>oh look, user is here.
>why dont you read us one of your poems, i saw you writing verse the other day.
Oh look, user is here
>Implying women would ever initiate conversation with me
T-Thanks, this is a piece I wrote called Ode to Schopenhauer
how is it possible for a room to have so many unfuckable women in it
It just has to be a room in England.
I repeat: I am NOT rich. So, stop pretending to like what I like to generate emotional links between us so you can suck my dick and then my money, whores.
Limerick, limerick,
Gimerick, schtimerick,
How does your garden grow?
With teeth like a mare,
I will fuck your face fair,
And leave your nose riddled with snow.
Limerick, limerick,
Gimerick, schtimerick,
Set forth from your brazen ways.
Rip out those big tits,
And bounce them on my bits,
You can pump me for days and days.
Limerick, limerick,
Gimerick, schtimerick,
Like a herd of young cows in the yard.
I'll take more than some,
Salty milk makes me cum,
I'm a sensitive man and I'm hard.
>implying the spaghetti wont fill the room after the 1st verse
exactly.
Please enjoy this little something I've been working on. It's titled Five Inches:
Five
Inches is
A handful
Five
Inches is
A mouthful
Five
Inches is
A buttful
Five
Inches is
A gashful
Five
Inches is
Plenty.