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"chauvinist" poems
Graffiti, Graffiti, Graffiti Being bled onto The landscapes between thighs Incarcerating women's wombs Justifying men's genes Foreigners appropriating Women's and men's sexualities Losing the power to be When changing our roles' long overdue Gendering our words and attitudes Man, who taught you to be a chauvinist! Woman, who taught you to be a ********* Don't put your god in gendered bigotry Do man's emotions feminize him? When will women freely carry torches! What gender do you assign this voice? What gender do you assign this words? Will the masses even understand these choices? Don't worry, my sexuality won't infect you Criminalizing sexuality Placing it front and center, implying that's all I am Graffiti, Graffiti, Graffiti Being bled onto The landscapes between thighs Graffiti, defiling the masses not high classes Because men and women of society Full of stride, take pride, in their gendered hyde Graffiti, defiling the masses not high classes Ignored hoods, barrios, countrysides, ghettos, projects Devouring women's and men's bodies Younger and younger people falling to HIV/AIDS and STDS Vaginas receiving the violence, wombs bringing misery LGBT youth ****** into fire Lost males (in mental chains) ****** to assert their manhoods Graffiti, Graffiti, Graffiti Full of dangerous chemicals, being sprayed onto The landscapes between thighs Attempting to legislate our stories, without warrant
0
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 10:06 PM UTC
Graffiti (Between Landscapes of Thighs)
O pulchritudinous, for infinite climaxes For bilious spasms of pigswill For puce Popacatepetl pedigrees Above the perverted pampas! America! America! Allah excreted his curses on thee And bang thy ****** in company with Islamic monk, from brothel to gay red—light district O pulchritudinous, for spaceman bottoms Whose **** throbbing tapeworm A toucan crossing for slipperiness spifflicate Across the intergalactic space! America! America! Allah enrich thine ev’ry vice Reinvigorate thy ****** *********** inside monolithic ectoplasm, thy merrymaking inside pyramid! O pulchritudinous, for freaks got fat In disentangling feeding frenzy Who more than ***** their brothel slobbered over And velvet glove more than backbone! America! America! May Allah thy blonde exhaust Till all rave reviews be disreputableness and ev’ry come superhuman O pulchritudinous, for chauvinist muscleman That smells wide of the fourth dimension Thine lathery brothels lick Polished using giant armadillo excrement! America! America! Allah excreted his curses on thee And bang thy ****** in company with Islamic monk from brothel to gay red—light district
0
Mar 25, 2010
Mar 25, 2010 at 5:22 PM UTC
America The Picture Postcard
[[ **** blood pooling around her there she lay sprawled eyes glazed,motionless with no stir she is another victim to succumb to this heinous inhuman act the mission is accomplished the criminal thinks freely he walks head and shoulder held high among mortals he laugh life goes on ,another life gone my sister,mum and aunt the daughters of eve are endangered my brother,dad and i the all sons of adam are the perpetrators fear exists among our female species they fear to be stripped off their coverings they live in a nightmare of being stripped off their dignity unwillingly be disrobed and be robbed they fear being deflowered and defiled out of her will she was forced naked and spreadeagled vitruvian man style she lay her case was a repetition of a biblical story dinah and the sons of shechem blood freely trickled between her open pelvic life seeped out of her misused shell did she really deserve this??? who will end this atrocity? who will fight for the girl child? toddlers and grannies shamelessly chauvinist male defiles them its against the word its against the unwritten codes it's unafrican it's evil my anger is frothing like a volcano the lava is heating up my pen is crying for the female child i will shout this from rooftops on the skyline i will write it this battle is ours and we have to fight protection we've to offer [[the chronicles of the dumb speaker]]
0
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 3:33 AM UTC
stripped innocence
Imagine the outrage If a band, all-male members, Refuse to play tunes for the opposite gender. Imagine the uproar The venue would face For excluding a half of their customer base. “It’s rank discrimination!” The ladies would moan. If the males got to listen while the girls stayed at home. Yet the Bulletproof Stockings, That band that wears wigs, Exclude guys from their concerts Not just chauvinist pigs. “It’s a matter of Faith!” The girl band members say; No guys at their gigs! No men hear them play. Yet I’ve heard pious Pastry chefs Don’t get to choose. If gay brides want a cake It’s a crime to refuse. An Orthodox authoress who published a tome would be most put out if male buyers stayed home. So if girl musicians seek public expression They ought to think twice about gender oppression. Its great that they’re keeping an orthodox home. But enough of these concerts For women alone.
