Was Sandra a Fluke?
A reboot, a rebuke?
I heard that her name’s pronounced “fluck.”
If that is the case
Reserve a safe space:
The jokes write themselves. Darn the luck.
Here in our sorority
We make it a priority
To concentrate on clothed contraception.
Tens dressed to the nines
Landed gentry with gland mines
Liberté, égalité, fraternity deception.
For ladies who dress so enticing
like cake with a delicious icing
the question that remains
that give men such great pains
is how much is the final pricing?
And she’ll tease you
She’ll unease you
All the better just to please you
She’s precocious and she knows just
What it takes to make a bro blush
She got Greta von Susteren sighs
She’s got bitter Davos eyes
She’s not a girl who dresses, much
Do, do, do, do, do, do,
Oh yeah
She’s well acquainted with the touch of the pervert hand
Like a liberal in a Weinstein meme
The Man kept her down with a multicultural #MeToo under hobnail boots
Lying about his sex while Hussein’s busy working overtime
Soap-opera impression of her mate (with Trump hate)
Donated to the National Tryst
Hello, baby
Yeah, this is the Big SJWarrior speakin’
Ha ha ha ha ha, oh you sweet thing
Do I what?
Will I what?
Oh baby, you know what I dislike:
Chantilly lace
And a pretty face
And a pony tail hangin’ down
And a wiggle in the walk
And a giggle in the talk
Making the world go ’round, round, round
There ain’t nothin’ in the world
Like a bigot girl
That makes me act so funny
Make me spend Mom’s money
Make me feel a real loser, like a long-time accuser
Like a grrrl, oh baby, that’s such a lie
What’s that baby, but, but, but?
Oh honey
But?
Oh baby, you know how I lie
Lady Millenials you got it beat,
using the government to make ends meet.
They’ll give you money so you can pay your rent
and you’ll claim it was your right to have it sent.
Lady Millenials you got it sweet,
changing your mind after the meet.
Don’t like the sex, he wouldn’t pay your rent
so you’ll claim it was rape by the Gent.
Friday night you’ll go crazy like a nutcase
Sunday morning creep-out and your not done
Monday’s complaint will truth not have a trace
See how we’re stunned.
Lady Millenials, babies at your best
Who will believe you ‘cept the Press?
See how we’re stunned.
Lady Millenials lying from your bed
Thinking “No” when you’re saying “Yes” instead.
Tuesday regrets are never ending
Wednesday morning tell the papers it was done
Thursday night your story needed mending
See what they run
Lady Millenials, children never grown
Wonder why you don’t grow up and go home.
She was more like a drama queen
From a movie scene
I said, “Don’t mind, but what do you mean
I am the one
Who made advances — on the floor — and it’s wrong?”
She said I am the one
Who made advances — on the floor — and it’s wrong
She told me her name was Libely Jean
As she caused a scene
Then every head turned with eyes that dreamed of being the one
Who will dance on the floor when it’s wrong
People always told me, “Be careful of what you do.
And don’t go around making eye contact.”
And mother always told me, “Ah, be careful of your glove,
And be careful of what you do
‘Cause the lie becomes the truth.”
Billie Jean is now #MeToo
She’s just a girl who claims that I’m a demon
But the code’s not mine, son
She says I’m a demon
But the code’s not mine, son
There was a young lady from Vassar
Who heard the word “antimacassar”
And alerted the nation
To macassar denigration
Well, her professor was required to pass her.
A Lady of Yale had some distress
while regretting the act she’ll confess
she may have found him deplorable
and the sex became most uncomfortable
So now she carries around her own mattress.
Women would be better off not dressing for “Yes” when they want “No”.
Was Sandra a Fluke?
A reboot, a rebuke?
I heard that her name’s pronounced “fluck.”
If that is the case
Reserve a safe space:
The jokes write themselves. Darn the luck.
Here in our sorority
We make it a priority
To concentrate on clothed contraception.
Tens dressed to the nines
Landed gentry with gland mines
Liberté, égalité, fraternity deception.
