After a horrid mix of beer and wine And too much time spent in a darkened barFrom the dense crowd emerged a woman fineAs 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 ownA cry, “Last call!” could not our kissing ceaseShe 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 careOr else you’ll kiss fat girls with armpit hair.
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