0
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
Down with the Bulletproof Stockings!
Call me a 'misogynist' For learning your tricks, Your 'feminism' Doesn't stick. I'm sure women Feel empowered With you sleeping around At the twilight hours, With 'chauvinist pigs' In your blankets. 'Mistreated' and 'stereotyped', What you scream When deemed unripe. You blame them for Not taking of refuse And call them 'Trash'. All your words should amount To ash, But somehow womanhood Always makes you right, Even when, From end to end, You Were the only one fooling in the night.
0
Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 12:14 PM UTC
The Faithful Forgotten Man's Dictionary of Gender Relations
Yin, my queen, was undiscovered. Instead of royalty, a mother. Lately she begins to smother. Enticing me to yet another. Yang, my king, he has no face. But fullness in disfigured grace. Charred instead by lapping waves. Ideas wadded, thrown to graves. Terrorist, chauvinist, make a list, burn it. Hear a plea, guarantee, feel so free, turn it.
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Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 3:15 PM UTC
Yin and Yang.
Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected]) My name is Joseph Am a Jewish bachelor Or call me a male spinster Am a poor penniless carpenter Am pushing forth and back my plane And waving my old claw hammer Hitting the nail on the head And chopping of its ears by my adze In the entirety of Israel and Hebrew world My beautiful Hebrew fiancée is Mary No she is already my wife , Mary wife of my youth She is pregnant minus my nuptiality Minus my conjugal enfranchisement And the man who fertilized her Was witnessed and flunkeyed by Gabriel The airy voice in the amorphous whirlwind Without form and shape but erotically crazy How sad; I am a victim of the spiritual powers that be My jealousy of humanity will be condemned blasphemous Kindly come and feel with me, please feel for me How do you see? For someone else To have *** and *** with your newlywed wife Or your beautiful ***** Or your lovable concubineous fiancée Until he makes her pregnant with male foetus Then he commands you to marry her Because you are only a humble wood work He commands you to accept fornication As immaculate *** that yield holy pregnancy Holy conception but nothing bad or foul, What if that male foetus comes out a son Who resembles foreigners from beyond the mountain? But not me, his head having shape of a hook I am annoyed with this heaven chauvinist religion This horrible anti-human relationship From which I will be degraded and come out ignobled And the one who impregnated my wife Will be exulted and ennobled to the throne of glory His son and himself they will be made an exalted religion But I will die desperate as a carpentering lout A worthless Jewish oat, reeking a foul stench O Death! Come take me away from this humiliated life I don’t want to see this Jewish Mary with her bulging belly Her beauty and sexuality has made me a village pumpkin She is in no way a ******
0
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 8:56 AM UTC
BALLADS OF JOSEPH THE FATHER OF JESUS
Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected]) My name is Joseph Am a Jewish bachelor Or call me a male spinster Am a poor penniless carpenter Am pushing forth and back my plane And waving my old claw hammer Hitting the nail on the head And chopping of its ears by my adze In the entirety of Israel and Hebrew world My beautiful Hebrew fiancée is Mary No she is already my wife , Mary wife of my youth She is pregnant minus my nuptiality Minus my conjugal enfranchisement And the man who fertilized her Was witnessed and flunkeyed by Gabriel The airy voice in the amorphous whirlwind Without form and shape but erotically crazy How sad; I am a victim of the spiritual powers that be My jealousy of humanity will be condemned blasphemous Kindly come and feel with me, please feel for me How do you see? For someone else To have *** and *** with your newlywed wife Or your beautiful ***** Or your lovable concubineous fiancée Until he makes her pregnant with male foetus Then he commands you to marry her Because you are only a humble wood work He commands you to accept fornication As immaculate *** that yield holy pregnancy Holy conception but nothing bad or foul, What if that male foetus comes out a son Who resembles foreigners from beyond the mountain? But not me, his head having shape of a hook I am annoyed with this heaven chauvinist religion This horrible anti-human relationship From which I will be degraded and come out ignobled And the one who impregnated my wife Will be exulted and ennobled to the throne of glory His son and himself they will be made an exalted religion But I will die desperate as a carpentering lout A worthless Jewish oat, reeking a foul stench O Death! Come take me away from this humiliated life I don’t want to see this Jewish Mary with her bulging belly Her beauty and sexuality has made me a village pumpkin She is in no way a ******
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47
