The Rogering

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Impudent Creeper

Impudent creeper must fancy how she screws,

Impudent creeper waits always for her news,

Her bunny rabbits post at dawn,

Her noon day cupcakes on the lawn,

Her midnight snaps with no clothes on,

Lost in dream girl vexing views,

Impudent creeper, dare to like her luscious lips,

Impudent creeper, fancy pumps beneath her hips,

Her woman with a parasol,

Her quotes from some known know it all,

Her…

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"Ew!"

“Ew!” http://wp.me/s4pXhU-ew

“Conventional wisdom has regarded low self-esteem as an important cause of violence, but the opposite view is theoretically viable. An interdisciplinary review of evidence about aggression, crime, and violence contradicted the view that low self-esteem is an important cause. Instead, violence appears to be most commonly a result of threatened egotism—that is, highly favorable views of self that…

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Ace

Ace http://wp.me/s4pXhU-ace

News on the scene calling obscene,

The photos around the place,

Girl in a gown wearing a frown,

Blood dripping stained her lace,

Somebody strong knew it was wrong,

But carved away half of her face,

Buckets of blood spilled on the rug

And onto her pillow case,

Sexual assault, somebody’s fault,

These hairs may tell us his race,

Might it be true some man she knew,

Suffered a brief fall from grace,

P…

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The Rogering recording of “Paint The Town”.
Written & Produced by Roger King
Roger King sang the song and played all the instruments.
This song was recorded in the United States.
The original lyrics to “Paint The Town” are as follows:
“Whose mysterious eyes are those,
Changing with each sun,
Who’s the temptress of the rose,
Instigating fun,
Won’t you help me out tonight
Help me paint the town
When the man is out of sight,
We could paint the town
Who are you baby,
Where can you be found,
We could be out frolicking insane,
Who’s that one in black I see,
Would she paint the town,
Who’s that with her ex-lover,
Treats her like a clown,
Kindly step away from him and,
Help me paint the town,
Why hang out with one like him,
Come and paint the town,
Who are you baby,
Who do you want to play now,
Your world in fog went crazy,
And you should paint the town,
What time must you be home,
Before they call the hounds,
We could have a load of laughs,
Might even shed some pounds,
Please come out and twirl around,
Help us paint the town,
All you lost may here be found,
Come and paint the town,
Who are you, baby,
Write your number down,
Why cry alone at home,
When we could paint the town.”

Flushing Curb Service

In a hundredth of a second the Venus flytrap closes,

Buzzing fly, the devil, welcomes into the void, pestilence,

To the fourth ring of hell to bite at the asses of the ambitious,

Those tearing the taffy to acquire square footage,

Limousine service to the airport curbside kiosk,

“Watch your step, lady, welcome to La Guardia;

What’s your destination today?”

“I’m not going to Watts; I’m heading to…

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