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I have the coolest mother...  
09:55pm 12/10/2004
She wrote this poem. I felt the need to share it with the world.

Degraded English

Pussy, beaver, box, and Peter
Now are deemed obscene.
Grass and cherry, words are very
Changed in what they mean.

Niger's now spelled "Nyger"
For those who can't pronounce.
Say miserly, not niggardly,
To keep from getting trounced.

Rake is still acceptable,
But what to call a hoe -
Now that is means something rude?
I'm sure that I don't know.

Donkey, you can't call an ass.
Dog, you can't call a bitch.
Your grandma's hair can't be called hoar.
'Cause who knows what is which?

A tart is no longer pie
And balls aren't children's toys.
A trick is not a harmless prank
That everyone enjoys.

Call the boy richard.
Don't ever call him Dick.
And if you're wounded by a pin,
Don't say you feel a prick.

The children can be happy now,
But nevermore be gay.
And call a person's actions queer?
They'll haul your butt away.

No ends of cigarettes implied;
We used to call them butts.
And god forbid you should attempt
To ever eat some nuts.

If you have people helping you,
You'd better call them maids,
Attendants or assistants.
Never say that you have aids.

I'm angered by distorted words
When none of it means Jack.
These smutty innuendos -
I want my language back!
mood: Tired now. Sleep later.
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(no subject)
06:59pm 12/10/2004 (UTC)
a hyperintelligent shade of the colour blue
*laughs* Yes, you do. :-D
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(no subject)
09:33pm 12/10/2004 (UTC)
Too true.
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(no subject)
11:00pm 12/10/2004 (UTC)
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(no subject)
10:38pm 13/10/2004 (UTC)
Jessica Rose
sweet. couldnt have put it better myself. your mom rocks!
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