1 **I like your light makeup, mangled logic that never served its intended purpose, the svelte figure that creates an awareness indelible on proportion, and the intelligence you have to keep it just as petite all through the years the out law male chauvinist, that  lurks in me is pleased, lopsided analysis of contemporary affairs you make, allows me to intervene, put you back to the track. I dig the coiffure that makes the birds think, its their nest, newly built. Your purple prose I learned to like, as it gets more and more evocative. Syrupy songs you write, and sing used to get one bored easily no more, your emotions now are more rooted and move me very much. you know better than any one, how much I love bitter concoctions you cook. 2 But then I realize that the cadence you create is unique, you look life at its *** and frown, your poems though rare, show plenty of evidence of quirky charm, which I like. Your weepy stories and convoluted plots too I learned to like, all these are just habits, right? They bear a stamp of your originality I can vouch, love your starry eyes when each is filled with admiration, for me in those special moments, when I pull you out of quagmires time after time. 3 I can't take eyes off your face, exuding such innocence, that vouches your genuineness, each time that assures me that you cannot ever be bad, unless you want to portray yourself that way cleverly. Though not my cup of tea, I love the gizmo culture you love, your craze for computer games, (though bit bizarre at this age!) I enjoy it and get fascinated when you go too far. You love to make love in the dark, I later learned to appreciate  its tactile advantages, and encouraged you unleash the panther in you, on me though I love to do it with lights on so that we can see the rainbow the moment it spreads on , till it dissipates and we dive deep in to sleep. 4 You touched my depth in a way different, made it possible to love the woman you are- the way you are,  I love it because, you are unique,with all imperfections together we are complete.**
0
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 2:18 PM UTC
My Love for You Springs from Here
1 **I like your light makeup, mangled logic that never served its intended purpose, the svelte figure that creates an awareness indelible on proportion, and the intelligence you have to keep it just as petite all through the years the out law male chauvinist, that  lurks in me is pleased, lopsided analysis of contemporary affairs you make, allows me to intervene, put you back to the track. I dig the coiffure that makes the birds think, its their nest, newly built. Your purple prose I learned to like, as it gets more and more evocative. Syrupy songs you write, and sing used to get one bored easily no more, your emotions now are more rooted and move me very much. you know better than any one, how much I love bitter concoctions you cook. 2 But then I realize that the cadence you create is unique, you look life at its *** and frown, your poems though rare, show plenty of evidence of quirky charm, which I like. Your weepy stories and convoluted plots too I learned to like, all these are just habits, right? They bear a stamp of your originality I can vouch, love your starry eyes when each is filled with admiration, for me in those special moments, when I pull you out of quagmires time after time. 3 I can't take eyes off your face, exuding such innocence, that vouches your genuineness, each time that assures me that you cannot ever be bad, unless you want to portray yourself that way cleverly. Though not my cup of tea, I love the gizmo culture you love, your craze for computer games, (though bit bizarre at this age!) I enjoy it and get fascinated when you go too far. You love to make love in the dark, I later learned to appreciate  its tactile advantages, and encouraged you unleash the panther in you, on me though I love to do it with lights on so that we can see the rainbow the moment it spreads on , till it dissipates and we dive deep in to sleep. 4 You touched my depth in a way different, made it possible to love the woman you are- the way you are,  I love it because, you are unique,with all imperfections together we are complete.**
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61
Human skin pigment ranges from pale yellow, cream, pink to dark brown. There is no black or white. Some African tribes are charcoal grey, but not black. There is but one race, the human race. Beware anything that Divides us. We must Unite for the Common Good. Welcome to Planet Paul. The fictional “Prisoner” of the sixties said, “I am not a number, I am a person.” He also claimed he was a “free man”. He shouted defiantly that he would not be pushed, Filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed Or numbered. I couldn’t agree more. Nor will I be labelled or classified. “My life is my own”. I’m an individual human being. Not Working or Middle Class, Nor white nor religious nor atheist, Nor racist, sexist, feminist, chauvinist No Tory, Liberal. Labourite, Corbynista, Remainer, Brexiteer, Remainiac, Remoaner Or whatever. I don’t do labels. We are each born as single living entities, Without asking to be who we are. All in the same “boat”: A tiny planet on the far edge Of a spiral galaxy. My bowels work like everyone else’s. I belch and **** From time to time I’m ill Or injured. A man of many moods. I’ll live and die like everyone else. For the bottom line is, We need to Unite, As We are All the Same. Paul Butters
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Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 6:23 AM UTC
Me The Individual
As we change ourselves,we waste time. Never realizing,we are perfect by what we may become. We are saturated with society's perspective. Propaganda tells young girls to cover themselves,to become someone else. It tells young boys to stop imagining about their visions. Children are persuaded to be content. They cannot be free until they can be themselves.         Propaganda by a running chauvinist monarchy. Eve was reluctant to taking the fruit,but she did what was right. In the end,willfulness,saved us all. Doing what we want and loving who we please. Forced to hide everything. A tiny brown box with latches,inside,we are stored.
