A true story (or so they say)
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The postman told me before he died He told me, his wife had a cunt so wide, and she was never satisfied And I couldn't find a reason to believe he lied But the postman knew he could do the trick with to copper balls and a 10 pound prick He built himself a prick of steel, The whole masterpiece was driven by a wheel The copper balls he filled with cream, the whole damn thing was driven by steam And up and up with the level of the steam And down and down with the level of the cream Enough, enough, enough she cried for she was finally satisfied And now we come to the tragic bit, for she was split from arse to tit.
If only closed minds would come with closed mouths. Ego non sum semper iustus tamen Ego sum nunquam nefas!
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The postman told me before he died He told me, his wife had a cunt so wide, and she was never satisfied And I couldn't find a reason to believe he lied But the postman knew he could do the trick with to copper balls and a 10 pound prick He built himself a prick of steel, The whole masterpiece was driven by a wheel The copper balls he filled with cream, the whole damn thing was driven by steam And up and up with the level of the steam And down and down with the level of the cream Enough, enough, enough she cried for she was finally satisfied And now we come to the tragic bit, for she was split from arse to tit.
If only closed minds would come with closed mouths. Ego non sum semper iustus tamen Ego sum nunquam nefas!
Ah, Celine Dion…or not.
There is only one Vera Farmiga and Salma Hayek is her prophet! Advertise here – minimum three posts per day are guaranteed.
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The postman told me before he died He told me, his wife had a cunt so wide, and she was never satisfied And I couldn't find a reason to believe he lied But the postman knew he could do the trick with to copper balls and a 10 pound prick He built himself a prick of steel, The whole masterpiece was driven by a wheel The copper balls he filled with cream, the whole damn thing was driven by steam And up and up with the level of the steam And down and down with the level of the cream Enough, enough, enough she cried for she was finally satisfied And now we come to the tragic bit, for she was split from arse to tit.
If only closed minds would come with closed mouths. Ego non sum semper iustus tamen Ego sum nunquam nefas!
You can find decent versions of all these 'rugby songs' here: Rugby Songs[^]. Includes the classic: Gather round all you whorey Gather round and hear this story. When a man rows old, & his balls grow cold And the tip of his prick turns blue, It bends in the middle like a 1 string fiddle He can tell you a tale or two. So pull up a chair, and stand me a drink And a tale to you I'll tell Of Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete, And a harlot called Eskimo Nell. When Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete Go forth in search of fun It's Dead-eye Dick that slings the prick And Mexican Pete the gun. When Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete Are sore, depressed and sad It's always a c**t that bears the brunt Bat the shooting ain't so bad. Now Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete Live down by Dead Man's Creek And such was their luck they'd had no f**k For nigh on half a week. Just a moose or two and a caribou, And a bison cow or so, And for Dead-eye Dick with his kingly prick This f**king was mighty slow. So do or dare this horny pair Set forth for the Rio Grande, Dead-eye Dick with his mighty prick And Pete with his gun in his hand. And as they blazed their noisy trail No man their path withstood, And many a bride, her husband's pride A pregnant widow stood. They reached the strand of the Rio Grande At the height of a blazing noon, And to slack their thirst and do their worst They sought Black Mike's Saloon. And as they pushed the great doors wide Both prick and gun flashed free. According to sex, you bleeding wrecks, You drink or f**k with me." They'd heard of Dead-eye Dick, From Maine to Panama So with scarcely worse than a muttered cur Those dagos sought the bar. The girls too knew his playful ways Down on the Rio Grande, And forty whores pulled down their drawer At Dead-eye Dick's command. They saw the fingers of Mexican Pete Itch on the trigger grip And they didn't wait, at fearful rate Those whores began to strip. Now Dead-eye Dick was breathing quick With lecherous snorts and grunts So forty arses were bared to view And likewise forty c**ts. Now forty c**ts and forty arses If you can use your wits, And if you're slick at arithmetic, Makes exactly eighty tits. Now eighty tits are a gladsome sight For a man with a raging stand It m
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You can find decent versions of all these 'rugby songs' here: Rugby Songs[^]. Includes the classic: Gather round all you whorey Gather round and hear this story. When a man rows old, & his balls grow cold And the tip of his prick turns blue, It bends in the middle like a 1 string fiddle He can tell you a tale or two. So pull up a chair, and stand me a drink And a tale to you I'll tell Of Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete, And a harlot called Eskimo Nell. When Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete Go forth in search of fun It's Dead-eye Dick that slings the prick And Mexican Pete the gun. When Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete Are sore, depressed and sad It's always a c**t that bears the brunt Bat the shooting ain't so bad. Now Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete Live down by Dead Man's Creek And such was their luck they'd had no f**k For nigh on half a week. Just a moose or two and a caribou, And a bison cow or so, And for Dead-eye Dick with his kingly prick This f**king was mighty slow. So do or dare this horny pair Set forth for the Rio Grande, Dead-eye Dick with his mighty prick And Pete with his gun in his hand. And as they blazed their noisy trail No man their path withstood, And many a bride, her husband's pride A pregnant widow stood. They reached the strand of the Rio Grande At the height of a blazing noon, And to slack their thirst and do their worst They sought Black Mike's Saloon. And as they pushed the great doors wide Both prick and gun flashed free. According to sex, you bleeding wrecks, You drink or f**k with me." They'd heard of Dead-eye Dick, From Maine to Panama So with scarcely worse than a muttered cur Those dagos sought the bar. The girls too knew his playful ways Down on the Rio Grande, And forty whores pulled down their drawer At Dead-eye Dick's command. They saw the fingers of Mexican Pete Itch on the trigger grip And they didn't wait, at fearful rate Those whores began to strip. Now Dead-eye Dick was breathing quick With lecherous snorts and grunts So forty arses were bared to view And likewise forty c**ts. Now forty c**ts and forty arses If you can use your wits, And if you're slick at arithmetic, Makes exactly eighty tits. Now eighty tits are a gladsome sight For a man with a raging stand It m
;)
Espen Harlinn Principal Architect, Software - Goodtech Projects & Services AS My LinkedIn Profile