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But the crew all made up for it later.
Her cunt was a mass of gangrene,
But health nuts, she found,
Would still eat her mound,
‘Cause maggots are high in protein.
From dusk unti dawn she sucked cock,
She gave so much head,
She exploded and whitewashed the dock.
Who kept a dead whore in a cave,
He said, “I admit,
I’m a bit of a shit,
But think of the money I save.”
Said, “Fucking is one thing I do know,
A woman is fine,
And sheep are divine,
But a llama is numero uno.”
Who had a rectangular ball,
The square of its weight,
Plus his penis times eight,
Was two-fifths of five-eights of fuck all.
Whose wife was a bit of a prude,
But after a beer,
She’d start feeling queer,
And ask the whole room if they screwed.
Went in for fucking quite heavily,
He fucked night and day,
Till his ballocks gave way,
But the doctors replaced them quite cleverly.
Who wrote “Assholes and Twelve Ways of Rooting ’em,”
He then went berserk,
When outdone by a Turk,
Who wrote “Goats and Twelve Ways of Fucking ’em.”
Her mother remarked as she kissed her,
“That fellow you’ve won,
Is sure to be fun,
Since tea he’s fucked me and your sister.”
Who screwed all the girls while confirming ’em,
To the roars of applause,
He’d pull down their drawers,
And inject his Episcopal sperm in ’em.
Who fashioned a cunt out of clay,
But the heat of his prick,
Turned the clay into brick,
And it rubbed his foreskin away.
Who loved his young wife with such zest,
That despite all her howls,
He sucked out her bowels,
And puked up the mess on her chest.
Who did a shit in the gutter,
Melted his balls on the spot,
And off they flowed like butter.
Who tried to get laid in a Nissan,
There was room for his ass,
And three gallons of gas,
But his balls hung outside and he lost ’em.
Who said to his girl, “You’re a tight ‘un.”
She replied, “‘Pon my soul,
You’re in the wrong hole,
There’s plenty of room in the right ‘un.”
Who was poked in a pew by a Quaker,
He yelled, “My God!
What do you call thata twat?
Why the entrance is more than an acre!”
With a cunt of enormous extent,
And so deep and wide,
The acoustics inside,
Were so good you could hear when you spent.
Whose bush had grown hairier and hairier,
Till a Prince from Peru,
Who came for a screw,
Had to hunt for her cunt with a terrier.
Three brats, by name Nat, Pat, and Tat,
It was fun in the breeding,
But hell in the feeding,
When she found she had no tit for Tat.
Whose sex life was strangely amiss,
For even with Venus,
His recalcitrant penis,
Would never do better than this.
A poofter from old Khartoum,
Lured two lesbians up to his room,
They argued all night,
Over who had the right,
To do what, and with which, and to whom.
Once shit in his bags as he knelt in ’em,
He sold them at Ware,
To a gentleman there,
Who didn’t much like what he smelt in ’em.
Who attempted to bugger a cod,
When up came some scallops,
That nibbled his ballocks,
And now he’s a eunuch, by God.
Who said to the man who undressed her,
“I think you will find,
That it’s better behind,
As the front is beginning to fester.”
Who played with herself in the loft,
Having reasoned that candles,
Could never cause scandals,
Besides which they did not go soft.
There was a poor wretch from Cape Horn,
Who wished he’d never been born,
He wouldn’t have been,
If his father had seen,
That the end of his rubber was torn.
Had a penis which just wouldn’t function,
For the rest of his life,
He misled his poor wife,
With a snot on the end of his truncheon.
Drives sane adults to delirium,
Spouting multicultural drivel,
He makes our brains shrivel,
With messages of oneness ad nauseam. – F.B.
,Who crept into the vestry unseen,
She pulled down her knickers,
And likewise, the vicar’s,
And said, “How about it, old bean?”
A pretty young thing from Cape Cod,
Said, “Good things come only from God,”
But ’twas not the Almighty,
Who lifted her nightie,
But Roger, the lodger, the sod.
Who invented a fucking machine,
He pulled out the choke,
And the bloody thing broke,
And mixed both his balls into cream.
Found an elephant’s dong in her stew,
Said the waiter, “Don’t shout,
Or wave it about,
Or the others will all want one, too.”
One time was romancing a lass,
When she used the word, “Damn,”
He rebuked her, “Please ma’am,
Keep a more civil tongue up my ass.”
Whose cock was shot off in his youth,
He fucked with his nose,
And with fingers and toes,
And he came through a hole in his tooth.
Who said as the Bishop withdrew,
“The Vicar is slicker,
And quicker and thicker,
And two inches longer than you.”
Said as the Vicar withdrew,
“The Verger’s emerger,
Is longer and larger,
And he gets his ballocks in too.”
Kept the Bishop of London in slavery,
With lecherous howls,
He deflowered little owls,
That he kept in an underground aviary.
Who kept a small tame amoebae,
The wee piece of jelly,
Would crawl on her belly,
And tenderly murmur “Ich liebe.”
Is back in his hospital room,
He took physical therapy,
Just a little too seriously,
Now he’s got Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. – F.B.

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