The Real Housewives of Medieval France
“What? I in love?” he tells her. “Hardly!
I find your jealousy ungodly.
I’m nearly dead from making love,
And this is all you’re thinking of!” […]
“What? I in love?” he tells her. “Hardly!
I find your jealousy ungodly.
I’m nearly dead from making love,
And this is all you’re thinking of!” […]
–“What are you asking for it, tell?”
–“My lady, for a fuck it’s yours.”
–“Saint Peter help me now, because
I haven’t any fuck to trade!” […]
“The imp came to the gates of Hell
Toting both bag and fart as well,
And tossing the bag down when he entered,
And thereupon the fart was vented.” […]
“And behold the iron fell out of the middle, right on the head of the cheating brass founder, killed him on the spot and passed straight through his carcass and crashed to the ground, carrying his bowels and genitals with it.” […]
“May it roast in the fires of Hell!
You’ve grabbed your wiener, I surmise.” […]
““Much turns out otherwise than one expects. I had thought to sleep with Thora Skagadottir, the earl’s wife” – and he shook his member and then pulled up his trousers.” […]
“Before you turn to messing /
With my body and cunt, a blessing /
You must pronounce and make as well /
The sign of the cross, for I tell” […]
“And therefore a peasant befouls
The fairest spots and moves his bowels” […]
“Yet he had often held her tight
And naked in his arms at night,
And it only increased her ardor
To feel his parsnip growing harder” […]
“Cunt-bit, sorry shit, worthless git, hardened hide / Wasted wether, tawdry tether, evil adder: I defy you” […]
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