nantucket
Whose dick was so big he could suck it
He said with a grin
As he wiped off his chin
If my ear was a cXXt I would fuck it.

A nudist by the name of Roger Peet
Loved to dance in the snow and the sleet,
But one chilly December
He froze every member,
And retired to a monkish retreat.

A young man whose sight was myopic
Thought sex an incredible topic.
So poor were his eyes,
That despite its great size,
His penis appeared microscopic.

There was a young lady named Myrtle
Who had an affair with a turtle,
She had crabs, so the say,
In a year and a day,
Which proves that the turtle was fertile.

There was a young lady named Sharkey
Who had an affair with a darkey.
The result of her sins
Was quadruplets, not twins,
One white, and one black, and two khaki.

There once was a man from Bejing
Who invented a jackoff machine
He put his prick in it
Done a thousand beats a minute
And turned his poor balls to cream.
- John

There once was a man named Dave
Who kept a dead whore in his cave
You must admit
She smelled like shit
But imagine the money he saved
- John

There once was a girl from Aboritzwith
Who used to take flour to the mill to bake crisps with,
But the miller's son Jack,
laid her flat on her back,
and united the organs they pissed with.
- Darcy

There once was a man named Kent
Whose dick was so long that it bent
To save himself trouble
He stuck it in double
But instead of coming, he went.
- Earl

There was a fishmonger called Babs,
Who sold cod, skate, place and dabs;
But she had sex with me,
And caught my VD;
And now she's a purveyor of crabs
- Michael W

To be real was Pinochios desire,
Of this dream he never did tier;
But he knew he was wood,
When he bashed on his pud;
And the poor little bugger caught fire.

-- Modified on 5/17/2009 2:30:42 PM