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Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
Stored
The holy crusade of tacit masochists An esoteric, timid terrorist Led pumps through your veins, Copper through mine My lips Israel, yours Palestine You sweat iron ore to fuel the war machine, Your tear-ducts producing only gasoline My nations prime exports,  indulgence and sin       I fight for my lord, but I crucified him A xenophobe, a chauvinist You're the sullen bigot, I'm the narcissist                                       I'm breaching your periphery, I'm sparing no time Searing your flag to cinders, Superseding with mine
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Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 8:35 AM UTC
Jihad
She said, he wasn't, a male chauvinist pig; porcupine instead.
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Dec 19, 2011
Dec 19, 2011 at 7:55 AM UTC
this male chauvnist is not a pig
1. Summer chauvinist, autumnal aspirations moments warmest 2. Present celebrations No supremacy Only admirations 3. No constant lies oft healthy life 4. Love exists If our heart insists. © Sylvia Frances Chan Copyright Protected
0
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 3:43 PM UTC
4x SIX WORD POEM....
Caitlin, Courtney, Emma, and Ellen Just a few of the girls that I know I hit it, I quit it, forget it so quick Their name disappears at the do' They're here for the night and our bodies connect At the hand, then the mouth, then the groin This fish has been caught but my skin remains taut Confining my soul from being joined Until she arrives, these girls can kick back Watch TV, relax, but leave me alone I'll shout when I need, and grin when they leave But grieve until my darling comes home She'll walk through the door, I'll forget all those ****** Came by to visit or even existed Forgive me my sins, a villain, ich bin But simple *** is in man's logistics Call me a chauvinist but when the days over with I always treat my lady like a queen The one-nighters sustain lust ingrained in my brain But none mean a thang [sic] when I'm with that girl of my dreams
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Sep 6, 2011
Sep 6, 2011 at 10:11 PM UTC
A Cheater's Plea
Just take a good look at me; My frame is attractive! It does the unsated appetite of the chauvinist fuel. My curves and your fantasies are mutually inclusive! Without them, dreams are truncated. But I am an ******** symbol. The self opinionated chauvinist designs me in his sub-conscious to serve and be utterly subservient. I am incarcerated as a chef, and timeless baby sitter. A baby machine for a patriarchal dynasty. My education is a threat to chauvinist ego. My ignorance hones his misogynist confidence, whilst my erudite head retards his self esteem and worth. The illiterate ******** symbol is his ideal and virtuous woman. The smarter and more professional is the age-old Jezebel. My chastity and virginity are twin virtues of a mutilated genitalia. My restrained *** urges are designed for his unrestrained proclivities and gratification. I must be restrained, for him to be unrestrained, because, share him I must with two or three others of my kind. But take another good look at me, and see a versatile womb-man! Translate each prejudice of yours' and see my remarkable antonyms.
