Shall I compare thee to a stream of splooge

Shall I compare thee to a stream of splooge?
Thou art more lovely and saucy:
Hot juices do cake the edges of the mouth,
And the hair, sticky and too bossy:
Sometime too hot the eye of this bitch sparkles,
And often is one's eye turned red;
And every shootee sometime dines
At restaurants where the tip is left saliva'd.
Thy eternal flavor shall not fade never
Nor lose possession of that panspermia thou ownest
Nor shall the trash claim the love we've made
When your whore stomachs are full until they groanest.
So long as men love beef, and spitroasting,
So long lives this whore,
So long live this termination of act
Upon thy fairest of faces