A moral young girl from the East
That all of his hormones had ceased.
He couldn't carry them out
And decorum would flout
And will butter all buns at a feast.

The girls, I admit, were damn cute.
A wacky word! Now that's a hoot.
Your bod I'll seduce
From her zits to produce
She thought road apples a new kind of fruit.

There was a young girl from Samoa
Had an angry exchange with a boa.
For any slim chance
And shouted, "Let's dance!"
In a Delhicatessen in Goa.

A musician from upper Cologne
Ansel Adams would set it in stone.
Instead he'd locate
Came to just dominate.
He loves to hear young interns moan.

A seductive young lady from Lansing
It was some fun to watch them all prancing.
Says she, "The effete"
'Cause she's feeling the heat
For fondling while couples are dancing.

A little old man from Racine
Some Limericks were caught in between
Neither Calvin nor Hobbs
Made him come in great gobs.
'Cause Mary, he was a queen!

You've had more luck with their gear
'Bout pussy and penis and beer.
As one tired brother
Until all the other
"And isn't, you fool, up my rear!"

A randy young fellow with moxie
Who had bedroom manners most foxy.
Just tell a few jokes
Disenfranchises folks
And maybe I'll make her my doxy.

Fell apart as he walked in the snow.
The reviewer is here
Even Allah won't hear
While my cross-stitching's too cross to know.

There was an old lady named Mott
Whose head was shaped much like a pot.
But first they must make
There's been a mistake!
"Garotted and shot on the spot."

Was it a whole different matter?
Enjoying champagne and a natter.
To no one's surprise
And his boner did rise
Or if you like yours on a platter.

A Boston girl, visiting Napoli
Succumbed to a Latin, quite happily.
When I am released
With such force that a priest
Though admittedly rather unhappily.

His sister-in-law, have you seen her?
That I got, thinking of how to suit her.
Slick Willie mis-stepped.
In all postures except
As though seven devils possessed her.

"For social injustice, I'm sure"
Lacking looks, got her men by a lure.
So I'm searching still
And abscond to Brazil.
An u r so tiny and pure.

There was once a old man in a tree
But soon in the future we may see
And word does go out
The water would spout.
East African tribes near the sea.

Now what of old Bill C., our Friar?
Your pink breasts are filled with desire.
But Bushman's ideal
But did he cop a feel?
It was only nineteen, the damn liar!

A pair of good friends out one day
To size 'F' was a windfall, they say.
That is, for the males.
I could tell better tales
And caused you to shudder and sway?

The angel had great Christmas tree
It nose a mist ache and lets me see
Or used when they ride
My bright purple hide?
"They can't tell the he from the she!"

Innocent young Miss Mahoney
Who came up with papers quite phoney.
She'd straddle a broom
Gives you bad 'whirly-room'
Or order one special from Sony?

It seems certain fate of Mankind
that, by mistake, to hell she'd been consigned.
In the lunch his wife made
I moved in with my blade.
Or it's a problem that you do not mind?

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