Tuesday, March 25, 2008

The Debauchee

I rise at eleven, I dine about two
I get drunk before seven, and the next thing I do;
I send for my whore, when, for fear of a clap
I fuck in her hand, and spew in her lap;
Then we quarrel and scold, till I fall asleep.
When the jilt growing bold, to my pocket does creep;
Then slily she leaves me, and to revenge the affront
At once both my lass and my money I want.
If by chance then I wake, hot-headed and drunk
What a coyl do I make for the loss of my punk?
I storm, and I roar, and I fall in a rage,
And missing my lass, I bugger my page:
Then crop-sick, all morning I rail at my men,
And in bed I lie yearning till eleven again.
(Earl of Rochester)

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

[url=http://louboutinmart.co.uk]christian louboutin[/url] Help PagesSample Formatting PageCreating ColumnsHow to Edit PagesEmbedding AudioQuick ReferenceWiki SyntaxAdminSite ManagerEdit TopEdit SidebarRecent changesList all pagesI Believe EssaysFootball Is Practice for CollegeBilly Joel: Just the Way You AreLittle Fake Christmas TreesCompromiseOvercoming Foreign BarriersThe Power of SixLearning To Love AutumnWho Said Dads Can't Buy Tampons?Paseando por ChileThe Slap ShotBeing Stuck In The RainShortcutsFlow Connects LifePossibilitiesThe power of the oceanI know Where I'm DreamingThe Magical Ball [url=http://dkgoose.com]Canada Goose jakker[/url] Urrdceffp [url=http://www.louboutinoutletuks.co.uk]christian louboutin uk[/url]
pbqfwe 888900 [url=http://www.chilliwackbombersoutlet.com]picture of geese[/url] 208216 [url=http://www.beatsbydreaonsales.com]dr dre[/url]