Saturday, October 30, 2010

Porn Obsession


Stan had a secret,
Some would call it a sin.
He liked seeing women,
Wearing only their skin.

It started long ago,
He was looking for a toy.
When he found some magazines,
The title – Playboy

Then he started a collection
A drive to possess,
All things that were porn,
He’d begun to obsess.

He found that big breasts,
Were the most compellin’,
He began to be drawn
To things shaped like a melon.

Then came the internet,
And all hope was lost.
He joined every porn site,
Regardless of cost.

This new form of media,
Brought him things that were new.
Leather beauties having sex
With thing that went moo.

There were men on more men
And Asian cartoons
And sluts from the streets
Blowing hairy baboons.

There were sex toys and videos
And things for your butt
And homemade erotica
Like two girls and a cup

Stan loved every bit
Since the young age of eight
When he found his dad’s stash
And learned to masturbate

Now he’s grown old
His sex drive is o nil
Though still playing with his erection
Thanks to a little blue pill

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Bathroom Inequality

Have you ever seen,
A woman’s commode?
The kind that is public - Not at your abode

It happened to me,
By accident one day.
I strolled right on in – to my surprise I must say.

I knew right away,
That something was amiss.
The floor wasn’t sticky – it didn’t smell like piss.

There was a couch and some chairs
And paint on the walls.
The air was perfumed – doors hung on the stalls.

I was there but a moment,
Yet got a look about.
Then women glared at me angrily – as I slowly backed out.

I located my bathroom,
It was four steps to the right.
As I entered the room – my sphincter shut up tight.

How could I go back,
Given where I had been.
From the bathroom of angels – to the devil’s trash bin.

It smelled worse than it looked,
Though I know not how that could be.
I took a cautious step in – and slipped on some pee.

I fell to my back,
And as I lay on the floor,
I could three stalls down – where there was poop on the door.

The worse part of all,
Were the sounds I could hear.
There were groans and some farts – And someone upchucking a beer.

With considerable effort,
I got unstuck from the floor.
I’d seen the unfairness – I couldn’t take it any more.

I marched back over,
To the room painted pink.
I dropped down my trousers – and took a dump in their sink.

Now I have time to consider,
How I will make bail.
Cause there ain’t nothing worse – than the toilets in jail







Monday, October 25, 2010

Fire Gazing

I get home from work
And right away it starts;
Family Guy on T.V. – a show filled with farts.

The wife knows by now
To give me some time;
The first half hour at home – is time that is mine.

They say this has come
From days long ago;
When we came back to camp - with arrow and bow.

After a long day of hunting
We needed a break;
We’d stare at the fire - while the wife cooked the steak.

So now we come home
And the wife wants to talk;
But she give us our time – and we sit like a rock.

She knows that in time
We’ll come out of our shell;
Best we not take advantage – or she’ll make our life hell.

“Take your half hour,
Then pay me some mind;”
Then later tonight - I’ll not be unkind.”