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Great Writing creative writing community is designed to prompt ideas
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| How Much Do I Love Thee? | |
| By Talisker | ||||||||||||
| 19 December 2006 | ||||||||||||
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You are like a hang-glider, With chronic diarrhoea, Like piles to a bike rider, A dead fly in my beer. You’re woodworm in a cripple’ crutch, As pure as driven slush, You’ve got B.O. you talk too much, Your brain is just a mush. You’re best in something flowing, Why don’t you try a river? You make me pleased by going, You’re a taker not a giver, If beauty only is skin deep, Then who the Hell peeled you? You’re such an asshole, crass and cheap, A pile of steaming poo! They say you’ve Viking features, A face just like a Norse, I think I’ll find a preacher, To exorcise your curse. Your tits are like a spaniel’s ears, Your bra fits back to front, Your conversation bores to tears, If I may be so blunt. Both your knees have double chins, Your face is like a saint (Bernard!) You always dribble when you grin, I wouldn’t call you learned. A crew of drunken seamen, Wouldn’t touch you on shore leave, You laugh just like a demon, You cause my guts to heave! They named a town in your honour, That town is Leatherhead, Why not try being a loner, Better still, be dead! Yet still you want to ask me out, To have some super sex! I’ll have the bowl of soup, no doubt, And then delete this text! Oli (19/12/06)
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