The Early Years
She is to entertain 20 people
I fried up 20 cucumbers
5 lbs. Of okra
In a grit and Parmesan cheese
And bits of bacon in the batter
Some spices, mace, cayenne , paprika
Garlic and onion powder in the
Bater*w/flour and eggs baking soda*
I roasted a teriyaki style pork loin
And sliced it thin with commercial
Mixer, I mean the slicer
A creamy sauce to top it
With vinager , jalapeno, lime
Cream cheese and sour cream
With a touch of fish stock and a
Drop or two of gin, extra dry honey!
Fixed some cheesy grits
Fried some green tomatoes
Steamed some shrimp
And made crab balls
And a pot of
Hollindise
With lime and tequila
and cayenne, Sweet Missie
Slap my ass!
Strawberry shortcake
With
A rummy strawberry sauce
Whipped cream
And vanilla ice cream
Ya'll that's ah party!
Slurp the white zinfendell
And tug at your drawels
She got to take
Notice of this
Mans efforts!
Biscuits sweet like cookies
Dix's wanna pound sum
P*ssie!
I"it'ss s ah love thang! "
She came to my door just after four
My AI whore
She broke the ice, by saying we could do it on the floor
They didn't get carpet burns any more
I asked if we should take precautions
We don’t want unwanted robots running around
She said no, they use the sperm for remodification
Sex didn't seem exciting any more
I suggested we go for a drink
Met the Ex, who introduced me to, Simon, 8.2
I asked her what the 8.2 meant
She gave me a wink and then I knew
Simon had an extra 2
I wanted to get far from the bar
Walk amongst people, get as far
Then I realised walking out the door
I was being replaced by Simon and the whore.
When a whore house was fun
I sat down to write about flowers, those often
called weeds and grows on untended pavements
but another thought got in the way as I recalled
that flowers in a whore house are usually plastic
except for a chrysanthemum on
a painting on a wall of an artistic whore
I have had much fun in houses of ill-repute
it is not only sex but also laughter and dance
The girls liked young sailors and the possibility
of a steady relationship.
It did happen to a sailor coming home from Brazil
with a blushing bride, no need to tell how
they had met
Time has changed, women are victims of men's
sexual demands and places where many victims
operate from have been closed down
Just as well, women in this trade are sex workers
and if not treated rightly, can take a customer
to court, or try a little blackmail
Whoring was more moral before you paid and
had a laughter, not hard-headed business
as the line of work has become
Just a common whore they said
Who rolled the drunken tars
As they staggered out from
The Dockside taverns and bars.
Lime Street, Liverpool was
Where she plied her trade.
Where her drunken bargains
Were very quickly made.
Transported to Australia
When she was finally caught
And Maggie May of Liverpool
Could no longer be bought.
No consideration for the times
The Tars gave her a beating
Or made off without paying,
The lowest form of cheating.
The girls still ply their trade
Their services still for hire
A trade that isn’t possible if
There weren’t so many a buyer.
A class ridden trade really
With the range of clients it affords
From back street transactions to those
Who service the Commons and Lords.
One just a back street whore with
A life of hardship, risk and distress,
The other with chance of promotion
To status of aristocrat’s mistress.
Maggie May is infamous now,
Celebrated in bawdy song
A good modern QC could argue
She probably really did no wrong.
From the Wilds Of Effea.......
By Guitaurious Mousk
Didn't I make it clear
sorta like yesterday
Love got you here
Love won't let you get away
Sing it in my ear
sing your song
your way
don't chore me
don't ignore me
listen to what I say.....
Tame your wildside
stop reacting to my
againstments
calm the shore of
ignorance
study Love
allow me to be
just let me be
Don't be stupid
aint no body
feeling that way
I looked at my options
bet you think you
can sooth me away
get a grip on reality
it's surreal aint it
my freinds gonna talk
me outta romance with you
they'll love your love away
The New Year, that painted whore
to whom we keep returning for more
of the same, with no one to blame
but ourselves, ~ Have we no shame?
Of the things we abhor
We should not add a whore.
You can one give a store
To build with a strength raw
And - Yes - urge to make core
A trade which cleans The Sore:
The world show A New Floor
On which no trash she'll pour:
New space, new floor, New Door...
Of the things whores abhor
They should eschew labor:
Commerce not think A Bore,
Idleness not harbour.
Soli, Soli, then be Tacet!
Soli, Soli, then be Tacet!
Ossai,Ossai, Rubato,Tenuto
Ossai, Soli.
Adagio? Adagio: no, no, no !
Vivase! Vivase, Vivase!
Da Capo!
De Capo!
Divisi, Cresendo,Cresendo!
Aria, Arai, Mastros baton wishes
me to sing., legato, legato
ah- buto concerto!
they prayed for six spheres!
Things you know not about a carnivore
Are many like the goods in hoarder’s store,
Some of them quick at baring the skin pore,
Some much harder than Steel or Iron Ore,
Still some knowledge you could pick from walked floor...
To start with, it adores its ugly jaw,
With it readily breaking The Law;
First, a prey seizing with its cursed paw:
Mostly, The Unsuspecting Herbivore,
Though, does as much to Weaker Carnivore,
Left-over from the quick meal An Eyesore,
Normal Man, who this in their theatre saw,
To himself a calming glass of gin pour,
His safety double or make times four:
If there’s an escaping boat find its oar
None speedily build a hut with tough door!
Each carnivores enjoys just going to war
But finishing of its target quite core…
Each carnivore is A Bastard or Whore!
When Russia inevitably evens the score
Ukraine will remain an unpainted whore
To NATO unattractive
Russia wary, reactive
Hiding in alleyways, pre-Third World War
Three camels and
A whore
Worked the desert
In the heat of the midday sun
Tanned and sinewy
Plying their trade
Sleeping in
the chill when done
Transporting goods
Or transporting men
To them it was all the same
Never looking for more
Than the minimum wage
For something,or someone
To blame
Taking it all upon themselves
the weight of the world as a song
Carrying the sins or the goods therein
they solemnly plodded along
Even if she were a whore
With a visible moral sore:
The licentious from her jaw,
Largely The Deprived or poor,
A fool seeming to the core,
On all days A Bore
But broke A Toothless Law,
You mustn’t her on paper draw,
On her invective pour
Nor bang on her door…
These, a raising of dust and more,
For The Law silly defenses would floor.
The last war I saw
Was Crushing Eyesore
And I was dead sure
Man badly loves a chainsaw:
A film that lowered my lower jaw
I regarding the scenes from bare floor:
The crazy inclusion of Wasting Chainsaw,
With all its quartering strength and numbing awe
That Man’s Bestiality brought to the fore;
A peace move making a thing core
And bloodshed an “Exciting Bore”.
The last war I saw
In a friend’s filled store
Was worse than a whore
One sees and makes for a door!
I went in and Sioja was ready for me. Before we started I introduced myself and put the cash on the table. Pay before enjoying the goods. Sioja was orange skinned and had purple hair. It was all natural as was the third eye in the middle of her forehead. This was brilliant green and her normal eyes were dark brown. Her looks gave a startling contrast. Welcome after the strong blue sky and light brown desert.
Slaaag was a foul mouthed quick witted handy female. A cat fight was one of her specialities as was name calling and back stabbing. **** licking was another skill. What these things never achieved plain old seduction did.
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