Vaginal Scrape!

by Lindsay Green

February 9, 2004

Vaginal scrape!

Me!

Today!

Hot damn hot damn, get out of my way!

I've got a date with Mr. Goodtimes.
And the raindrops can't hit my ass
Because I'm moving too fast.

Take me home, Doctor Proctor.
The evening shall be gynecotacular!

That thing's going to be clean enough
To host a picnic inside, I tell you what.
Health inspectors will declare
"It's spotless in there!"

Mark my words and word to Mark:
It's gonna whistle when I run!
Everybody's gonna ask, "What's up Lindsay?
You sound like a rusty swingset today!"

I could tell them why but I just won't say
I'm just gonna smile and wink
Like a sly fox with a nice clean pink...
You know.

Because it's my secret
(me and the lucky ducks who've read my poem, that is!)

Scrape off that nasty plaque, Dr. Squeak.
Break out the masonry trowel or whatever
You gotta use to lose those blues!

(Though I think he might have to use the chimney brush since I haven't been in a while)

Quote of the Day

“Yes, madam, I may be drunk, but you are ugly and in the morning I shall still be drunk! Wait a minuteâ€¦ Okay, I've got a match for you: your butt and my face. TouchÃ©.”

-Quentin Hillchurch

Fortune 500 Cookie

Happiness is indeed a warm gun, but you're not supposed to warm it in your ass like that. If your life is lacking direction this week, we've got one word for you: North. As you have long suspected, recreational drugs are the answer. This week's lucky charms: taupe meatballs, turquoise speculums, puce gallstones, gold bullets.

Try again later.

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