DRUNK ON VULVA

Once there lived a strange Russian man who--among his other oddities--never touched a drop of liquor in his life, not even a sip of his country's favorite drink: Vodka.

He did not mind the contempt this brought from his buddies, for he boasted proudly he was ALWAYS DRUNK, drunk not on Vodka, but drunk on vulva.

He explained to curious ears as follows:

"Whew! Oh, hold me steady now! I'm drunk on vulva.
Can't live without its folds,creases and buds, its
intoxicating suds which I take straight
no hygiene chasers, please,
they spoil the tasteful tease.

I love to watch how a vulva opens and closes
why that's infinity seen
in very sharp focus!

Yes, a vulva is a divine little flower
whose sexual stirrings can ruffle its shape
turn the folds a different way
or part them wide
with a flash of silken insides
so wet for the world's favorite ride

And once a month it sports this nice red color
that makes me admire it
as if I were some deep artistic feller

Oh, hold me steady now! I'm drunk on vulva.
Don't worry, I'll find my way.
Near or far they always look good.
Those vertical slits hiding succulent lips
up close I'll open and find
a tiny hors d'oeuvre waiting
under its little hood that will
make me so happy
start such a kinky mood
I'll have to croon a merry tune
and go hunt the next vulva real soon!

I'm drunk on vulva, bearded or bald,
its many charms make me
spend my very last dollar.

ONE MORE SHOT OF
VULVA TO QUENCH MY THIRST!

ONE MORE SHOT! I always holler...."