Monday, April 27, 2009

Muttonchop Finds Love


I believe it was the great poet Robert Frost who once versed:

‘Ere though I walk through a summer’s eve,…
That smells as douchey as muttonchop’s sleeve,…
Lo! Hark, behold a hott,…
She kisses Muttonchop and becomes infected by the Grieco Virus, only to mutate into a douchebaguette, although her boobs are tasty regardless.

I’m paraphrasing, the actual Frost poem may have been slightly different.

# posted by douchebag1

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