A limerick about flatulence fetish perhaps?

It is Monday after all. Just about. It just about rhymes. Kinda.

Eproctophilia out in the garden

met a flatulent lass “Beg your pardon”

She proclaimed, did a toot

He breathed in her bum fruit

And it gave him a fart fuelled huge hardon

Look I know, takes some effort reading it but it just kind of slipped out.  Reminded me of the time I did those haiku about fetishes and then when I was teaching in that time and left the research on the laptop when I plugged in in front of about twenty 10 year olds.

Limerick?

Not really. It just rhymed so…well you know how it goes. It’s a bit clumsy but…meh. It’s something.

Our babysitter, mum’s brother Remus

had a rather large, quite hairy penis

As kids I’d share a bath

with my brother, such a laugh

and my uncle would climb in between us

 

 

 

Whimsy

6 lines of words

Wistful she sits, her heart another’s and lost in fractured thought

to places far and wide she wanders in search of life and love and more

while heavy the bonds of obligation lie and soul so sadly smothered

and then behind her came a tiger and ate her face off and she was dead.


 

Sorry but I just saw the photo and it made me laugh.  I am sure she is meant to be all pensive and comtemplative but really, there is a big frigging tiger behind her and she is a slip of a lass and barefoot so there is no way she will either fight it off or outrun it.

Maybe she’s thinking “Oh bollocks a tiger…” and the tiger is thinking “Hello hello what do we have here you look delicious”.

And why on earth is she wearing that daft dress out in the middle of a forest.  It’s going to get bloody filthy and there’s no way she will get the muck out of it.

Some people…honest.