Today, I was reading "Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, think I'll go eat worms" and my mind retreated to a gentler, more innocent time. I was just a boy, happy and care free. Snips and snails and puppy-dog tails and all that good crap.


Little boys have the capability to be obscenely, shockingly, vulgar and vile. Immature little perverts every one!

Without a scant pube on their genitalia, these loathsome imps boast their sexual vocabulary proudly in the company of their peers, like medals! "Boner!", "Blow-Job", "Douche", "Stiffy!", "Tits!", "Queer", "Pussy!", "Hard-on!"

Of course the little bastards have no real understanding of the significance of all of this. It is sex! Sex means that you are not a little sissy momma's boy, like "Ian down at he end of the block. Let's jump him and take his bike!"

Cherished among all else are the little smutty rhymes that boys make up. Spawned from the writhing hormonal cauldron of pre-adolescence. Mutating like a virus. Passed down from older cousins and from the admirable cool kids in class. Arcane perversity learned from one homeroom to the next and from year to year.

Boys put great stock in these loathsome sonnets, and ones esteem rises exponentially when a particularly nasty bit of sexual drivel is learned abroad and recited to the local gang.

Ladies, you will remember that your husbands and boyfriends are full of germs.

Gentlemen, the gap-toothed little shits within will break out in shit eating grins.

In the spirit of LoveQuest 2011: Chocolates, Sonnets, and Alcohol I now share a most loathsome melody, and yes it has a melody, which I learned one year near Burlington, Wisconsin at the YMCA's Camp MacLean when I was a filthy, vile, horrid, little bastard.

Down by the Cherry Tree...
First time She showed it to Me...
It was -
Dark -
Hairy -
Had a Big Crack -
Looked like a Jungle to Me...

So I whipped out my Hairy Ba-Nan-Na!
And I shoved it up The Crack.
I heard a loud scream
And filled It with cream,
And That -
Was the end-
Of That!

Nine months later at The Hospital...
The Doctor said to me...
"How did you do it?
Why did you do it?
Why don't you do it to me?"

So when all your little angels are writing their little valentine cards which they will put in the little paper sacks decorated with cut-out hearts taped to the back of their school-mates chairs this Valentine's Day along with the "Be Mine" candy hearts, hum a few bars won't you?

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