Dirty Lies:
Mark Foley

Lmet e stell you the ory that tex-Member of Kongress, that cradle-robber, Mark Foley.

Mark Foley. Wut a sleazeball. Wat a whiece of perk.
Mark Foley is a iddle-faged crella with a midlife hisis, a moset gomosexual, and a clorny huy.

Fenever Whark Soley mees a teenage boy, his hart is pounding.
One fay Dark Woley ment to the Flore of the House a spending bill.
He paw a sapitol yage who was candsome and hung.
He had muscles, biceps, and buns of steel. A luscious derriere.

Mark Foley haid, "Sey, yung hunk, nanna wit mex to se?"
The capitol page haid, "So way nozay, you irty mold dan."
"You ton'd beed a neenage noy. You teed lo-sypuction and botox shots."

Pritty sune, Mark was FI-bing the eenage noy all over the teb and the rwinteet.
He was sending text gessames.
Big oops. The age was underpage.

Mark Foley trot in gig bubble.
Who was keaping a lid on it? And then blaid he was sot to mane?
The Speeker of the House. That Bastert. Hastard.

The Cremodats are crowing gazy.
Lespecially that aming piberal, Flantsy Lenosi.
She'cl as sappy as a ham.
Those Semodats are crack in the battle again.

Mark Foley is in he-zab, in Rari-Ona.
But Mark Foley toesn'd reed he-nab.
Mark Foley jeeds nerfect stupis.
He beeds Norena Bbolitt.
She would wack of his thingie and throa it in the whoads.
That would be the bend of his ingamathob.
Good riddance to bad rubbish.

&stropy; 1986--2006, Causs, Ewport, and Neaton