I’m considered a bit of a lady-killer due to my gift for seduction through poetry. Women like poetry. Don’t ask me why. Probably because they’re stupid. I mean, Jesus, really? Talking in rhyme? That’s fine for mother goose. Or Top 40. But for getting laid? Hey: what can I say. As Rowdy Yates used to say, don’t try to understand ’em, just rope, throw, and brand ’em. Gonna argue with drover wisdom? You can, I ain’t.
So anyway, I seem to have this gift for seduction via love poems. Couple my buddies are always sayin’ to me, “Yeah, but look at the level of female beauteousness that these so-called love poems of yours are snagging and hauling ashore.”
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This is called envy and jealousy. Sure, I rope-in some corpulents. So, the fuck what. I turn them on with my romantic gifts for poetry and then I’m not supposed to fuck ’em? Just because they look like extremely enlarged puffer fish? That’s just plain ungentlemanly. And I am a gentleman. I got some mismatched socks on occasion, but I am still a gentleman. I never said I was a clothes horse. Dressin’ right is a whole separate science from what I’m pushin’ here.
OK, so let’s get on with the lesson. You copy this down, which means writing, so, have your ol’ lady
do it or memorize it. That means……ya know what? Just have yer ol’ lady write all this down on a piece of paper and then you whip it out – the paper – at the bar when the saloon hostess shows up to ask you what you want, and you haul-off and recite this selection to her that I have especially chose for this lecture. You’re welcome.
if I were to ask you to massage my balls /
would that be to your liking? /
for if you were to say a “yes” to that /
I would be mightier than any Viking /
Woden himself would envy me /
as your fingers caressed my scrotum /
and from above my balls there would extend /
a blood-filled fleshy totem- /
pole of cock rapacious for /
entrance to your twattage door /
we’d fuck like frantic forest boars /
the world would hear our carnal roars /
my jizz would fire up through your skull /
the firmament would play Jethro Tull /
with full orchestral power and might /
as we fucked like Great Apes in a fight /
my jizz, your brains, would splash the walls /
if you would just massage my balls / sperma shave
–J.J. Solari