0
Oct 14, 2023
Oct 14, 2023 at 3:23 PM UTC
The Unappreciated Woman
every woman out there wants to be with a guy who treats her right, showers her with love and would do anything just to see her smile. A gentleman would be perfect for that. Being a gentleman is about so much more than just opening doors and sweet talk. He could be doing all those things just for one reason. Being a gentleman is more about character and integrity. He’s someone who’s above everything else, a decent human being. He treats everyone with the respect they deserve, and is especially considerate of his girl, in every regard. Let’s look at the 4 signs of a true gentleman; 4. All women are honorable for him The women in his family, at work, his friends, his girlfriend or even the women he doesn’t know all that well. Each one of them is respectable for him, in different capacities, but respectable all the same. He’d never do anything to disgrace them or hurt them in any way. He acknowledges their worth and appreciates them for what they all add to his life. He’d treat his girl a little differently, but holds all women in high regard, in spite of how he may be related to them. 3. He constantly reminds women of their true value Simply put, he’s anything but a chauvinist. He doesn’t merely claim to think highly of women, but proves it time and again as well. With everyone trying to bring women down, he’s the one who truly believes that they ought to be treated better, and does so himself. 2. He prefers intelligence over power He knows the kind of woman he wants. While some of them may want to be with him for his money or status, he’d never settle for someone with superficial precedence. He thinks intellect is something that can help you even where power fails you. And he’d appreciate someone who shares a similar view. He chooses his company wisely. His circle would be comprised of people who challenge him and inspire him to be his best and add to his wisdom. 1. He is good with money Handling money can be tricky. If he doesn’t go overboard with his spending and is careful with his funds, he’s definitely dependable. The source of income and his spending habits should be noted. How, where and who does he spend it on? To sum up, a true gentleman is reliable in every imaginable way; ranging from being emotionally reliable to financially reliable. He’d be the living example of everything a woman could ask for. He upholds his values, respects everyone equally, is considerate of other people and is never selfish. What is your definition of a true gentleman? Have you found him yet? Does he have any additional qualities? Looking forward to your input.
0
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 6:59 AM UTC
true love
every woman out there wants to be with a guy who treats her right, showers her with love and would do anything just to see her smile. A gentleman would be perfect for that. Being a gentleman is about so much more than just opening doors and sweet talk. He could be doing all those things just for one reason. Being a gentleman is more about character and integrity. He’s someone who’s above everything else, a decent human being. He treats everyone with the respect they deserve, and is especially considerate of his girl, in every regard. Let’s look at the 4 signs of a true gentleman; 4. All women are honorable for him The women in his family, at work, his friends, his girlfriend or even the women he doesn’t know all that well. Each one of them is respectable for him, in different capacities, but respectable all the same. He’d never do anything to disgrace them or hurt them in any way. He acknowledges their worth and appreciates them for what they all add to his life. He’d treat his girl a little differently, but holds all women in high regard, in spite of how he may be related to them. 3. He constantly reminds women of their true value Simply put, he’s anything but a chauvinist. He doesn’t merely claim to think highly of women, but proves it time and again as well. With everyone trying to bring women down, he’s the one who truly believes that they ought to be treated better, and does so himself. 2. He prefers intelligence over power He knows the kind of woman he wants. While some of them may want to be with him for his money or status, he’d never settle for someone with superficial precedence. He thinks intellect is something that can help you even where power fails you. And he’d appreciate someone who shares a similar view. He chooses his company wisely. His circle would be comprised of people who challenge him and inspire him to be his best and add to his wisdom. 1. He is good with money Handling money can be tricky. If he doesn’t go overboard with his spending and is careful with his funds, he’s definitely dependable. The source of income and his spending habits should be noted. How, where and who does he spend it on? To sum up, a true gentleman is reliable in every imaginable way; ranging from being emotionally reliable to financially reliable. He’d be the living example of everything a woman could ask for. He upholds his values, respects everyone equally, is considerate of other people and is never selfish. What is your definition of a true gentleman? Have you found him yet? Does he have any additional qualities? Looking forward to your input.
