Never Ending Pasta

From a thread...this was pure fun-the first time that I had ever had pure, unadulterated fun writing poetry! What do you think?
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Never Ending Pasta

Boobilah, oh Boobilah, taking her seat,
Devouring all that's been left to eat;
But Boobilah, Boobilah, at very least
Desiring more than just merely a feast!

Boobilah, oh Boobilah! On the park bench,
Drives Studly crazy with her fluent French!
Boobilah, oh Boobilah, who leaves him for dead,
As she smacks him upside his nappy head!

Boobilah, oh Boobilah; will you sell your soul,
To indulge at the never-ending pasta bowl?
Boobilah, oh Boobilah; there's still more to eat,
Just enough room for a decadent sweet!

Boobilah, oh Boobilah, do not be deterred,
By my maloderous flatulance however absurd!
Boobilah, oh Boobilah, please give me more rope,
To improve my aroma with perfume and soap!

Boobilah, my Boobilah! My fickle coquette,
My flatulence is raging, and hasn't stopped yet;
I've tried to control it, but find that I can't,
Since my Boobilah forsook me for that renegade Gogant!

Boobilah, oh Boobilah, the bubbly has popped,
The foam overflows and my flatulence is stopped;
Renegade oh Renegade, you've made me a wreck,
The least you can do is to pick up the check!

Boobilah, oh Boobilah, it's par for the course,
I was never aware that you eat like a horse!
Boobilah, oh Boobilah, I've the inestimable thrill,
To watch your dear Renegade pay the whole bill!

Boobilah, oh Boobilah, you haven't stopped yet?
The tab's now the size of the National Debt!
Renegade, oh Renegade, with penniless hands,
To pay for your Boobilah, you'll wash pots and pans!

Oh Renegade, for the bill that you could not afford,
You'll do dishes forever as Studly's reward;
As payback for the coveted heart that you stole,
With the enticement of never-ending pasta bowl!

Boobilah, oh Boobilah, I scarcely can tell,
Whether my dubious hygiene makes my poems to smell!
I'll borrow more Yiddish as befitting a schmuck,
At least now I know that my poems don't SUCK!

Boobilah, oh Boobilah, so cute and so thin,
Wearing the clothes that she's always fit in;
Boobilah, oh Boobilah, we can't eat like that,
Out eating an army but still Studly gets fat!

Pape, my dear Pape, it's a wonderful start,
Reconciling with Boobilah will gladden my heart;
I'll emit noxious odors as we toast our good luck,
Then we'll fill paper cups with some luke-warm "Cold Duck"!

Throw out your corkscrew, get rid of your fork,
You're in deepest shit when the wine has no cork!
"Ripple" and "Swizzle" and wines of that ilk,
You're better off drinking 12 year old milk!

Be ever vigilant, oh my dear Pape,
For all so-called "wine" that has never seen grape;
Such lethal concoctions that would "de-dent" a shark,
Keep drinking that swill and you'll glow-in-the-dark!

Boobilah, oh Boobilah; Your secret is out,
How you procure your pasta with considerable clout!
A mover and shaker we cannot deny,
But why then, oh Boobilah, is the bill so damn high?

Well then, oh Boobilah, it's hard to conceive,
For some scamp has been taking the change that I leave;
Unjustly collecting for our free pasta bowls,
I suspect "Reaganomics" since my pockets have holes!

Boobilah, oh Boobilah, now please hear me out,
You make Bernie Madoff seem like a boy scout!
And even though penniless with compromised heart,
I'm consoled with bowel movement and maloderous fart.

I'm Studly the Portly-a corpulent mass,
I lay waste whole cities with foul-smelling gas!
Courtship with Boobilah's an impossible task,
Since she always requires the use of a mask!

Boobilah, oh Boobilah sips the finest of wines,
But if she only could read between proverbial lines;
I prefer a good "flushing" since my bowels are so tight,
With feared "apparatus" inserted just right!!!

Oh enema, oh enema, so undeniably true,
That a day without sunshine is a night without you!
To defeat constipation is my preferable end;
As the great "apparatus" is my only friend!

Boobilah, do you know what those Italian words mean?
Because I notice your dainties have a slight tinge of green;
It must be the landfill on this very street,
Do you know what's Italian for "radio-active sweet"?

The dessert looks quite tempting, such a decadent treat,
But it's "sinful" because it's begun to sprout feet.
It moves resolutely on out through the door,
Please don't pursue it, or we'll see you no more.

Boobilah, oh Boobilah, bittersweet to the taste,
Is the vast sumptuous banquet of nuclear waste;
Boobilah, oh Boobilah, how fickle you are,
With "cappocuoco supremo, vuole fare a pombare"!
(The head chef wants to have sex).

Boobilah, oh Boobilah, were you made aware,
Of Health Department warnings of the dubious fare?
They've tried their very best to remain so discreet,
Despite questionable origin of mystery meat.

You may go to the queue if you've garnered the nerve,
As Cat Parmesan is the first item they'll serve;
Vermin Vermicelli with so much on display,
With Pit Bull Lasagna in this unique buffet!

Mosquito Minestrone ranks high on the list,
Rissotto of Rat is not to be missed!
An interesting arrangement that's all for the best,
For il cappocuoco will give Boobilah the rest!

Boobilah oh Boobilah, we're all at a loss,
To explain what it is that is under the sauce;
A strange ossabucco with eyes full of hate,
Spouts "Rush Limbaugh" doctine from deep in my plate.

Among the entrees one might happen to choose,
With fusilli corkscrews in Boticelli shoes;
Pasta Primavera and all things unholy,
Staf, samonella, mad cow and ecoli!

A dining experience that's second to none,
As the patrons at once are all starting to run;
From the "malocchio" meatball that's growing in size,
Wearing shoddy toupee with his trio of eyes.

He seeks out his victims according to brand,
Of all briefs and jockeys that might be at hand;
With "atomic wedgie" as the worst of your fears,
He then forces your underwear up over your ears!

A dessert of the like that I've never seen
With muscular arms turning flourescent green;
My dessert then attacks me, knocking me to the floor,
Administers a choke-hold until I can't take anymore.

Boobilah, oh Boobilah, is it really my fault,
That my dessert's now been charged with atrocious assault?
Being mugged by mutant pastry, to me makes no sense,
Which does not even exist in the Table of Elements.

Boobilah oh Boobilah, so pure and serene,
Rolls up her sleeves for her next vaccine;
Those innoculations are making the rounds,
At least you won't pack on any more pounds.