NOTE:((NEEDS AN EDIT! Over 18 only – this seems obscene……. But ob seen worse.))
Poncho & Lefty messed up this hotel
I’m here, room service will not hear me yet;
The Mob they thought I had a certain debt,
I paddled down to Mexicali hell.
Bus driver doesn’t need a map, he says
He just might tell the truth if I relax;
I better take a sail to Ja-make-eo
Push a bus uphill chock full of ho’s
(Note: This really happened
Returning from Savannah La Mar
Heading to Negril. They weren’t hos
They wuz just party girls)
A tongue in both your ears will wake you up
I got back on the bus and I found out
“Meet us tonight at the Soon Come disco,”
“We’ll give you something else you won’t forget.”
I need some sour-sop juice & that’s no joke,
I must lie down, pass out before I poke;
While Jenna leans so sexy by the door,
My balls they be conflicted to the core.
Captain Jack he sails south just as we wrote,
A full moon on the Grand Bank’s not like this;
Banana trees are sneaking cross my yard
While Davey G’s best lady rubs my nards.
(NOTE: “nards” – one of Paddy’s favorite
I don’t care so much, I got my hoodie
Her buttocks blossoming gives me a woody;
I didn’t fuck her gotta tell you to be true,
I relieved myself four times into the dew.
(Editor’s note: WHOOPS!)
Did I get some thanks, no not at all!
I felt real true blue pressure in my balls;
Maybe I’ll sail north to Montreal
A lady I know there will give me all
With three mobsters after my appendage
I tend to watch all night, see who’s around
The prairie oysters they collect from
Makes em giggle all night long while chewing them.
(Ed. NOTE: No! Shoot the poet!)
I grew up in the circus with my daddy
Where hookers were gals and also men
And with the appetite of all them prairie folk
Hide out in your jockstrap with a 4:10!
((editor’s note: OUCH!!))
(This is god awful poetry!
That prick’s gonna have to pay me more
And bring me another bottle quick!
yours truly, Editor 666)