Saturday, September 13

An Ode to Usernames

O Bmyho, Bmyho, wherefore art thou "Be My Ho"?
Deny thy fatherfigure and refuse thy name;
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love
And I will no longer be a ladyluver.

Tis but thy name that is my enemy;--
Thou art thyself, though not a grrlcandylicker.
What's hrdforyou? It is nor hand nor foot
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a wakeyworm. O be some other name!

What's in a name? That which we call a bootyseeker
By any other name would smell as sweet.
So 11inches would, if he were not 11inches called,
Retain that dear measurement which he owes
Without that title. Bubbajoejr, doff thy name;
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.



with apologies to Shakespeare, of course

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

When forty winters shall besiege thy beak,
And dig deep trenches in thy feathered breast,
Thy booty which now Bubbajoe doth seek
Will serve up Ladyluver’s sternest test:
Then being asked by Bmyho, “Yo bitch,
Mine loins yearn pussy from thy lusty days”;
To say, ‘Whack off thine wakeyworm for which
’Twas hrd for you to keep your zipper raised.’
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst say 'This father figure pays
His alimony sums without excuse,’
By writ a portion of his earnings thine!
This were to be short made when thou art old,
And see eleven inches shrink four-fold.

Wendy said...

::applause applause:::

Awesome! I am truly awed. Now who are you??

Anonymous said...

O, fie! Again, with corrections:


When forty winters shall besiege thy beak,
And dig deep trenches in thy feathered breast,
Thy youthful booty Bubbajoe doth seek
Will serve up Ladyluver’s sternest test:
Then being asked by Bmyho, ‘Yo bitch,
Mine loins yearn pussy from thy lusty days’;
To say, ‘Whack off thine wakeyworm for which
’Twas h’rd for you to keep thy zipper raised.’
How much more praise deserv'd thy beauty's use,
If thou couldst say 'This father figure shines
In rendering support without excuse,’
By writ a portion of his earnings thine!
This were to be short made when thou art old,
And see eleven inches shrink four-fold.

posthumous said...

I think it's the ghost of Shakespeare in the machine.