"W thought we smelt the afterglow
of sexual desire.
We snorted more and...Blimey! Cor!
'Tis Drumpf's coiffure, afire --
which odor's not unlike some hot
ignited whitewall tire."
Uly Poe pens dogg'rel verse. "Such phun," puns Uly, "I disburse." The gamut runs from spam to worse. The matter posted...? Poe's diverse -- most, postcards from his universe, replies to grudges he must nurse. My summary...? Let me be terse: a mitzva, mostly. (Not a curse.)
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PWWL is pleased to acknowledge the participation of friend-of-blog JD in creating this item. Collaboration in name, collaboration in pro... -
Sphynx's riddle...? Snare for fools: Pyramids at Giza. Pepperoni plopp'd near tools: gear -- amid sat pizza. Moral: T...
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