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

“You can't tell me what to do. Unless I was already just about to do the thing you said. Then I'll do what you say, but not because you said to do it. Hold on; let me draw up a flow chart.”

-Pistain Johnson

Fortune 500 Cookie

In retrospect, it was a mistake to name your jewelry store "Who Faahted?" Try learning a new song this week: Everybody's sick of the theme from Ice Pirates. You'll get lucky in the market this week: all your stocks will plummet, but you're going to get laid by a butcher. This week's lucky terms of endearment: Ninjatits, Daddy's Little Freebaser, Grape Ape, President Precious, Monsieur Brabuster.

Try again later.

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