Capnkeez

These are just some word of mouth toasts I've learned over the years, And I thought I'd share them with you.

Here's to the girls in the little red shoes,
They smoke all your dope and drink all your booze.
They lost their cherry and that's a sin,
But they still have the box that the cherry came in.


A Christmas one, I'm sure you've heard or at least heard a version of.

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was sober, not even a mouse.

Momma in the whorehouse, Daddy in jail,
I'd just settled down for a nice piece of tail.

All of a sudden I heard such a clatter,
And I sprang from my girl to see what's the matter.

I ran to the window quick as a flash,
Slipped on a beer can and busted my ass.

Out on the lawn jackin' his dick,
I knew at that moment, it must be St. Nick.

Down through the chimney like a bat out of hell,
I knew right away that the bastard had fell.

He filled our stockings with rubbers and beer,
and an electric dick for the family queer.

He stuck his finger up his nose,
cut a fart and up he rose.

I heard him exclaim as he took off in flight,
Fuck y'all, It's been a hell of a night.

Salem

Haha I'd never heard either of them, but they're both really funny.

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You're just an empty cage girl, if you kill the bird.

LoganSnake

Another variation:

'Twas the night before Christmas, and boy was it neat.
The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat.
The doors were all bolted, the phone off the hook,
It was time for some nooky, by hook or by crook.
Momma in her teddy and I in the nude,
Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube.
When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,
That I lost my boner, and momma went dry.
Up to the window I sprang like an elf,
Tore back the shade while she played with herself.
The moon on the crest of the snowman we'd built,
Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.
With a fat little driver, half out of the sled,
A sock in his ear and a bra on his head.
Sure as I'm speaking, he was high as a kite,
And he yelled to his team, but it didn't sound right.
Whoa sh*thead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz,
Either slow down this rig or I'll cut off your nuts.
Look out for the lamp post, and don't hit the tree,
Quit shaking the sleigh, 'cause I gotta go pee.
They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,
Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.
And then from the roof we heard such a clatter,
As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.
I was donning my jock, to cover my ass,
When down the chimmney Santa came with a crash.
His suit was al smelly with perfume galore,
He looked like a bum and smelled like a whore.
"That was some brothel," he said with a smile,
"The reindeer are pooped, and I'll just stay awhile"
He walked to the kitchen for himself poured a drink,
Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.
I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee,
The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.
Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,
But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.
The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,
The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.
A box filled with condoms was Santa's next find,
And six pair of panties, the edible kind.
A bra without nipples, a penis extension,
And several more things I shouldn't even mention.
A french tickler, a G-string, and all types of oil,
And a dildo so long that it lay in a coil.
"This stuff ain't for kids, Mrs. Santa will sh*t,
So I'll leave 'em here, and then I'll just split."
He filled every stocking and then took his leave,
With one tiny butt plug stuck under his sleeve.
He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,
Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.
In time he was seated, took reigns of his hitch,
Saying,"Take me home, Rudolf. This night's been a bitch!"
The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,
"The best thing about pussy is you can't wear it out!!"

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There is a core and it's hardcore. All is hardcore when made with love. The love is voice of savage soul. This savage love is understructable.

Given enough time all gods and goddesses die, they are then merely replaced with new mythology.

CinnamonGirl

Couple of my favorites:

"Here's to the men we love
And the men we fuck
And may they never meet."


"Champagne for my real friends; real pain for my sham friends."

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"If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead."


"Never trust a woman who loves the blues."

Crack

When Christ turned water into wine
There were no drys to scold and whine;
Today prohibitors would rail
And send the Son of God to jail.

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Crack, you and I are long overdue for a vicious bout of mansex.

~Halx

Daniel_

This is a variation on a Royal Navy toast "Wives and Girlfriends, may they never meet".

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╔═════════════════════════════════════════╗
Overhead, the Albatross hangs motionless upon the air,
And deep beneath the rolling waves,
In labyrinths of Coral Caves,
The Echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand;
And everthing is Green and Submarine
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