Hearing groans, sound of a goad:
"Yikes, this clown's a bore!"
Slighting this throng; sniggers are a jest's bane;
I think tinklin' wells in my bone.
Now the spotlight seems so far away,
And I feel like I want to run,
But on the stage I will have to stay--
I just hope there's not a movement spawn.

Oh no! Brickbats. . .jest-fare writer
Finds it scary, but I must stay.
Oh no! Snickers. . .jest-fare writer
Doing standup just doesn't pay.

"Bad shite!" I hear someone intone;
"Bad night! I'm thinking, disgusted.
I'd like to pull out a gun and slay
The guy who bitched:
I'd blow him away. . .dusted.
Then it starts again--the nasty words;
I believe this must be ahole heaven.
"Why?!" I cry. I've got fear in my thighs.
You know, if I get through this hell. . .
Have a Seven and Seven

Big ole wet fare; finer
Drink I could have comin' my way.
But now slick-toned wet hair's briny:
From my head streams a sweaty spray.

Touch my crown: dew drippin' down;
Feelin' heat, my head pounds.
I'm gonna keep on peepin' on
Unless a big hook grips my neck, stifles sound.
No! I go on with un-constipation;
I think I will surely pee.
I'm fear fraught; my c0ck's not caulked up;
Then there is runny sh!t comin' down from my skivvies.

Oh, no! Big hole's wet there; drier
Is how I wish I were today.
Oh, no! Big hole's wet there; drier
If my humor were, then I'd slay.

Oh, no! Big hole's wet there; liner
Might have helped to keep it at bay.
Oh, no! Big hole's wet there; finer
Would I feel had it not gave way.

Uh-oh, uh-oh! Big hole's wet there--dire!
Carry me to the throne.
Oh-no! Big hole's wet there--wiper!
Clear the air of this B[M] pong.