Having lost the physical, mental, and moral qualities considered normal and desirable, this once-woman is the most stunningly appalling, disgusting, horrid creature to roam the face of the planet. This bitch is a shocking, heinous, harrowing, vile, shameful, unforgivable, unpardonable
CUNT. The following anecdote scratches the surface of what tapping this Medusa entails:
There once was a girl named Carmen;
The bugs on her twat were a swarmen;
Nevertheless, I put my dick to the test;
And NOW the sores are ALARMIN.
To Whit, when you meet a
Juicy Poone at the bar, or the nightclub, the lights might be just dim enough to suggest to you that it may somehow be acceptable to take the
Juicy Poone
home for an innocent night in your personal rumpus room. You may find yourself tempted to take it
home and show it your etchings or lithographs. Hold it right there, Old Sport. Get a hold of yourself. If you fall into the
Juicy Poone's trap, and wind up at your place, your dick will take a look and be instantly transmogrified into a pillar of fucking SALT. Woe unto you then, for it is too late. "Things fall apart, the center cannot hold," and your best friend,
Mr.
Happy, falls right the
fuck off. And he shatters on the floor. Game over, you have fallen victim to the venereal charms of the
Juicy Poone. With a gaze "blank and pitiless as the sun," the
Juicy Poone moves its slow thighs" and slithers out the mother fucking door, back to the bar to claim another unwary traveler.
Your mate slurs the following at the club, "Hey bro, look at that chick or something over there. I think that after another five or six boilermakers I'll go and tap that shit."
You are
pretty well charged up after a narrow escape yourself. "Hold the fuck on man," you say. "Step up off that
Juicy Poone!! If you get anywhere close to that your dick will either rot the
fuck off or jump up your ass to escape. That Juicy Poone is a rancid whore.