11-04-2013, 05:31 PM
Vogon Poetry for the Win:
Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturitions are to me,
As plurdled gabbleblotchits,
On a lurgid bee, That mordiously hath bitled out,
Its earted jurtles, Into a rancid festering confectious inner-sphincter.
[drowned out by moaning and screaming]
Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles,
Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts,
And living glupules frart and slipulate,
Like jowling meated liverslime, Groop,
I implore thee, my foonting turling dromes,
And hooptiously drangle me,
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts
with my blurglecruncheon, See if I don't.
Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturitions are to me,
As plurdled gabbleblotchits,
On a lurgid bee, That mordiously hath bitled out,
Its earted jurtles, Into a rancid festering confectious inner-sphincter.
[drowned out by moaning and screaming]
Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles,
Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts,
And living glupules frart and slipulate,
Like jowling meated liverslime, Groop,
I implore thee, my foonting turling dromes,
And hooptiously drangle me,
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts
with my blurglecruncheon, See if I don't.