I asked a friendly prostitute
If she’d service a leper.
She looked at me a moment
And she said “yep, yep, yepper!”
We had a crazy evening.
Yes, it was quite a trip!
I asked “how can I thank you?”
She said “just leave the tip.”
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Tag Archives: Gross
In Case You’d Forgotten
Back in the Western USA
In 1800 somethin’
A couple cowboys realized
Their hearts, they were a thumpin’.
The cowboys had been life long friends
And though they both were male
They rode to Brokeback Mountain
And they gave up on the trail.
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!
We used to have some cowboys
To protect our town from raids,
But now we have to check
Our cowboy guardians for AIDS!
They use to be quick to the draw
But now they have more fun
With the sheathing than the drawing
Of their aforementioned gun!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!
One cowboy found his saddle’s
Grown less comfortable with time. He
Found this was the case
Unless their romance they would stymie.
But the cowboys needed horses
Like they found they needed lasses
And they replaced their ponies
With one another’s (whoaaa!)
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-yodel-addle-ee!
Yodel-oodle-yodel-adle-odel-sodomy!
Yodel
Oodle
Yodel
Adel
Odel
Soooooooo…
Doooooooo…
Myyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
New Data Indicates Many Catholics Don’t Enjoy Limericks
I think if I were a nun
I’d want to carry a gun
‘Cause I wouldn’t enjoy
Being mistook for a boy
When the priest says he wants to “have fun.”
Filed under Poems
Bad Romance
I love you
Like Japan loves tentacles,
Like psychos love murder
And goth teens love pentacles.
I love you
Like Chris Pratt loves his raptors
And people with Stockholm
Syndrome love their captors.
I love you
Like a farmer loves cattle,
Like that one guy you know
Loves leather and a paddle.
I love you
Like Tarantino loves gore
And it’s for these reasons
I can’t see you no more.
Filed under Poems
If “The Red Wheelbarrow” Is Good, Why Isn’t This?
Her love made me warm and fuzzy
Like a bit of french cheese
Left in a sauna over the weekend
But, alas, she had fleas.
Filed under Poems
Great Name, Slightly-Maggoty Flavor
If I were a fruit
I would be a dragonfruit
‘Cause no one eats those.
Filed under Poems
Maybe It Tasted Good A Few Years Ago?
I want a sandwich
With clams, beets, and garlic
Sprinkled with liver and thyme
Topped with two scoops
Of pistachio ice cream
And the zest of a two-week-old lime
All smeared on a loaf
Of gluten-free flatbread
Served on a hard rubber plate.
You get it when you order
A nice BLT.
I call it “The Internet Date.”
Filed under Poems
