O, to be in dearest Edna
Now that Spring is here!
But alas, poor lass, she is no more,
Bereft of life, dead and gone,
Breathing through the grass,
O woe, O woe are we,
The old slag's snuffed it.
No more will we, ardent admirers
By the rancid cartload,
Feel her horrid toothless gums
Slurp their lascivious path of glory
Across our bloated obesities,
Sucking and slobbering,
Muttering sweetest nothings
Through mangled, matted pubics.
No more shall we feel her body
Groaning under butchest thrust,
Uttering imprecations of desire.
However one consolation is ours:
We who remain behind on earth
Can have undisputed use of the giant vibrator
And will no longer need to cleanse it
Following Edna's awful misuse thereof.
These horrid thoughts came to me
As in a terrible, foetid nightmare;
And I dreamed I saw Edna's grave
Bedecked with flowers and phlegm;
And the holy angels sang overhead,
"It's an ill wind that blows
Out of the back passage".
In a list
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!
Comments
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Nice ending.
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I was a little bit worried there until I got to the end. Not that Edna had fluffed it, oh no, she is immortal, but worried that you had lost your marbles and had confused the glorious day she was born with the horrendous day she had kicked her bucket.
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Why don't you have an avatar. I would love to see if your face is as lovely as your warm-hearted sole.
*soul
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