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Natalie® the Manatee®
Fatalie's a dud like a spud
-full of fishy crud and mud.
Ask any topic of sci-fi tough
-answers with her porkhole stuffed.
To be her must really suck by the hour
-to bed her plank must really cost bags of flour.
Craftmatic® beds fear her hiney
-crispy Cremes® her face shiny.
Udders like a great cow
-underwear like a ship's bow.
Nothing edible has eluded her hips
-nothing male has passed her lips.
Terrible is the fate of her bathroom scale
-terrible is the fat of her crack scales.
Her Stupidity matched only by her slimy tail
-her husband is blind and cannot smell.
One whiff of her yeast would make him deceased
-only a can of Raid® keeps the bugs out of reach.
She buys her Trek® uniforms by the bolt
-surely Ahab makes her tents in revolt.
Often an evil smile forms to a grin
-only her ass exceeds her chins.
When nude at a gym for fat hags
-waddle's mistaken for punching bags.
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Now, the apology...
We're sorry you're hideous but Fat Nat's like a bottle of Heinz®, to
get her to go, you have to slap her on the bottom.
HTH.
Uck-Fa Ou-Ya
You're tongue tickles my utt-ba. NEXT Trek Twit.