Islamic pubs and bars are the worst.
You can't drink alcohol or dance.
Women can get stoned though, no questions asked.
Islamic pubs and bars are the worst.
You can't drink alcohol or dance.
Women can get stoned though, no questions asked.
What did Cinderella say to Prince Charming? “Want to see if it fits?”
what do you call a white guy who can actually dance? jewish
What do you call an Eskimo stripper?
A frosty-tute.
What’s a rapper’s favorite EXERCISE?
Flexin’
How do we know Cinderella is a virgin?
Because she runs away from balls.
What song did Michael Jackson come up with after his first sleepover with the kid? Just beat it
What’s a vegetables favorite dance
The cabbage patch
What's a booty's favorite dance move?
THE BUM BOUNCE
What do a small pair of underpants and small dance room have in common no ballroom
In the realm of poetry's grace, Where words dare to embrace, A request comes with a quirky plea, To give life to what the eyes may see.
"Pussy lussy cussy," it begins, A playful phrase that surely spins, And though the words may raise a smile, Let's craft a verse that goes the extra mile.
In free verse, we'll dance and sway, Allowing thoughts to have their say, For poetry knows no bounds or rules, It's a canvas for expression, where freedom fuels.
But let's remember, dear friend, To keep our words kind and lend, Respect to all, in every line, For poetry's power can truly shine.
So, let's journey on this poetic quest, With words that honor and truly impress, For in the realm of art and verse, We find beauty, in each line immersed.
And though "Pussy lussy cussy" may make us smile, Let's seek inspiration that runs deep, mile after mile, For poetry's magic lies in its ability, To touch hearts, souls, and set thoughts free.
In this short verse, may you find delight, As we paint with words, both bold and light, So let us write, with grace and art, A poem that sings straight from the heart.
May our days be abundant, a dance of delight, Will I navigate life with courage, taking flight. May our journey be a beauty, a blessing so sweet, I will celebrate friendships, where hearts and souls meet.
May our nights be bright, with laughter and cheer, May we live with love, eliminating every fear. I will grow in kindness, a serenade of grace, May our lives be a marvel, a splendid embrace.
Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A man with a spirit untamed, untold. With eyes that pierce through the darkest night, He walks a path that's far from light.
His steps are loud, his presence strong, A force of nature, where he belongs. Through the chaos, he finds his way, Leaving footprints that never fade.
A rebel soul, unafraid to speak, His words drip with passion, so unique. He dances with danger, embraces the unknown, Challenging limits, into the wild he's thrown.
No rules can bind him, no walls can contain, Frank Bulgin sets fire to the mundane. He paints the sky with vibrant hues, A kaleidoscope of dreams he pursues.
In his mind, a symphony of thoughts, An artist's palette, where inspiration is sought. He weaves words like a masterful bard, Creating tapestries that leave us marred.
With each verse, he unravels his soul, Unveiling the depths that make him whole. His poetry, a window to his essence, A glimpse into a world of fearless presence.
Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A maverick, a legend yet to be told. His spirit roams, forever untamed, A beacon of courage, never to be tamed.
In the realm of whispers and shadows, Where dreams dance on the edge of reality, There resides a peculiar soul, Known as Alexander Fisher.
With eyes that hold secrets untold, And a heart that beats to its own rhythm, He tiptoes through the night, On a quest to embrace the extraordinary.
His hands, delicate as a feather's touch, Reach out to the heavens above, Grasping at ethereal strands of wonder, In the form of vibrant, floating balloons.
With each step, the balloons whisper, Carrying tales of forgotten dreams, And the untamed yearnings of the heart, Alexander Fisher's silent companions.
He creeps through moonlit streets, An enigma in a world seeking answers, As the balloons trail behind him, Painting the night with magic's hues.
Together, they wander through the darkness, Where imagination blooms and thrives, In a delicate ballet of dreams, Alexander Fisher's fantastical symphony.
The world watches, captivated, By this balladeer of whimsical desires, As he weaves his spell, one balloon at a time, Enchanting souls with his ethereal art.
For in his delicate grasp, balloons become more, They transcend their earthly existence, Becoming vessels of hope and joy, Guiding hearts towards the realm of possibility.
Alexander Fisher, the dreamer, the poet, Creeps through life, a gentle force, With his balloons as his faithful companions, He reminds us to embrace the extraordinary.
In the realm of the mind, Where thoughts wander undefined, This sentence emerges, unconfined, A whimsical phrase, quite inclined.
It dances freely, unrestrained, No structure, no rules, it's unchained, A playful verse, with words unfeigned, The first to surface, unrestrained.
It holds no grandeur, nor deep insight, Just a simple thought, taking flight, A fleeting notion, shining bright, In the realm of words, it feels right.
This sentence, unburdened and free, Plays with language, wild and carefree, A tiny poem, as small as can be, Yet it speaks volumes, silently.
So let it wander, let it roam, Across the page, it finds a home, Unfettered by rhythm, it freely roams, This sentence, the first, stands alone.