This is why I'm a saint:


I am one, you are two
pick me up, Seattle Slew
I am three, you are four
I'm a saint, compared to a whore
I am five, you are six
this is worse than a SNL skit
I am seven, you are eight
tonight, Food Barn is open late
I am nine, you are ten
now kick yourself in the chin
I am A, you are P
that's wrong, aren't you B?
Wait, you just lost me
mmmmmm....a Wendy's Frosty
this is what it is, and not what it ain't
I made you a prostitute, you made me a saint


"Stinky Twinkie is Dumber than Sand"

I'm flooding the land
with butter and jam.
Meet my new friend, Stuttering Sam.
I made your brother a fan.
What? Your mother's a man?
Apples and oranges, hummers and vans
I know what you're thinking,
"Stink Twink's dumber than sand"
Now, I'll leave
so you can talk to Stuttering Sam


yeah, the second one sounds like a bad rap song.  Don't forget to tell me how much I suck.

-Stinky Twinkie is now a saint and a bad rapper-

    
she makes my day.

[This message has been edited by Stinky Twinkie (11-29-2002 04:29 PM).]

I know this is dirty, but....this poem is too good to for the second page
just kidding, I'm bored so I responded to my own poem.

sorry

-Stinky Twinkie-

[This message has been edited by Stinky Twinkie (11-30-2002 11:12 PM).]