She’s a blonde
That even Bond
Would count among nay-sayers;
Her clothes are paid
By Rue vs. Laid
And provided by taxpayers.
Gloria Allred, I presume? Or her daughter?
For ladies who dress so enticing
like cake with a delicious icing
the question that remains
that give men such great pains
is how much is the final pricing?
And she’ll tease you
She’ll unease you
All the better just to please you
She’s precocious and she knows just
What it takes to make a bro blush
She got Greta von Susteren sighs
She’s got bitter Davos eyes
She’s not a girl who dresses, much
Do, do, do, do, do, do,
Oh yeah
She’s well acquainted with the touch of the pervert hand
Like a liberal in a Weinstein meme
The Man kept her down with a multicultural #MeToo under hobnail boots
Lying about his sex while Hussein’s busy working overtime
Soap-opera impression of her mate (with Trump hate)
Donated to the National Tryst
She’s gonna do Metoo cries
She’s got bitter regretful eyes. ?
I do LIKE editorial improvements!
There’s nothing like suddenly seeing something you were blind to, before.
….And that’s why the lady is a tramp!
…And that’s why shady ladies hate the Trump.
— the Chairman of the Broads
Hello, baby
Yeah, this is the Big SJWarrior speakin’
Ha ha ha ha ha, oh you sweet thing
Do I what?
Will I what?
Oh baby, you know what I dislike:
Chantilly lace
And a pretty face
And a pony tail hangin’ down
And a wiggle in the walk
And a giggle in the talk
Making the world go ’round, round, round
There ain’t nothin’ in the world
Like a bigot girl
That makes me act so funny
Make me spend Mom’s money
Make me feel a real loser, like a long-time accuser
Like a grrrl, oh baby, that’s such a lie
What’s that baby, but, but, but?
Oh honey
But?
Oh baby, you know how I lie
Lady Millenials you got it beat,
using the government to make ends meet.
They’ll give you money so you can pay your rent
and you’ll claim it was your right to have it sent.
Take Two.
Lady Millenials you got it sweet,
changing your mind after the meet.
Don’t like the sex, he wouldn’t pay your rent
so you’ll claim it was rape by the Gent.
Friday night you’ll go crazy like a nutcase
Sunday morning creep-out and your not done
Monday’s complaint will truth not have a trace
See how we’re stunned.
Lady Millenials, babies at your best
Who will believe you ‘cept the Press?
See how we’re stunned.
Lady Millenials lying from your bed
Thinking “No” when you’re saying “Yes” instead.
Tuesday regrets are never ending
Wednesday morning tell the papers it was done
Thursday night your story needed mending
See what they run
Lady Millenials, children never grown
Wonder why you don’t grow up and go home.
Bill Clinton enters: Beat it. Beat it. Beat it.
[Censored]
Moonwalking through door: Ice ice baby.
[continues moonwalking]
“Bill Me, Jean”
She was more like a drama queen
From a movie scene
I said, “Don’t mind, but what do you mean
I am the one
Who made advances — on the floor — and it’s wrong?”
She said I am the one
Who made advances — on the floor — and it’s wrong
She told me her name was Libely Jean
As she caused a scene
Then every head turned with eyes that dreamed of being the one
Who will dance on the floor when it’s wrong
People always told me, “Be careful of what you do.
And don’t go around making eye contact.”
And mother always told me, “Ah, be careful of your glove,
And be careful of what you do
‘Cause the lie becomes the truth.”
Billie Jean is now #MeToo
She’s just a girl who claims that I’m a demon
But the code’s not mine, son
She says I’m a demon
But the code’s not mine, son
There was a young lady from Vassar
Who heard the word “antimacassar”
And alerted the nation
To macassar denigration
Well, her professor was required to pass her.
There was a young lady from Yale
Who said that if sex were for sale . . .
… then a feminist logo
Would warrant a BOGO . . .
A Lady of Yale had some distress
while regretting the act she’ll confess
she may have found him deplorable
and the sex became most uncomfortable
So now she carries around her own mattress.