The next time I'm stateside,
I'll look you up so we can have
a wild affair to write bad
haiku about.

His schlong smelled like ham.
Ham that was left out for weeks.
I ran, vomiting.

He chased and caught me.
Now I smell like rotten pork.
There's pus in my hair.

You can say what you want, that's not as disgusting as pineapple on pizza. RIGHT?!