3.  Procrastination Song, vols. I-II

I.

White and fluffy, warm and deep,
Wish I had another sheep.
Cloven hooves and beady eyes,
I'd like to be between their thighs.
Tripped out on testosterone,
I'll find a sheep to call my own,
They pant and gasp and buck in fear,
When I ram it in their rear.
I woo them and then tie them down,
Then check to see who is around,
My blood runs hot at this juncture,
Fresh sheep anus, ripe for puncture,
To some this poem may seem quite rude,
I wrote it for our good friend Jude,
'Cause during work, when we are bored,
We talk about the sheep we've scored.

		- Manfred, Lord Genital

II.

From "The Memoirs of Ronald Reagan," page 72:

as the daylight begins to fade,
I'm looking for a flock to raid,
finding ewes well in their prime,
what a delightful hobby, mine!
grabbing each delighful creature,
to sample pleasures they must feature,
the zipper opens up this scene,
before entering caverns so serene,
that I must lubricate before I dive,
and hope the sheep remains alive,
because there's nothing better for me,
than warm sheep flesh around my peewee,
so every night as life slows down,
check out a pasture, I'm around.

		- Samuel Taylor Cholera

	(But honestly, why shouldn't there be more sheep dating?  You go
to a bar, you pick up some member of your target sex, take them back to
your/their apartment, fuck, and then depart...meaning?  value?  Modern
college dating seems to be this find-fellatio-fuck-forget system, which
is pretty valueless beyond the simple sensual pleasure...but this is to
be expected in a country where most families are shattered.  So what's
that different about doing a sheep?  Remember, all sheep are inherently
consenting - Ed.)