Eye have a spelling chequer,
It came with my Pea Sea.
It plane lee marks four my revue
Miss Steaks I can knot sea.

Eye strike the quays and type a whirred
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am write oar wrong
It tells me straight a weigh.

Eye ran this poem threw it,
Your shore real glad two no.
Its vary polished in its weigh.
My chequer tolled me sew.

A chequer is a bless thing,
It freeze yew lodes of thyme.
It helps me right all stiles of righting,
And aides me when eye rime.

Each frays come posed up on my screen
Eye trussed too bee a joule.
The chequer pours o'er every word
Two cheque sum spelling rule.

8/26/2012 12:17:33 AM

Quote :

"The feeling of his baby gravy trickling down my throat got my pussy batter flowing quicker than a greased weasel shit. The slamming makes me spritz my spaff all over his bald avenger. Inserting a barbie doll into my hatchet wound got me squirting tuna tunnel tears faster than a greased weasel shit. My throat was so full of tallywacker and love piss, the love piss was sliming down my chin and onto my love bubbles. The mixture of Mr. Hanky and magician's wax in my shit winker created the delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of."

8/26/2012 12:24:14 AM