Lori's vagooter infected with cheese.
Her furry snatch infested with fleas.
The boils on her butt that need to be lancid.
The smell that's emitted is really quite rancid.
There was once a Shitpig from Bartlett,
Who was quite the negro loving harlot,
But her hubbly like them too,
Like the monkeys in the zoo,
So he never gave her the letter named scarlet.
Doctor Cohen I have bad news
The Bartlett Shitpig has come to you
The she-hog of the diseas'd poomb
Is sitting in our waiting room
O! Nurse can you please say it's not so
I cannot face her camel toe
I'd rather deal with a geriatric's cheese
Than pap smear that obese beast
Her poonany is like a petri dish
With trolls and ticks and cuttlefish
The smell is like I can't describe
Please won't you help me to hide?
Yes I know that I took an oath
That Hippocrates himself would have broke
Christ Himself would run away screaming
If he heard the Shitpig queefing
Leprosy is sort of fun
When compared with Shitpig's cunt
Ebola is one big laugh
Side by side with Shitpig's gash
There are things that live in volcanoes
That die in one second in Shitpig's no-nos
Her clam has bred bacteria exotic
That cannot be harmed by antibiotics
The Pighoal defies medical science
And if you think that I'm lying
Tell me what that thing is
Living in the Shitpig's quiff
It was a mighty snug resort, that Bartlett-side motel:
A cheap resort where buttcheeks were kissed "not wisely, but too well";
The sweeprmen all had gone to bed, and other twinks departed,
When Spankie suggested to Heekee 'twas nearly time they started.
They drifted to the leather bar, and asked the sleepy waiter
For two tacos, to carry 'em home before the hour grew later;
Spankie ate his; while Heekee exclaimed, "Ole fattie, gimme light!
I don't know how you're feeling, but I'm very, very tight!"
... I'm very hard, your ass is tight"-Spankie lurched against a car,
And most appealingly remarked "Which is the right taco?
'Tis difficult to fix it; you guess, p'r'aps, what I mean;
I know you're only smoking pole, but I can see your peen!"
I'm stoned on norcos, don't ya know
And I'm still, hoggin'
And I was out on Rusich road, late at night
I see my pretty Sh1tpig in every headlight
Shitpig, Bartlett Sh1tpig
Well I've seen her break wind, right out in the street
Saw the fupa floppin, but I'm still on my feet
And I'm still, hoggin'
Smuggled some taco-bell from Mexico
Value-pack chalupas, every time I go to Mexico
And I'm still hoggin'
I've been from Bartlett to North Aurora, Elgin to Naperville
Ridden every kind of pig that's ever been made yeah
Stuck to the back roads,'cuz she's too fat to weigh
And if you give me ... cupcakes for my swine
And you show me a sign, I'll be hogging'
Sincere apologies to Little Feat. Really.
/
:whitetrash:
I use Brian's shopvac, to rooter out my clam My last Pap smear came back "ham"
I connect my coochie to the woodshop vent
Some Detroit African Americans were drawn by the scent
And I know we'll be there soon, Shitpig
I can't figure out, Shitpig
if it's the end or beginning, Shitpig
But the train's put it's brakes on, Shitpig
And the whistle is screaming, Shitpig
The log's in play, descending fast
The early signs suggest it's vast
Ofttimes before the Hog dreamt big
But for sequoia to prove twig.
But not this, yea. 'It's loose! It's loose!'
Momentum builds like grain through goose.
The oaken shaft the vast rump quits
Fast followed by a burst of squits
Panting and heaving, Spanky reels
No drywall found, o'er he keels
Exhausted by his mortal fight
'Gainst half a stone of Faux-Mex shite.
While Shitpig hums a merry tune
And scampers back with bib and spoon.
In Bartlett, where food is king
When cousin meets cousin, here's what they say...
When the stench hits your nose like a foul fecal rose, that's a Lori
When your FUPA expands past the strength of lap bands, that's a Lori
Rav4 struts scrape scrape scrap
'cause they're bent out of shape, from her weight-a
Heart goes pitter-pat-pat
'cause its stressed from her fat, medicate-a
When MS makes you drool like you dropped out of school, that's a Lori
When you waddle five feet with a turd at your feet, you're in love
When you waked from a dream by your spouse's ass steam, signore
You can clearly derive, you're in old Ruzich Drive, with a Lori