To all the chicks I once slipped things into, “Happy Valentines Day,” gals!
Ahh, whimsy…
Hmmm.
To all the ones I’ve humped before.
And all those places I’ve dribbled on the floor.
When it hurts to pee, I wish your name came to me, so I can get you to fill out this damn STD questionnaire.
To all the chicks I once slipped things into
Like roofies, maybe?
Meat puppet quickly Dancing the velvet taco Prelude to scat play.
Sweet Valentine mate My bowels are a raging fire Please pull my finger.
To Monica:
The thought of you never drifts too far, The sweet memory of sharing our first cigar.
Love
Bubba
Roofies? Jello shots? Edible condoms? Goldstein withholds the details.
Teddy’s evening tryst, Too much Jack-n- Coke driving Cold corps in the lake.
natesnake, you will go straight to hell for the finger quip – Coke out the nose!
TW: Father, forgive them – they know not what they do. [She gasps and expires]
#1 on Jeff’s playlist: “To All the Girls I’ve Drugged Before.”
HEY!
What about the ones that got no slippin, but are dedicated readers, non hysterical about our uteruses’, like men hairy and stinky and appreciate being thrown over their shoulder and dragged back to the cave? Don’t we get a little love too?
“Things”… ? I think I will refrain from asking for details.
Candies and flowers, Are my way of asking you, To touch my weiner.
I got you nothing. And you bought nothing for me. Isn’t our love grand?
I had some big plans. Furs and gems and choc-o-lat. But the stores were closed.
Dearest Valentine Rove’s check bounced, so I can give only words of love:
“My cream filling is less bad for your skin than that greasy cherry stuff is.”
Cards, flowers, candy… All will serve to set the tone: Just shtup me, baby!
Rolling in the grass Shamlessly without your rims Where has our love gone?
Regis once told me Valentine gifts are for wimps. I bow to sensei.
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Ahh, whimsy…
Hmmm.
To all the ones I’ve humped before.
And all those places I’ve dribbled on the floor.
When it hurts to pee,
I wish your name came to me,
so I can get you to fill out this damn STD questionnaire.
Like roofies, maybe?
Meat puppet quickly
Dancing the velvet taco
Prelude to scat play.
Sweet Valentine mate
My bowels are a raging fire
Please pull my finger.
To Monica:
The thought of you never drifts too far,
The sweet memory of sharing our first cigar.
Love
Bubba
Roofies? Jello shots?
Edible condoms? Goldstein
withholds the details.
Teddy’s evening tryst,
Too much Jack-n- Coke driving
Cold corps in the lake.
natesnake, you will go
straight to hell for the finger
quip – Coke out the nose!
TW: Father, forgive them – they know not what they do. [She gasps and expires]
#1 on Jeff’s playlist: “To All the Girls I’ve Drugged Before.”
HEY!
What about the ones that got no slippin, but are dedicated readers, non hysterical about our uteruses’, like men hairy and stinky and appreciate being thrown over their shoulder and dragged back to the cave? Don’t we get a little love too?
“Things”… ? I think I will refrain from asking for details.
Candies and flowers,
Are my way of asking you,
To touch my weiner.
I got you nothing.
And you bought nothing for me.
Isn’t our love grand?
I had some big plans.
Furs and gems and choc-o-lat.
But the stores were closed.
Dearest Valentineâ€â€
Rove’s check bounced, so I can give
only words of love:
“My cream filling is
less bad for your skin than that
greasy cherry stuff is.”
Cards, flowers, candy…
All will serve to set the tone:
Just shtup me, baby!
Rolling in the grass
Shamlessly without your rims
Where has our love gone?
Regis once told me
Valentine gifts are for wimps.
I bow to sensei.