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May 27, 2007


I.M. Small

Long Dong D.
Long dong Dick could hang a brick
Upon his genitalia,
But when he sneered some thought it weird,
And labeled him a failure.

Yet exercising every day
Taught him to bring up Chi,
He hung the brick and let it sway,
O such a man was he!

He went into the librarie
And swung his brick around
And after all the crashing glass
You couldn´t hear a sound.

Librarians peered from underneath
Their desks, partly appalled,
Partly attracted: bated breath
Confirmed his head was bald.

Yet long dong Dick so liked the trick
He swung his brick some more,
Till by his glance librarians
Confirmed dead on the floor.

Children were there, in pools of blood
Felled by long dong karate,
And, godlike, he declared it good,
The death of literati.

He swings his brick today you know,
Many are his admirers,
Fearful to go the way he go,
Yet with him co-conspirers.

Yes, Long dong Dick could hang a brick
Upon his genitalia,
And men kowtowed before him proud
In his austere regalia.

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