Monday, November 8, 2010 Its was a night before New Years, And the weather grew mean, It was 3 in the morning, And I'm stranded in Queens, The tavern grew empty, The gas lights grew dim, The horse-drawn carriages were all but snowed in, Last call was approaching, And my fortunes looks bleak, Then I turned to my left, And stifled a shriek, She had a peach fuzz beard, And weighed 16 stone. She gobbled up hot wings, And swallowed the bones, I muffled a scream, And threw up in my mouth, I asked:"Where do you live", And she said:"One block south", I swallowed my pride and six shots of whiskey, And prayed to the gods, That she wasn't too frisky, Back in her cave,she prepared us a snack, 'Neath her mighty hooves,the floorboards did crack, But when she returned, She found a sound sleeper, And thus she became, The sexless innkeeper. True story. ;-) i want this to last 3:24 AM |
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