I like that trusty Smith And Wesson, <br />the thirty-eight is very special <br />a forty-five, more powerful <br />is overkill and has no looks. <br />The same applies to mammaries <br />the line between a pretty sight <br />and scrambled emu eggs is fine. <br />About those legs, they may be spindly, <br />or bowed or x type, also hairy <br />it is the calf, near the achilles <br />that makes attractiveness appear. <br />And Sigmund, all of us are sorry <br />that you have faded from the scene <br />though you were right that every woman <br />who does not have inherent beauty <br />has penis envy, where she looks <br />in early morning in the hope <br />that one had grown there overnight. <br />May God allow me to keep gushing <br />all over those who grace this world <br />with smiles and loveliness of soul <br />not bitches who will stride with hatred <br />into a crowd assembled loosely <br />and wait in vain for some attention. <br /> <br />This is Australia, where racists live <br />not all have died yet and we choose <br />to shun the company of some <br />it is of course just honesty. <br />We don't condone the Irish curse <br />those people do have rivets missing <br />and are unsure about Iran <br />where Dubbya will make playground three <br />but when we see those bumblehornets <br />who cannot sing and cannot sting <br />we sit back snug in our chairs <br />and smile our bright, superior smile <br />do we feel sorry for the losers <br />I will not say, perhaps we do.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ramblings-on-anzac-day/
