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 Aug 2016
Edna Sweetlove
'Twas in the park one day
I met a chappie gay;
We went behind a bush
Where I saw his **** ****;
And I evinced a shock
When he took out his ****
(it was of such a size
it would have won a prize).

Now, so many years have passed
How many times we've arsed
Each other I don't know,
But each time we have a go
And watch each other come
Up an outsider's ***
We know our love is true
As we call out "OO! OO! OO!"
 Feb 2016
Edna Sweetlove
My dear old Granny,
How I shall miss her
What a tragedy.

She crossed over the road
To avoid walking under a ladder,
Being of a somewhat superstitous bent.

Thus she got squashed by a bus,
Like a plump ripe tomato
In spaghetti alla vongole.

So no more shall I have to suffer
Her slipping me the tongue
When I kiss her good night.

But the stench of her filthy farts
Will always remain with me
As will the cushion stains.
 Feb 2016
Edna Sweetlove
My sister boasted to me one night in a Liverpool pub
She had *** with a couple of coppers down the Mersey Tunnel.
'You're nothing bit a fat slapper' I scolded her,
As she examined the selfie I had taken
Just a few moments earlier of me
And her best friend up against the ladies' bog door.
"Good likeness, innit?" I commented and the
She farted stentoriously in surprise and,
The follow-through oozed down her dimpled thigh.
 Jan 2016
Edna Sweetlove
Night falls over Soho and, gazing into some cheap ****'s eyes
Over a candelit-chequered-food-stained tablecloth,
Beneath my belt an immense ******* lurks leakily,
The seams of my ****** soaked with bursting lust,
My groin twitching in desire for her wanton ****-flesh.

Streetlight shining through threadbare curtains
Glinting sexily over my hairy pounding buttocks;
My screamed roars of pleasure echoing
In the deepest depths of her tenth-rate mind;
Her poor brain collapsing in mighty mid-******.

Morning reveals a classy scene to chambermaid's gawp:
Spread-legged cold-as-chilled-salami ****,
Puny brainbox imploded like mashed bananas
By staggering rivulets of overpowering *******
Like a duck's entrails in an unwashed sink.
 Jan 2016
Edna Sweetlove
We had a really fat bird in the morgue last week;
We had to put two tables together
Just to accommodate her bloated mass
And the funeral director said
She'd need a specially reinforced coffin
And a flatbed truck instead of a hearse.

By the way, I think I should debunk
That legend about fat chicks appreciating it more;
She just lay there, like all of the others,
No sign of gratitude what-so-*******-ever.
 Jan 2016
Edna Sweetlove
Stick your thumb
Up your ***.
When it's brown,
Pull it down.
Show it all
Around the town.
 Jan 2016
Edna Sweetlove
O Sweet Edna, how can I forget thee!
So beautifully named after the daughter of Count Telfener,
Promoter of the Macaroni railroad,
Home of the monumental Edna Theater (SEE NOTE # BELOW).

I recall a chilly Christmas spent there:
Unfortunately Edna was closed for the day
But I met a nice girl in the one bar that was open
And for only twenty five bucks she went all the way.

By purest chance her name was Edna too,
And she gave me a real Christmas treat;
I could so easily have fallen for her bigtime
Had it not been for the smell of her size twelve feet.

O how your architectural marvels will live in my memory
Dear principal "city" of Jackson County, O Edna divine!
Home to six thousand Texan souls
Of whom only one in five lives below the poverty line.

NOTE:-

(#) Actually a cinema and disused anyway. Paste this link for a photo: http://media1.picsearch.com/is?hWN6taRELewhHHMx-FMVpQOXSK4aNdmtABXGB-ZxEyA&height;=257 (if it doesn't work, don't blame me).
This is written as a tribute to the so-called "city" of Edna, into which I stumbled one chilly Christmas Eve.  The City of Edna is rightly proud of two of its illustrious sons and daughters: "Stone Cold" Steve Austin (professional wrestler) and Juanita Slusher (alias Candy Barr), the famous American burlesque dancer, adult magazine model and stripper.

Mr Austin perfected his trademark finishing maneuvre, the Stone Cold Stunner, to win the "King of the Ring" tournament in 1996. After defeating Jake "The Snake" Roberts, a born-again Christian, Stone Cold  said "You sit there and you thump your Bible, and you say your prayers, and it didn't get you anywhere! Talk about your Psalms, talk about John 3:16... Austin 3:16 says I just whipped your ***!".

During the 1950s Candy received nationwide attention for her stripping career in Dallas, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas and for her troubles with the law (including shooting her second husband; and for serving three years in jail for drug possession). In the early 1980s, Candy was presciently acknowledged in the magazine Texas Monthly as a "perfect Texan".

I was lucky only to meet Fat Edna.

As a hint of the high standards you may expect when you visit Edna, here's a review of a "hotel" from TripAdvisor.com...
"When the door was unlocked to our room, I was appalled by the infestation of insects. The were on every surface, including the ceiling, walls, floors, bathroom and tub. The furnishings were vintage 1960s, broken and filthy. There were cobwebs and food cooked unto the microwave. The owner tried to accomodate us by showing us other rooms. All were equally infested and had the same horrid furnishings."  

