Sunday, 18 December 2011

The Lass

Necessary Poe's Law disclaimer: 'Tis a nonsense rhyme.

The Lass
When I go out of for dinner
With a particularly voluptuous lass,
I cannot help but ponder
Upon that perfect ass.

Squeeze it right
And squeeze it tight,
Let steely fingers deliver
A fully knuckled bite.

When she has gone away,
And when my face has stopped stinging;
About that that perfect ass
I cannot help but start singing.

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