After a horrid mix of beer and wine
And too much time spent in a darkened bar
From the dense crowd emerged a woman fine
As cute as any, at least from afar.

“She’s a nine, at least; nay, she’s even more!”
My friends urged me on but behind my back
Said, “In a room of hags she’s still a four.”
I just stared, intrigued, at her ample rack.
We found a corner we could call our own
A cry, “Last call!” could not our kissing cease
She rubbed her breasts and roared a manly groan.
Then lights flared on and I beheld a beast.
If you’re going to drink, do so with care
Or else you’ll kiss fat girls with armpit hair.

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