Category: poems

My first time ever
the sky was dark
the moon was high
all alone
just my dick and I.
My schlong so hard
it was a clue
I knew just what
I had to do.
I remembered my fears
my fast beating heart
but slowly I spread
my legs apart.
I didn’t know how
but I tried my best
I started by placing
my hand on my tests.
My pubes so curly,
my balls so fine
I felt a tingle down my spine.
Then I did it
I felt no shame
and all at once the white stuff came.

Love is a gamble
Kissing is a game
Boys do the fucking
Girls get the blame
9 months of pain
6 days in hospital
Baby needs a name
Daddies a barstard
Mummies a hore
It would never of happened
If the rubber hadn’t tore!

Birdie, birdie in the sky,
Why’d you do that in my eye,
I’m not mad, I won’t cry,
I’m just glad that cows don’t fly.

Father Father I must confess,
I got my girlfriend in an awful mess.
I laid her down so naked and bare,
I stuck something up her that shouldn’t have been there.

Son son you stupid fucker.
When I was your age I used something rubber.

Father father no need to get upset.
I did use something rubber,
BUT THE DAMN THING BURST!

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat.

The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat.

The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook,

It was time for some for some pussy, fuck reading that book.

Momma in her teddy, and I in the nude,

Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube.

When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,

That I lost my boner and momma went dry.

Up to the window I sprang like an elf,

Tore back the shade while she played with herself.

The moon on the crest of the snowman we’d built,

Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.

With a fat little driver, half out of his sled,

A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head.

Sure as I’m speaking, he was as high as a kite

And he yelled to his team, but it didn’t sound right.

“Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, hey Dickfore, whoa Putz,

Either slow down this rig or I’ll cut off your nuts.”

“Look out for the lamp post, and don’t hit the tree,

Quit shaking the sleigh, ’cause I gotta go pee.

They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,

Just as Santa leaned out and puked on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard something splatter,

As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.

I put on my jacket to cover my ass,

When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.

His suit was all covered with dip spit galore,

He looked like a bum and smelled like a whore.

“I’m all fuckin’ shit-canned ,” he said with a smile,

“And Rudolf was farting the last half-a mile.”

He walked to the kitchen, for himself poured a drink,

Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.

I started to laugh, as my wife turned around

Santa was hung half way to the ground.

Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,

But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.

The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,

The next was a manual on how to pop zits.

A dime bag of reefer was Santa’s next find,

And a six pair of panties, the edible kind.

A boarding school pisser, a penis extension,

And several other things that I can’t even mention.

A cock ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,

And a bong that was wrapped with aluminium foil.

“This stuff’s not for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit,

So I’ll leave it all here, and then I’ll just split.”

He filled both our stockings, looked at my wife’s cleave.

And tucked my son’s crack pipe up under his sleeve.

He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,

Made it out of the chimney, on my roof smacked his head.

In time he was seated, took the reigns of his hitch,

Saying, “Take me home, Rudolph, the night’s been a bitch!”

The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,

“The best thing about college, is that the beer won’t run out.

There was an old lady from hardwick,
By a cricket ball she was struck.
And now it reads on her tombstone,
Hardwick, Hard ball, Hard luck.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 160
=————————————–

Life is like a shit sandwich.
The more bread you have, the less shit you have to eat.

Found on the men’s room wall at Cogan’s in Norfolk, VA.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 161
=————————————–

This is a teepee for your peepee
Not a wigwam to beat your tomtom!

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 162
=————————————–

(written above a urinal)

Why are you looking up here?
Are you ashamed of it?

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 163
=————————————–

No matter how you shake and dance,
The last drop always falls in the pants.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 164
=————————————–

No matter how much you shake your peg,
The last wee drop runs down your leg.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 165
=————————————–

Be like daddy, not like sis
lift the lid to take a piss.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 166
=————————————–

Some people come here to take a shit,
I come here to leave one.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 167
=————————————–

Don’t look now!
you’re pissing on your neighbors foot!

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 168
=————————————–

(from the late Clark Gable)

Why should I be proud of something where:
Every monkey is my equal,
and every jackass is my superior?

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 169
=————————————–

On the ceiling above the toilet:

Out to lunch, be back soon.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 170
=————————————–

Written above a urinal in a men’s clothing store:

To curtail shoplifting of our overpriced merchandise, these urinal stalls
may be monitored at any time by buxom voluptuous airline stewardesses and
horny divorcees moonlighting as security guards.

Written below that:

If you’re longer than 12 inches, you get a 50% discount on our overpriced
suits.

And written below that:

And if you’re last name is Bobbitt, you get another half off! Prices
slashed!

And yet written below that:

Gee, I don’t see how you guys sit on these funny-shaped toilets. I can’t
seem to stay on without slipping off. Mary.

And yet written below that:

I bet that’s what your husband says too every night!

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 171
=————————————–

Please do not bite the woodwork while straining.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 172
=————————————–

Why do turds taper?
To prevent your ass from snapping shut with a bang.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 173
=————————————–

Written at the bottom of the toilet stall:

Beware of gay limbo dancers!

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 174
=————————————–

Alas poor Yorlik, I knew him backwards.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 175
=————————————–

What ever happened to the good old days when men were men and pansies were
flowers?

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 176
=————————————–

I used to think I was a werewolf but I’m alright nooowwwoooooooo…

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 177
=————————————–

Phys204: a waste of time, space, and energy.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 178
=————————————–

Sometimes I wish I was
What I was when
I wished I was
What I am now.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 179
=————————————–

If you are taking a Shit
Please put it back

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 180
=————————————–

Q: Quel est la difference entre un homme et une femme?
A: La difference entre.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 181
=————————————–

(written above a urinal)

I think, therefore I aim.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 182
=————————————–

Seen above a urinal:

Si quieres crecer fuerte y sano,
comete lo que tienes en la mano.

