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Quotes about smelly, page 5

Hindu Wedding On A Jasmine Day

The season of JASMINE is blooming.
Wedding is on a day of JASMINE.
The couple are ready for the holy-bond.
Guests are ready with their blessing-band.

Baskets of garlands and stringed JASMINE,
With decorative JASMINE tassles is pleasing.
The fragrance of JASMINE is ambrosial!
Breathtaking! JASMINES' aroma is celestial.

Her long plait padded with JASMINES strung,
Atop with strands of JASMINE being swung,
The bride is given a garland of JASMINE.
Also the 'groom is given a garland of JASMINE.

The family deity is adorned with JASMINE.
The guests are given strands of JASMINE.
The couple garland each other in heck.
The 'groom ties an yellow thread around bride's neck.

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A Change of Fortune (from rags to riches)

A monster of depravity
Who never went to the lavatory
But got his trousers full of sh*t
And didn't care one little bit
Decided one day to come clean,
Admitting that it was obscene
To reek of excrement and p*ss.
He said, 'I can't go on like this,
It's driving folk right round the bend
And I haven't got a single friend!
I'm going to reform my life
And get a job and find a wife -
In a year or two you'll be surprised
I'm not the tramp whom you despised,
I'm sitting in my easy-chair
Well-dressed and very debonair,
The chap you thought was oh so smelly
Relaxing in front of his colour telly!
Surprising, isn't it? Most bizarre!
Here I sit smoking my cigar.

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A Pair Of Sneakers Bemoan Never Having A Day Off

When you were a baby a sleepin in your cot

Your feet were too small to fit us all

You could barely crawl in your wee teeny socks

And so I sat qute content in the loft

enjoying the freedom of endless days off!


But now you are grown to seventeen stone

You never give me a rest

Once your tootsies are in

I don't get a look in

As your feet rarely leave me alone

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The Movies

Movies are tricks, as is tele,
to allow evil demons,
that are really quite smelly
into this world, by viewing them,
then they create covens, evil dens,
and treat good people like battery hens,
ever taking rarely giving,
and telling you its holy,
when really it is naught but evil,
just like music, words and tele,
and dogs and cats,
or dogs and acts,
are not my buddies either,
its all pretence to get me to,
become a christian believer,
but its all pet cults, suicide too,
and all they do is manipulate you,
into suicide, or other ways,
to end the brightness of your days,
to bring you hell and little more,

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A right pair!

The tired shoes yawned,

They were unable to detach themselves from the feet

The tired feet yawned

Feeling trapped by the shoes and unable to escape

The first signs of agraphobia pressed in

Both were sick of the sight of each other

What a pair!

The hands tapped the table top idly

Refusing to release them,

Too busy composing a first and second draft

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Jochanal (after Wilde)

Now, John was not a bad looking dude-
a smelly diamond in the rough. All the same
when he snubbed her in the market place
she burned with shame.
'Mama', she complained, 'he was RUDE!
and clearly at blame.'

She was nonetheless a bit surprised,
when Herod, shaking off his trance
smiled and pledged her 'whatever'
merely for dancing a dance,
and when Mama commanded
'Child, his head'.

What could she do?
She must, as the law bid,
study to be a dutiful daughter;
so, richly scented, grazing his leg, she pled
for the simple gift
of John the Baptist's head.

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Calachuchi

when a Calachuchi is present in my hand
everything is ready and smelly

remembering the experiences I have
before, until today I’ll take it, all worth to
recall, for I will always bring the memories the
red flower you give and the white I
choose

and when I knew you will come, surely you're
welcome I will give you the yellow one, so that
you'll know the past has gone and I waited it for
so long to be with me, though you’re with
someone, this heart that made you honestly
love, my dear one..... please spread those
Calachuchi in the floor for me to lure

let me smell its undying beauty so everybody
will see, the tears that dwells in your heart
forever more darling, your sweet as a honey bee

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Oh, The Winter Is Here!

The farmer couldn’t hear the cock’s crowing,
Though it was six in the morning.
I fumbled for the clock, bedside
Because it was still dark outside.
Then it dawned upon me
Oh, the gloomy winter is here.

Along came blankets and quilts
Shoved inside for months, without care.
And the smell of mothballs filled the air.
Oh, the smelly winter is here.

I laid curled up snug in bed
Just five more minutes, I pleaded.
Oh, the inhibiting winter is here.

The weight of countless clothes
Made my movement slack,
As if carrying another person on my back.
Oh, the heavy and oppressive winter is here.

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A Canary, And Peanut Butter, And Jelly, Sandwitch.

I once ate a sandwich made of peanut-butter and jelly...
This sandwich, by someone, tasted quite rotten, and smelly.

Into my stomach, uneasily, it went down...
To my face, was sadly, put a frown.

I went to the hospital to have my stomach pumped, where I met a sailor...
Who obviously, had a bad tailor.

You might say, 'that this lad, was a seaman'...
But-for the Navy, he worked, and so-he was no, free man.

This seaman, could not swim...
You might say 'that he joined, on a whim'.

This non-swimming seaman, had a cat...
That was known by all, to eat mice, dogs, or even a bat.

One day this cat, ate a bat, that was owned by a witch...
This witch, got quite angry, at the cat that ate her bat, and

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5. School Dinners

I remember in the fifties, I stayed for my school dinners
At six sided tables, with six chairs to match
I remember on walls, having all the art class winners
Whilst the dinner ladies served our food by batch

I remember lots of water, in a very large glass jug
With a glass for every diner in its place
I remember as I poured, it would give out a sudden glug
Causing droplets that would often hit your face

I remember smelly cabbage, with lots of lumpy mash
A tray sliced up with equal bits of pie
I remember thick brown gravy, it landed with a splash
That could blind you if it got you in the eye

I remember all the puddings, with custard steaming hot
You could only have if finishing your greens
I remember all the groaning as we finished off the lot
And the sickly taste from piles of butter beans

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