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Edna Sweetlove Jan 2015
Yes, it's the fifth in the COUNT ORLOK series!

Ah! Sweet Death comes slowly
   to my poor victims,
As I **** their lifeblood
   through their gargling screams.

How I enjoy their cries
  for mercy and compassion,
Just before I give them
  eight inches up the ****.

CHORUS  (Sung to the tune of "Rawhide")

Thrusting, thrusting, thrusting,
Though the smell's disgusting
Yeeha!
I'm evil beyond measure
And I gain my evil pleasure

Through rain and wind and weather,
My ****-splattered **** will never
Forget the pangs of pleasure
Inside...inside...
Yeeeeee-Hawwww!!!!"

[Orlok wipes crap off vampiric **** and flies off,
the wnd whistling through his gaping zip.]
Edna Sweetlove Jan 2015
\|/
@-@
(  -Q-  )
<=>
how I
drool over obese girls
with huge great cheeks
of wobbly dimpled fat
>========o======== no skinny birds for me!=======o========<
absolutely no way
yeeha
i love to see wobbly
fat girls waddling along
with their tyres of white flab
quivering in their size 88 jeans
like a pack of rabid rabbits fighting
in a rubber sack, and what do they need
yessir, they are barking for a friendly *****
from moi, edna the chubby-chaser and lover
of gorgeous female flesh body mass index forty
(at an absolute total minimum i must emphasise)
and preferable fifty so they look like a giant dumpling
i know you know the sort of image i crave: dimpled, dappled
acreages of heaving ****-cheeks wowee-yowee i am so excited
please god lead me to the land where the extra supersize fatties live
and let me exhaust my ***** gaze on their incredible buxom enormities
let me get my paws on them let me wallow in their glories dear god
oh yes indeedy when you come to think of it there's nothing like
a huge billowing fatso to get my blood afire with testosterone
and bottom-of-the-barrel-scraping loving lust
so why not jump off a pier
all you skinny minnies
per-lease
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Edna Sweetlove Dec 2014
On some verdant green hill far away in cute little Palestine of old
Before the Israelis marched in and bunged out the owners
Jesus was hanging about on the cross not feeling too happy
I suppose he was dying for you and me because his Dad was asleep
And he doesn't care if you are a ****** or a giant or a fatty or a fairy!
Yessir! He loves everyone unequivocally provided they praise him endlessly
And receive him in their souls and sing him a load of ****** hymns!

But if you don't receive the LORD and reject the words of the EVIL ONE
He (God) will crush you totally and utterly like a blue-tailed fly
Squatting on a well-used and ill-cleaned second-hand lavatory brush
Without any exception whatsoever even if you are an ugly fat dwarf
As He don't hold with no discrimination nor positive action no way!
So get down on your knees (a shorter journey for amputees with stumps)
And get praying to THE LORD without blinking twice. Yeeha! Amen!
ekaj revae Oct 2013
one moment, one fluke
trying to breathe in
trying not to breathe,
speed momentum
with a crew, all alone,
faded now, the loop
all day driving
all day braking, and shoes
are what i think,
while the sky falls
to questions, to the lessons
learned, instant lights,
instant disaster,
lights and ruin,
instant imprisoned
mind, the battle
with the head.

the Jack Daniel man
Cowboy Hat Jackie Chan
in concrete land,
the funk man.

jungle of parrots
on the street with the
emotions mixed and yeeha
theres the bus and giddy up goes
the man, smokin crack
on the corner and he salutes.

cowboy floatin down the
aisle stride, picks his side
like a glide. like a guitar
like the sun. hittin those
melodies and the window
smacks the glare.
Martin H Samuel Aug 2020
“Yeeha”
if I were a cowboy
I'd stride the western range
(six-gun on my hip canteen from which to sip)
without you by my side
(along for the ride)
I'd feel mighty strange

“Ahoy”
or if I were a sailor
I'd sail the seven seas
(an ocean's-worth to the four corners of the earth)
and want you on board
(if you choose to cruise)
a'swashbuckling with me

“Contact”
if I were a pilot
I'd fly the friendly skies
(for crying out loud up there in the clouds)
I'd be close to heaven
(in the yonder wild blue)
with you I'd be high

“Lift off”
and if I were a spaceman
I may go far
(alone in my capsule with plenty of fuel)
but with you in my rocket
(and a docket in my pocket)
we'd reach the stars

childhood daydreams return now and then
when I would wonder again and again
about
when I grow up what will I be
butcher baker candlestick maker
or none of the above let's forget all three
it don't really matter if you're here with me
as
cowboys have sidekicks
and sailors a mate
every teacup a saucer
chalk stick a slate
even pilots have copilots
spacemen do too
(I must say believe you me)
you're just my cup of tea
and I could do with a brew

— The End —