Lizzy... youre like a chair Lizzy... you have lots of hair Lizzy... yeah even down there Lizzy... maybe you should use nare Lizzy... its ok, no one cares Lizzy... you glow like a flair Lizzy... your skin is quite fair Lizzy... your butts as tight as a snare Lizzy... but you somehow pooped out a pear Lizzy... youre taller than a kodiak bear Lizzy... so dont be scared of Blair (Witch) Lizzy... we're such an odd pair Lizzy... but together we're like Sonny & Cher awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
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"You know what you can't outsource, Fareed? You can't outsource balls. America is the world leader in balls." --Stephen Colbert
His name was Jason Lowe He was hung like a gerbils toe He said he once shaved his sisters butt Shadow wanted pics, but Jlowe said keep it shut Instead Jlowe flashed his pearly nips And Chad watched nervously while playing with poker chips Later that night Jason plugged in his 5ft Easter bunny Gave it a hug and called it honey 2minutes later, it was on his bed with its cottontail up As I walked through the door, Jason covered himself with a cup I promised I wouldnt say a word For J Lowes rep could become equal to a turd But instead I took pics of the naked Jew And posted them on my photos page on Yahoo! Some time passed And Shadow still wanted to see her shaved a** Jason finally showed us his ghetto sister in the shower And we didnt see Shadow for many many hours moral of the story is never have sex with a jew otherwise, you might have a kid too
-- Edited by F0RUM JESuS at 04:50, 2005-06-18
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"You know what you can't outsource, Fareed? You can't outsource balls. America is the world leader in balls." --Stephen Colbert
FOr what it's worth, here is what i think about those, as told by the people at Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy
"Oh ... and er ... interesting rhythmic devices too," continued Arthur, "which seemed to counterpoint the ... er ... er ..." He floundered.
Ford leaped to his rescue, hazarding "counterpoint the surrealism of the underlying metaphor of the ... er ..." He floundered too, but Arthur was ready again.
"... humanity of the ..."
"Vogonity," Ford hissed at him.
"Ah yes, Vogonity (sorry) of the poet's compassionate soul," Arthur felt he was on a home stretch now, "which contrives through the medium of the verse structure to sublimate this, transcend that, and come to terms with the fundamental dichotomies of the other," (he was reaching a triumphant crescendo ...) "and one is left with a profound and vivid insight into ... into ... er ..." (... which suddenly gave out on him.) Ford leaped in with the coup de gr@ce: