MOBLEYC57
10-16-2003, 08:59 PM
A MARRIAGE
POEM
Oh husband, dear husband, I tremble with fear;
You\'ve been on overtime almost all year;
And since
you are gone till way late at night,
A good piece of ass seems way out of sight.
Oh husband, dear husband,
please don\'t be a fool;
Working overtime is wasting your tool;
For better it is to be poor all your life,
Than bring a soft peter home to your wife;
I used to be happy as your little queen,
But now every night
you\'re nowhere to be seen;
You come home from work just able to creep,
I feel like screwing, but you want to
sleep.
Each evening, dear husband, you crawl into bed,
Your intentions are good, but your peter is dead;
I
play with your pecker all wrinkled and dry,
I get so damn mad, I could lay down and cry.
I have pleaded with
you dear, with tears in my eyes,
I\'ve played with your balls, but your pecker won\'t rise;
So I\'ll find
me a man who works eight hours a day,
And while you\'re at work, we\'ll proceed to make hay.
For in this
whole world there is only one sin,
For which there\'s no pardon, and never has been;
And that is a man who is
so foolish, cold, and mean,
That he gives up his screwing to run a f#cking machine.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmm gotta boner
he can borrow? /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/blush.gif
POEM
Oh husband, dear husband, I tremble with fear;
You\'ve been on overtime almost all year;
And since
you are gone till way late at night,
A good piece of ass seems way out of sight.
Oh husband, dear husband,
please don\'t be a fool;
Working overtime is wasting your tool;
For better it is to be poor all your life,
Than bring a soft peter home to your wife;
I used to be happy as your little queen,
But now every night
you\'re nowhere to be seen;
You come home from work just able to creep,
I feel like screwing, but you want to
sleep.
Each evening, dear husband, you crawl into bed,
Your intentions are good, but your peter is dead;
I
play with your pecker all wrinkled and dry,
I get so damn mad, I could lay down and cry.
I have pleaded with
you dear, with tears in my eyes,
I\'ve played with your balls, but your pecker won\'t rise;
So I\'ll find
me a man who works eight hours a day,
And while you\'re at work, we\'ll proceed to make hay.
For in this
whole world there is only one sin,
For which there\'s no pardon, and never has been;
And that is a man who is
so foolish, cold, and mean,
That he gives up his screwing to run a f#cking machine.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmm gotta boner
he can borrow? /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/blush.gif