Lunar landscape piss.
Your dad beams as he's reamed by the oil rigors, In their collective mind he's faked the cock-size figures.
Mum's toxic shit-box from all the spunk from geezers, cock-end ruination dad: emitting CFSs like freezers.
I find it quite threatening; Your mum's arse, beckoning.
Mum likes her penis like she likes her yoghurt β€˜Thick, and Greek style’
It's like a load of clowns cramming themselves into a tiny car, When all the blokes try to cram themselves into mum's shittar.
Your dad's wrong-shlong once more 'on the slant', he fails to get chubby then blubs "I cant!".
Dad’s hyping himself up listening to his Lighthouse Family CD Before heading to the playground to engage in behaviour that’s seedy
Dad's ramming his stinking man-meat In a chatGPT simulated shit-pleat.
Mum always wins first place gold, Category, bogs-whore most frequently arseholed.
Although access is hardly akin to Fort fucking Knox, Mum's cunt is still like two pieces of dried apricot.
Poetry Player
Loading tracks...
Poetry Player
Filename will appear here
Total ratings
Loading...
Total views
Loading...
Never
Login to rate and submit clockfuckers