Tag Archives: Women

*Grunt, Impale Worm On Hook, Lifelong Companion*

Women will talk to their friends

About what their friends would say

If they knew what someone whose not their friend

Said “Hi” instead of “Hey”.

They’ll whisper all about a person’s

Clothes or hair or walk.

Guys don’t have this problem

Because male friends don’t talk.

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Stuff People Like

Cars and sports and guns and sports

And balls and boobs and mustard:

These (plus sports) are what guys like;

Other stuff makes them flustered.

I would write another poem

About what women like too

But they just can’t even anymore

And if you don’t know, they won’t tell you.

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She’s Actually Not, But The Punchline Makes Me Seem Desperate, And Desperation Is Funny

My girl is sexier than yours.

She could knock hinges off doors.

She has pretty knees and toes

And looks good with and without clothes.

She has pretty auburn hair

And says fancy stuff like “Au contraire”.

She’s the girl I’m going to marry…

Who cares if she’s imaginary?

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Just Another Way Men Are Casually Oppressed

All the women who play video games

And complain about bikini armor

Never seem to complain about how

Swords and arrows never harm her,

But men are stuck with heavy armor

Instead of a chainmail thong

Because if men could wear female armor

They’d be unbelievably strong.

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Jasmine Is Not A Fan Of Arabian Heat

Mohammed had a magic carpet

That very ably flew;

It could go zero to sixty

In precisely 8.2

But Aladdin had a carpet

With a sunroof and AC

So the choice of who to date

Was obvious to me!

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Is It The Tail?

Horsey horsey, riding in circles,

Pooping and snorting and chewing on grass.

Horsey horsey, tired of people

Comparing each other to your lovely ass.

Horsey horsey, with shoes made of metal,

Hair on your neck, your face, and your butt.

For some reason women all seem to love you

You’ve something I don’t, but I can’t think of what…

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Suck It, Hanging Gardens Of Babylon!

It rises like a mountain,

Slopes gently like a hill,

Softer than a lullaby

And gives me such a thrill;

A spectacle, a marvel,

And my mouth will never shut

As I gaze with loving splendor

On my girl’s majestic butt.

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Chatting With The “Mirror Selfie” Girls…

Sometimes I look in the mirror

And see myself staring at me,

And when I clean the glass it gets clearer

And I know it’s my face that I see

And I look at myself and think “Wow!

“That’s expected, and not very shocking!”

And that, my dear lady, is what I perceive

And thus space out when you start talking.

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Sophie’s Choice

Sophie was an average girl

With fairly average likes;

Fond of wine and dogs and soap

And mental health and hikes.

One day she was kidnapped

By a disembodied voice

Who told her she would surely die

Unless she made the choice:

Would she rather kiss someone

Who smelled liked a catcher’s mitt

That had been soaked in sour milk

And armadillo spit

While treading water in a pool

Of acid, hot as Hades

And listening to Kenny G

Play highlights of the eighties

While the Devil lit a match

And burned off all her hair…

Or, when asked where she’d like to eat

To not say “I don’t care.”

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Also Starring: Ikea Furniture, Bad Decisions, Musclebound Shirtless Guys Who Talk About Feelings… Waaaaiiiiiit…

If they rebooted “Fight Club“

With an all-female cast

It would feature Taylor Durden

Remembering her past

When she and thousands of women

From different means and ends

Got together in a basement

And pretended to be friends

Until at last they’d had enough

And used some dynamite

To blow up buildings, and then were like

“Becky’s so cringe, right?”

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