Tag Archives: Women

Oregon Love (Or Why you Shouldn’t Settle For The First Pretty Face)

Her eyes were blue as Crater Lake,

Her breasts were like Mount Hood.

Her hair fell like Multnomah Falls

And all these things were good.

I held her hand and felt as big

And strong as Haystack Rock

Until my wife came home that night

And smacked me with her cock.

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The Model Meets The Gamer

I’m young and very beautiful

As you can clearly see,

And so I guess you’re losing sleep

So oft you think of me?

It’s true that you are beautiful,

It’s true that you are young,

But I think of you as often

As the flavor of my tongue.

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Truth Hurts

She said “You’re too accommodating

“And also get defensive a lot.”

I said “That’s fine, we’ll work it out

“And also, no I’m not.”

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“One Man” Was Found Murdered In His Home That Same Evening

I asked “Why call it PMS?

“This will really save my bacon!”

One man wrote back “It’s PMS

“‘Cause ‘Mad Cow Disease’ was taken.”

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What Degree of Bachelor?

I was sitting by myself

When, as if from out of thin air,

A nymph straight from my fantasies

Asked “Is anyone sitting there?”

I smiled as well as a man can smile

When faced with an 11/10

And said “It’s free.” She said “Lovely!”

Then gave it to her friend.

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An Honest Fairy Tale

A long, forgotten time ago

In long-forgotten lands

There lived a pair of lovely twins

Who worked as stablehands.

The first girl was named Allison,

The second, Mirabella.

Both had dreams of rescue

By a prince (or princely fella).

Both were bright and beautiful

And full of youthful vigor,

Their smiles were breezes in the heat

And fires within the frigor.

Allison worked hard all day

Attending to the mules,

Believing that her honest work

Would lead to princely jewels.

Mirabella worked instead

As little as she could,

Aiming to stay soft and clean

As any princess should.

Many peasants came to try

To earn a sister’s heart.

Some were strong or rich or brave

And others still made art.

But neither flowers and poetry

Nor deeds both great and small

Could attract the twins, who wanted

A prince, else none at all.

Allison grew old and strong

And wealthy all the while.

Mirabella just grew old,

But did it with a smile.

There are far fewer princes

Than lovely stablehands

In both the world in which we live

And long-forgotten lands.

Neither twin could find a prince

And neither was a wife

But both, at least, had managed

To live a happy life.

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Spa Ha Ha

I asked how much it costs

To get one’s pubic region waxed.

They said “A Brazilian dollars,”

At which point I relaxed.

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