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 183
=————————————–

Seen above a urinal:

If you think I’m sick, look at what you’re holding!

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 184
=————————————–

Virginity is like a bubble in the mainstream of life:
one prick and it’s gone forever!

-= bathroom rhymes and graffiti =-= 185
=————————————–

Written above a roll of toilet paper:

UCLA diplomas, take one.

I shot an arrow in the air.
Where did it land?
Hey I don’t care

It’s probably embedded into some old oak,
But I’m not gonna go look for it,
‘Cuz it’s probably broke!

Or maybe it’s in someone’s skull.
For the sake of their family,
I hope that arrow was dull!

If it wasn’t dull then I am screwed,
For they will get a lawyer,
And I will get sued!

It’s not my fault they walked into my arrow.
It’s not my problem it pierced their skin
Lungs and bone marrow!

But of course that’s not what the jury will see.
Someone will be guilty,
And that someone is me!

I’ll spend my life sitting in jail,
All alone,
Rotting away, turning pale.

And then I’ll probably get the chair,
Or lethal injection,
And that’s just not fair!!!

And just when you thought it couldn’t get worse,
They will take my corpse
For a ride in a hurse.

Then I could end up being a ghost
*Insert funny line here*
And take on a human to be my host.

Go out again and shoot an arrow.
Whoops!
Looks like I am in court tomorrow!

When will this cycle ever end?
What is the moral?
Is broccoli your friend?

So listen to me, and listen good:
Don’t shoot your arrows,
Unless you know you should.

This is a story about a man named Jed
Poor mountainier barely kept his family feed

Then one day he was shootin at a squiral
Up popped up, a beautiful girl

Naked that is, big tits and everything

Next thing you know old Jeds in bed
Hoofin and poofin till his balls turn red

Nine months later he has a little girl
Teaches her never go shootin at a squirel

THIS POEM IS DEVOTED TO: All those without johns

In days of old when knights were bold and toilets
were not yet invented,They took their load by the road
and
went on contented.

If You sprinkle
While you tinkle
Be a sweaty
Wipe the seaty

The infamous “Bitch Poem”

Ahhh Women…
Everyday I give thanks to the Goddess
I have two mounds upon my bodice
I shave my legs, I sit down to pee
I can justify any shopping spree
Not to a barber, but a beauty salon
Can get a massage without a hard on
Can balance the checkbook, pump my own gas
Can talk to my friends about the size of my ass
I always save money by using coupons
Can admit to others when I am wrong
Don’t drive in circles at any cost
So I don’t have to admit when I am lost
Don’t act like I’m in a timed marathon
Every time I go to the john
Let me tell you men
Listen to me boys
Those things in your pants
That you treat as toys
You love them more then we ever will
We would rather suck on a cold pickled dill
I spend two hours preparing for a date
Only to find you’re two hours late
I don’t watch movies with lots of gore
Don’t need instant replay to remember the score
I won’t lose my hair
I don’t get jock itch
And just cause I’m assertive
Don’t call me a bitch
I don’t wear the same underwear everyday
The food in my fridge has no sign of decay
I don’t go to Sears
To look at the tools
I don’t cheat at poker
I follow the rules
I don’t smoke cigars
Don’t pay for drinks at bars
I don’t punch my friends just to say “Hi”
And it’s o.k. for me to cry
I know all you men
Think that you’re “IT”
But compared to a woman
You just ain’t SHIT!

This Poem, “The Pimp,” was written in response to a
forward entitled “Bitch Poem”

Ahhh Men…
Everyday I give thanks to my God
that I’ve got a Dick and a tight ass bod.
I like to play sports, I love to get naked,
Is it our fault that you girls can’t take it?
I own lots of tools and don’t mind putting on weight,
when I get ready for a party, my ass is never late.
I can actually drive a car and even change a tire,
my ability to produce children will never expire.
When a male is born, it is clearly heaven-sent,
that’s probably why a woman has never been president.
I can pee without squatting, I’ve slept in a tent,
women’s fatal flaw is that they are subservient.
First and foremost, my looks don’t govern my life,
When I gain a few pounds, I don’t go under the knife.
I don’t read the nutrition labels, I like to eat
meat,
if any women objects, she can just take a seat.
I don’t own a hairdryer,I brush my hair with my
hands,
I am considered the better gender in the majority of
lands.
I masturbate openly, I secretly desire a mirror on my
ceiling,
I don’t go cry when someone hurts my feelings.
Listen to me girls, I need to tell you something
right quick,
it pertains to lovemaking and my almighty Dick
That thing in your pants that you guard like
treasure,
Men don’t respect you for it, we just see it as
pleasure.
I like it squeezed, jacked, licked and sucked,
I am capable of having sex and saying “we fucked.”
I like to have sex and finish with a roar,
I hope to remain a promiscuous bachelor.
Bitches think that they’re “all that,”
But we don’t care about every ounce of fat.
Just cuz your thighs cause mass amounts of friction,
Doesn’t mean you belong outside of the kitchen!!
Any girl that objects, just respond please,
But on one condition, first get off your knees…
I have a little advice to my fellow men, and I’m
afraid I can’t
lie,
NEVER trust anything that can bleed for four days and
then not
DIE!
Right at home is where women should stay,
Cuz men are the ones that make the pay.
At least our Dick doesn’t sag when we get older,
I’ve seen better looking bitches by the name of
Rover.
At least my body doesn’t bleed that certain week,
Bitch you’re just jealous, don’t sweat the technique.
You constantly get played like childrens games,
Guys just fuck you and forget your names!!!!!!!
Bitches all be hanging from my large nutsack,
Now what the fuck are you going to say after this
counter
attack…