How Odd

The two were really no match, she called him names like Duh and Snitch, he answered her, you silly snatch and mother is a crazy witch. Their conversations, filled with stunts ad hominem attacks galore both were, what you could call the runts the children of a common oar. Wood is the origin of man the carver chops off little bits, but all behaviour in the can must be restricted, so no Brits, they are their best when milk is used and sweetness from the honeypot, rough treatment gets you mad and bruised inject it like a polio shot! Well I can see that I digress, all nudity as made by God, leaves man to value woman's dress which, like this poem, may be odd