Why Should We Store Tins Of Beans Upside...
Food & Drink0 min ago
What's the name of that slippery oil?
53 Answers
Can anyone remember the name of that oil stuff?
It was mentioned on a thread recently ... I think sqad mentioned it.
You make yourselves all slippery, and I think you get a plastic sheet with it.
It was mentioned on a thread recently ... I think sqad mentioned it.
You make yourselves all slippery, and I think you get a plastic sheet with it.
Answers
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Oh the real Bard from the Lakes ponders,
STRANGE fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to tell,
But in the Lover's ear alone,
What once to me befell.
When she I loved looked every day
Fresh as plastic in June,
I to her Brighton cottage bent my way,
Beneath an evening-moon.
Upon the moon I fixed my eye,
All over the wide lea;
With quickening pace my mattress do nigh
Those inflatables so dear to me.
And now we reached the Bathroom lot;
And, as we climbed the hill,
The sinking moon to Jayne's cot
Came near, and nearer still.
In one of those sweet dreams I slept,
Kind Nature's gentlest oil!
And all the while my eyes I kept
On the descending coil.
Her ardor moved on;peach by peach
She orgasmed, and never stopped:
When down behind the Brightom beach,
At once, the bright moon dropped.
What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
Into a Lover's head!
"O mercy!" to myself I cried,
"The Oil's brill but the inflatable's died!"
In memory of Wordsworth 1799.
STRANGE fits of passion have I known:
And I will dare to tell,
But in the Lover's ear alone,
What once to me befell.
When she I loved looked every day
Fresh as plastic in June,
I to her Brighton cottage bent my way,
Beneath an evening-moon.
Upon the moon I fixed my eye,
All over the wide lea;
With quickening pace my mattress do nigh
Those inflatables so dear to me.
And now we reached the Bathroom lot;
And, as we climbed the hill,
The sinking moon to Jayne's cot
Came near, and nearer still.
In one of those sweet dreams I slept,
Kind Nature's gentlest oil!
And all the while my eyes I kept
On the descending coil.
Her ardor moved on;peach by peach
She orgasmed, and never stopped:
When down behind the Brightom beach,
At once, the bright moon dropped.
What fond and wayward thoughts will slide
Into a Lover's head!
"O mercy!" to myself I cried,
"The Oil's brill but the inflatable's died!"
In memory of Wordsworth 1799.
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