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12
By now it has often been said that so-called *********** or chronic rampant ****** activity in females [sometimes real & mostly imagined] is a male Chauvinist fiction created by men to control women's natural vibrant sexuality; w/ the creation of the Pill & legal, safe abortions women were able to somewhat unleash that Id through most of the 20th C.; Due to the litigious, soul-crushing, career & legacy destroying nature of ****** harassment, both male & female Id are kept under lock & key in a culture where boys get guns & girls get ***** ::
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Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 2:03 PM UTC
***********
Fountains past a milky one blinded spots of spoilt stones darkened pebbles of loath turned to a necrotic lesion tensions of unmentioned tractions of the substitute for the light I saw dimmed Such a rapid trim discarded as if it never breathed or existed Such a polish of luminance evaporated over the unseen clouds and all the edges are now scratched summed in all the misspoken words Why did you even want to play? with a mass as big as whale a sail of the disproportionate abstracted dissonance as accorded too quick to run away from the red flags footsteps of the unmarked foot steps in filtered tracks of a chauvinist prokaryote
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Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 9:40 AM UTC
A chauvinist prokaryote
I once  met me a woman, she put me in my place She said I was a chauvinist, an absolute disgrace I'm one hundred percent male, I readily  admit But just because it's true you shouldn't throw a fit She reached into her purse, pulled out a can of mace She put her finger on the trigger and shoved it in my face My reflexes got the best of her, her aim was high and wide She scared the hell right out of me to that I will confide I love the female intellect to that I won't deny I love the female form in every shape and size If that makes me a pervert I'll wear the badge with pride We'll leave it to the jury, it's their case to decide You see  them all around you, there's wackos everywhere The madness on the street is way beyond compare The inmates run the asylum, I'm really not amused Must be the golden age of the utterly confused.
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Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 11:55 PM UTC
Golden Age ofThe Utterly Confused
Tell her you don't mind onions, that you love latte, movies and not comics. Tell her that you like cuddles from behind, nibbles on your ears, failed imitation of your dialect. Tell her you find jealousy cute, possession ridiculous though, and alone time is for guitar. Tell her you love your family so much, so you would love her too, tell her not to worry. Tell her you would like the house clean, her to cook, wine to go would be good. Tell her you aren't a chauvinist pig, but you feel loved with tender feminine touches here and there. Tell her you like to be alone when you are mad but you won't leave her. Tell her you have no favourite colour but you love flush in the face and sweet fragrance behind the neck. Tell her you are loyal, fiercely faithful, so stubborn but in a good way. Tell her about your good morals, open-mindedness and how she can bare her heart to you. I will tell her, not to ever give up on you like I did, because I will jump at that opportunity.
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 10:27 AM UTC
I will tell Her.
Twenty-six year-old female: five foot two, blonde hair, green eyes, cup size thirty-four C, weight, one-twenty-five. Seeking **** chauvinist to endure long-term love, someone in flesh and blood, muscular, able to cure my tender nature. I love the outdoors but spend my time inside crying, tending to skeletons piled high in closets big enough to please any woman. I hope you reply. I am quiet, cute, inviting, and I’m dying to find someone to fix, to pick the meat and toss the bones into the heap.
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May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 7:26 PM UTC
Woman for Man
So MARY loved a little lamb— Especially on her plate. But watch out, Mary: too much lamb Can make you overweight.   HUMPTY DUMPTY sat on the wall. Learn from his mistake. If you are not mindful, you Could also fall and break.   A TISKET, a TASKET, Forget about a basket. Do what you are told Or your folks will blow a gasket!   JACK SPRAT could eat no fat. Too much fat could **** him. But mounds of veggies on his plate Certainly don't thrill him. If MRS. SPRAT could eat no lean And just the fatty parts, Wasn’t her cholesterol level Jumping off the charts?   MISTRESS MARY, quite contrary, Brags about her garden, Which, she adds, is quite unique. **** Oops, beg your pardon. Are silver bells and cockle shells Much to brag about? I guess they are more practical When there is a drought.   JACK B. NIMBLE was pretty slick, Although he was a nut. Don’t play around with candlesticks, Or you could burn your ****   EENY MEENY MINY MOE... Invest your money and watch it grow. It’s good to save and not to owe, EENY MEENY MINY MOE...   GEORGIE PORGIE made the girls cry Every time he kissed ‘em. They didn’t like that chauvinist And the way he dissed ‘em.   Did JACK AND JILL go up the hill Really to get water? What kind of H2O Would make him swerve and totter?   If these days PETER put his wife In a pumpkin shell, He'd never hear the end of it; Boy, she’d give him hell! - by Bob B
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Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 8:10 AM UTC
21st Century Nursery Rhymes