Roses are red Like Reizvoilles' udders, What ruins my day? They look like me mother's. Somebody throw me a rope. I'm sinking in the mire.
Schmedly, no sex for you. Grimey, don't drag me into your lover's tiff with dio. Dio and Gimey, please get a room and pound eachother's asses until you are gratified. Barry, that was fucking awesome. Bungle, Harlan has more chance of seeing my boobies than you do.
Go to www.poetry.com and look up a 'poet' by the name of "Jack Lomotilian" - my only foray into the world of poetry. They actually sent a copy of that poem (visible from the outside of the envelope) to my parent's P.O. Box, as that was the address I gave them (in case of insurmountable royalties, mind you)...
Duely noted. But, to be fare, I never asked, or hinted at asking. I was just pointing out where the cream goes in general. Get over yourself Reiz.
Okay here is my piss poor attempt at poetry. Roses are red Violets are blue, I fucked Grims wife, you know her as malibu. OR Violets are blue and roses are pink, I fucked your mom in her ass and now my dick stinks..... or Roses are red, Pansies smell sweet, Grim likes to jack his dick while he smokes smurfs meat Okay, enough for now.....
Dead are the roses, of urine they reek. Lost for the season. since Dwiane took a leak. Schmed loves his veggies, Cooked up in a wok. and loves for his women to smell like his socks. :shock: Barry
