Text 3182, 164 rader
Skriven 2005-12-04 23:08:28 av Greg Sears (3:633/104)
     Kommentar till en text av George Pope
Ärende: Re: Few More Shorties
=============================
             -=> George Pope wrote to all <=-

 GP> We have done it many ways

               A Dieter's Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips
were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care
in hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.

While Mama in her my girdle and I in chin straps
had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash
tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.
The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow
sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear:
a marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick
I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.

The sweet-coated santa, those sugared reindeer
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS
a Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.

From the top of the scales to the top of the hall
now dash away pounds now dash away all.
Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress
my clothes were all bulging from too much excess.

My droll little mouth and my round little belly
they shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
I spoke not a word but went straight to my work
ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.

And laying a finger beside my heartburn
I gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned.
I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry
if temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by.

And I mumbled again as I turned for the night
in the morning I'll starve... 'til I take that first bite!


> OBX-mas for our Moderator and all-round friend/servant

                        Christmas In The Corps

T'was the night before Christmas
and all the the Corps
Not a sole had liberty,
the troops were all sore.

Yes, every Marine
every Marine in the lot
was lying on a rack of nails
called a Marine Corps Cot.

When out on the Parade Deck
I heard such a clatter,
I sprang from my cot
to see what the hell was the matter.

With bayonet in hand
I moved stealthily to the door
I cautiously waited to see
if there were more.

Yes, it was the Commandant of Marines
this there was no doubt
he was wearing his poncho
green side out.

He carefully moved from rack to rack
he cautiously inspected each rifle and pack
to a chosen few a 96 chit
but to the majority a ration of s*it

As he pulled away in his gold plated tank
pulled by ten colonels all bucking for rank
I heard him say, and he said with a shot
Merry Christmas you *uckers you'll never get out.


> OBX-mas for Mr. <+]::-) ("Cyberpope")

'Twas the night before Christmas, and boy was it neat.
The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat.
   The doors were all bolted, the phone off the hook,
It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.
   Momma in her teddy and I in the nude,
Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube.
   When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,
That I lost my boner, and momma went dry.
   Up to the window I sprang like an elf,
Tore back the shade while she played with herself.
   The moon on the crest of the snowman we'd built,
Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.
   When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.
   With a fat little driver, half out of the sled,
A sock in his ear and a bra on his head.
   Sure as I'm speaking, he was high as a kite,
And he yelled to his team, but it didn't sound right.
   Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz,
Either slow down this rig or I'll cut off your nuts.
   Look out for the lamp post, and don't hit the tree,
Quit shaking the sleigh, 'cause I gotta go pee.
   They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,
Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.
   And then from the roof we heard such a clatter,
As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.
   I was donning my jocked, to cover my ass,
When down the chimmney Santa came with a crash.
   His suit was al smelly with perfume galore,
He looked like a bum and smelled like a whore.
   "That was some brothel," he said with a smile,
"The reindeer are pooped, and I'll just stay awhile"
   He walked to the kitchen for himself poured a drink,
Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.
   I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee,
The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.
   Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,
But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.
   The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,
The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.
   A box filled with condoms was Santa's next find,
And six pair of panties, the edible kind.
   A bra without nipples, a penis extension,
And several more things I shouldn't even mention.
   A f*** ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,
And a dildo so long that it lay in a coil.
   "This stuff ain't for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit,
So I'll leave 'em here, and then I'll just split."
   He filled every stocking and then took his leave,
With one tiny butt plug stuck under his sleeve.
   He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,
Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.
   In time he was seated, took reigns of his hitch,
Saying,"Take me home, Rudolf. This night's been a bitch!"
   The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,
"The best thing about pussy is you can't wear it out!!"

         M E R R Y   C H R I S T M A S



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