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| Author | Message | | | Posted on Fri Dec 09, 2005 05:45:41 | |
| | The tavern of lust, and its company,
The ninth piller from the capped brothers,
You think you are only ones with dicks,
That you, alone, can $#$% any woman you want
And the rest of us are goats?
Just because you sit all in a row,
A hundred or two, like idiots,
What makes you think I couldn't shove my cock
Into a couple hundred throats right there?
Think about it:
I'll scrawl graffiti all over your wall!
For my darling, who fled from my embrace,
Who I loved as no one else could,
For whom I fought ferociously for,
Has come to you--All of you high and mighty men,
And, the shame of it,
The backalley rentboys and vagrants,
You all screw her, undeservingly.
Especially you, Ignatius;
You hippie freak,
Son of Celtiberia, who $#$%s like a bunny,
And brushes his teeth with the piss of a Spaniard. | |
| | | Posted at Wed Feb 14, 2018 16:28:20 | Quote |
| | Pocilgareiros que a infame pocilga,
Que do templo dos peludos irmãos
Dista em nove colunas, sempre acolhe,
Pensais que só em vós o falo se ergue?
Que sois donos de todas as meninas?
E o resto é corno velho e que se dane?
Porque aà ficais aos montes de idiotas
(que sejam cem, duzentos não interessa)
Não irei eu ousar fazer que vós
Chupeis todos quietos minha cabeça?
Encerro por aqui. Não há quem aguente tamanha obscenidade. | |
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