I'm just sitting around Writing shit And drinking Too much beer When suddenly Too my suprise A little bug appears I try to swat it But miss it just And spill my beer On me So I decide To get the matches And burn the sucker Out Suddenly I drop the match ARGHH!! The beer is all over my trousers. WHOOOSHHH!!! And I start running, and screaming, 'Argh! My knobs on fire! AHHHHH! THE PAIN!!' So I run downstairs and plunge my meat and 2 veg into a bucket. (when I say meat, the only meal it represents now is penis brulee) And it's about then a little thought enters my mind: 'AH! FUCK! IT'S BLEACH! I'VE PUT MY KNOB IN SOME BLEACH!' So I yank my cock out, but the bucket falls over and splashes across the wall. The wall has a socket Shit 'FuZAAPPPP!OW!ShZZAPP!AH!AH!AH!' And somewhere in the middle of it all, I lost my sanity and started writing poetry for this site. It's been down-hill ever since. (Footnote: The surgeons only saved 15% of my knob, or 9 inches as I prefer to call it. I also got a DIY circumcision. And it hurt. Shit loads. Hence the bad attitude.)