In the city ashore There lived a whore Her stomach starved for flour Spread eagle on the floor The trucker came aboard And she was left all floored No one cared for her pain It was all about gain The bitches in the house Were all scared of the mouse No one was alert enough To even hear her cough She screamed and moaned Till it appeared she was stoned The trucker was having fun As his hand reached out for his gun And in the still of the night He sensed her fright And shot the whore in her ass So there stood the lass Who was stoned by the gas She could feel no pain There was nothing left to gain She moaned in ecstasy As he crept out of his darkest fantasy And she lay there alone Wanting to go home There was not an iota of shame And the poet thinks the poem is lame
Tis a favourite project of mine, A new value of pi to assign. I would fix it at 3, For it's simpler, you see, Than 3 point 1 4 1 5 9 Another favourite project of mine, a new value of g ,I shall assign, I would fix it at 10 metres per second square coz 9.81 just doesn't seem fair ! A value of G i shall assign to prove that gravity is created not just divine it will be equal to the sum of roots , of the remainder of the product of apple like fruits a value of k i shall i assign, this value shall be divine it wont be a number it wont have a name it will be supernatural and put other constants to shame
An engineer is a person who passes as an exciting technical expert on the basis of being able to turn out with prolific fortitude, infinite strings of incomprehensive estimates calculated with microscopic precision from vague assumptions and debatable figures taken from inconclusive data obtained with recording devices of problematical accuracy by uninformed persons of doubtful reliability and questionable mentality
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