Funny advice from a love-lorn lady.

The lady dropped her hanky
(itching for hanky-panky)
but nobody picked it up.
Stella was an ugly pup!
She could launch rockets
from nasal dockets.
The curves that were there
had hair everywhere--
a brilliant red.
She was skinny, not real keen,
and loved wearing bright green.
Her fingers were like pinchers
her teeth were pale yella dentures
thrust in her pocket.
Preparing to ‘docket it’
with legs elastic--
long, thin--like plastic.
Her bottom is lead.
Stella should have a fella
even with hair ‘umbrelled’.
Her belly shakes like jelly,
she loves watching telly.
This little sweetheart
doesn’t mind a fart.
She ain’t very rich,
resembles a witch . . .
is anxious to wed.
Her ears are floppy ‘Dumbo’s’
and both feet are huge, they’re jumbos.
Her laughter sounds like pig squeals
and she’s clumsy in heels.
She’ll squeeze you in two;
mimic what you do.
Though thickened snot drips
she licks it with flicks
and breaks the bed.
“Stella, phone call . . . a fella!”
Her grin spreads sunny yella.
“See, publicity is nice.”
So singles heed her advice:
“Word to the wise.
It pays . . . advertise.
You many not be cute,
may honk or toot
but live . . . until you’re dead.”