Choice, totally choice..
 Jan 2016
Edna Sweetlove
Have you ever visited a public *******
When you were really bursting for a dung
And sadly found the only cubicle
Was vile and ill-prepared to meet your needs,
Its stench beyond your wildest nightmare dread?

And yet you bravely held your breath and looking
Down into the cracked, caked enamel bowl
Beheld a horrid, putrid panful there,
The likes of which you never dreamed you'd find
And live to tell the ******* tale to mortal man.

About a hundred people's lurking turds
All heaped and piled up to the very brim,
Some soft and runny, squashed down by the weight
Of countless others, some smudged with blood
Lying there like half-cooked hamburgers.

And there was barely ******* space in the pan
For you to add a steaming trio of your own
To the rancid, obscene horrors lurking there
As you crouched, puking, with your ******* round your ankles
Terrified in case they fell onto the ****-swamped floor.

And you noticed with your reeling senses
That there wasn't any ****** paper either,
Nor had there been for many a long day
Judging from the walls' awesome sorry state
All covered in ****** brown elevens. (SEE NOTE BELOW)
NOTE re "Brown elevens" - just visualise how.........

11 11 11 11 11

might have found their way onto the wall.........................
 Nov 2015
Edna Sweetlove
Her suicide left a loneliness
only partly ameliorated by
a good *******
with her bereaved Mum
up both gaping holes.
 Nov 2015
Edna Sweetlove
Let me tell you a true story of tragic love;
And you had better believe it, for there's no lie.
'Twas on the Isle of Kos that I met Helga one day,
Sitting in a taverna, sipping an ouzo.
I sat down and we soon exchanged a word or two,
Flirting and teasing 'til the sun sank in the sea.
I suggested a walk on the beach (subtle move)
Which is when I received a nice little surprise.
She stood up in all her glory and then I found
That she was well over a eighteen inches shorter than my humble self,
A genuine short-**** with a prosthetic leg to boot
Which promised me something rather special.

Nothing put out, we ended up in my bedroom
And I shoved my hot tongue right up her angelic ****.
"Did you like that?" I enquired (a gent as always)
"It was repulsive," she replied with a slight sneer.
And when we woke up together the next bright morn
I found she had vomited on my bedside jeans,
Before leaving me alone on the encrusted sheets.
Unfortunately the jeans shrunk a bit when I washed the puke out
And their exquisite tightness on my private parts
Reminded me for several days of this amorous encounter.

Was her criticism of my oral skills her unusual Norwegian humour?
Perhaps she really meant to call me her Übermensch?
Maybe it was sarcasm and got lost in translation
So stimulated was she post-orgasmically.
One horrid thought still remains - she might have meant it
(after all, as Nietzsche once said so observantly
"in revenge and in love woman is more barbarous than man.").
And thus I am left with confused memories of that night:
Her face was that of blond angel but her tongue was sharp
And it really was a crying shame about her leg-stump
Which wept slightly.
 Oct 2015
Edna Sweetlove
O, to be in dear Petronella
Now that Spring is here!
But alas, poor lass, she is no more,
Bereft of life, dead and gone,
Breathing through the grass,
O woe, O woe are we,
The fat ****'s snuffed it.

No more will I and my friends
Ardent admirers all
(by the rancid cartload),
Feel her horrid toothless gums
Slurp their lascivious path of glory
Across our bloated obesities,
******* and slobbering,
Muttering sweetest nothings
Through mangled, matted pubics.

No more shall we feel her body
Groaning under every butch ******,
Uttering imprecations of desire.
However one consolation is ours:
We who remain behind on earth
Can have undisputed use of the giant *******
And will no longer need to cleanse it
Following Petronella's awful misuse thereof.

These horrid thoughts came to me
As in a terrible, foetid nightmare;
And I dreamed I saw Petronella's grave
Bedecked with flowers and phlegm;
And the holy angels sang overhead,
"It's an ill wind that blows
Out of the back passage
Once it's been ****** good and hard".
 Sep 2015
Edna Sweetlove
Whilst walking down the street
I heard a thunderous tweet;
'Twas a straining little bird
Who couldn't pass a ****.

The little thing was constipated,
Its **** wide dilated;
Tweeting loudly in mid-bog,
Trying to eject a log.

I observed with sympathetic heart
As it trumpeted out a ****;
Straining, chirping loud and long,
Letting off a foul and noisome pong.

I watched for nigh an hour
Its display of **** power;
Then a final intestinal pump
Produced a huge great steaming lump:

A mighty ball of faeces
(a giant of its species,
and total bumhole splitter
which shattered its feathered *******).
 Feb 2015
Edna Sweetlove
I met this **** chick at the entrance to the cinema
and we agreed to sit in the back row
[after all I bought her ****** ticket
so the little **** knew what was expected]
and when the house lights went down
and the couple next door started
mauling each other's mouths seriously
she unzipped my pink satin trousers
and took out the first six inches
of my mighty ***** of generation
and gave it a spectacular *******
until I shot off into her dribbling cakehole
and then I could enjoy the film
without very much extraneous distraction
[apart from the antics of the couple next door
as they were in their eighties at least
judging from their heavy breathing
and from the time it took them to come,
just like a slow train juddering into
a suburban station on Christmas Eve].
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