Saturday, June 14, 2008
Butterday Night Fever
Butt soft, what ass through yonder window breaks?
Oh glutteous maximus buttocks of butt crunching delight. How dost though line up in front of so greasy a group of choadbuckets?
Six glorious butts.
Four greasy bungs.
Twelve award winning cheeks.
Four muscle bound freaks.
I would partake of those Butts I Am.
I’ve gone from Shakespeare riffs to Dr. Suess rhymes, all in less time then it would take me to hop across those butts like James Bond escaping from the crocodile pit in Live and Let Die.
