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

“Give a man a fish, he eats today. Hide a fish in his jacket pocket and watch him go batshit trying to find where the smell's coming from.”

-John J. Jesusheimer Schmidt

Fortune 500 Cookie

Turns out your suspicions are correct and that Maurice Sendak book has been about you all this time. Peer-to-peer file-sharing claims its first victim when Metallica shows up at your house to beat the shit out of you. Remember to practice what you preach, because your preaching has been really amateur lately. Lucky numbers are all in Spanish this week.

Try again later.

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