Bonsoir, bonsoir et bien sûr bonsoir !
Je vais écrire ici un poème en anglais composé par Raph et moi-même sur la personne de Digby (Vince). C’est un poème à deux mains (on en avait chacun une main dans le dos) dans le pur style de la littérature anglophone norvégienne médiévale.
En italique je mets ce que Raph a composé et en normal ce que mon esprit fertile à sortit.
Digby died today
He threw his brain into the bay
He’s stupid yes !
But he has a large Georgios !
A gorgeus Georgios !
His hair was in a mess
And his eyes were insane !
He’ll never know fame
Exept in the beluga’s community
Wich smells like Mandela’s pussy
This smell was worst that the time he fucked a seal
A very very very dark time without any meal
But what a splendor for his sex-appeal
He looked like an happy happy meal
Slamon has never been so salty
And his stomach so hungry
That’s why he was call Digby
He was not a blerrie yankee
But his John Tomas was so juicy
As a Boer’s one must be
Some kind of strawberry
That grows in heaven’s shruberry
Now he’s dead, he’ll meet god
God has a moustache, he’s out of the mode
Like he used to say : “You have a moustache, you like to eat ass”
Driving around in his car, he came out of the mass
With his gloves that he liked to eat
He says to god “You have a drink ?”
And this is the end, my only friend the end.
Citation du jour : "Un chibre oui mais au kiwi"
