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Bad news from the surgeon.

“Bad news,” said a sad Dr. Hune,
“The surgery ended too soon.
We barely got started
Just when your spouse farted,
We fled from the obnoxious fumes.”

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This entry was posted on May 19, 2017 at 7:01 pm and is filed under limericks, poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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