A Big, Gay Party—On Epstein Island

Touch her shoulder,
And draw her near.
A deep, deep breath;
The scent of her hair,
Will linger in your senses.
An enduring memory.

Off to Staples,
To buy some printer paper.
What do you mean,
It’s shut down?
I have photos of,
(Sexy kids),
My dead wife to print out!
UGH!!!!!!
Dickhead!

And now,
Ladies and gentlemen,
A rhyme:
Big, hairy bum,
And a bucketful of cum.

It’s the final wipedown.
Why has nobody,
In the history of cinema,
Made a horror movie,
Called The Scarecase?
A movie,
About a scary staircase?
There’s one for you,
To chew over.

Pißflaps.

Yo-Ho-Ho—And a Snatch Full o’ Cum

All the best,
For the rest,
Of course I,
Will do you.
Predictive text there 😃👍🏻

Ow ow;
Ow-ow, ow ow;
Ow-ow, ow ow;
Ow-ow—
Techno, techno, techno, techno,
Prisoners!

Big fuckin’ tits, boyo!

Panda shit,
Forced Muhammad’s hand,
Down the knickers,
Of the minor.
Shocker!

Wakey, wakey,
Eggs & Baker.
Bucks Fizz.
Making Your Mind Up.
Eurovision Song Contest.
Urethra.

Brick the toilet wall.
I’m sorry,
I’m a twat,
Ten times.

There’s no limit!

The Woman Who Sucked—Dick For A Fag

It was worth it,
For that sweet,
Nicotine hit.

Be honest:
How many of you,
Thought I meant,
Homosexual,
When I said fag?

Lol.

A mouthful of jizz.
For one cigarette.
Fucking slag!

Never one,
To be upstaged,
Little Tommy Two-Shits,
Sucked him off,
Twice,
For one fag.
Winning!

The lesson here,
Is,
That,
Men will always,
Beat women.
Even at sucking cock!

Fuck me,
I hope this triggers,
A sensitive little bitch,
Or two.

Lol.

Ripping The—Head Off It

George of the Jungle,
Visited Cairo,
And got his balls,
Caught on a fence spike.

Tooting & Mitcham.
Erith & Belvedere.
Hampton & Richmond.
Havant & Waterlooville.
Lambert & Butler.
Richard & Judy.
Tits & Arse.
Piss off!

A dog,
Licks peanut butter,
Off my dickhead.
I spaff,
In its mouth.
10/10.
Would recommend.

The Queen is dead;
Long live the spastic.

In the arse,
Out of the nose.
A shit smear deposited,
On your left nostril.
Lick it off.
Mmmmmmmmmm…
Ecoli!

Covid.
Did you get jabbed?
Well,
Aren’t you a retard?

Bollock hair.

Dead Babies—A Love Story

Bilschuffëndyke!

A horse’s bollock;
Trembling titty.
Get in the sea!

Gangrene,
Of the left cunt lip.

Knob custard,
And man fat.
Brick the toilet wall,
With the farts,
Of an imam.
Piss inside her muff,
And suck,
Her dad’s helmet.
You dirty nonce!

Fap to this:
A kitten,
With its throat slit.
Who’s the weirdo now?

All I did,
Was eat a lime wedge.
Is that really,
Truly,
Honestly,
A sackable offence?

Sack.

Past Participle—Welcome to Billinge

I took your method,
And made it better.
The fuck you gonna,
Do about it,
Dave Samuals?

Imitation,
Is the finest form,
Of flattery,
Until the student,
Becomes the master.
I transcended mastery,
And became omnipotent!

Anyway,
Onto more,
Serious matters;
Dog farts.
They taste great.

Crimea should surely,
Be the crime capital,
Of the world,
But Liverpool exists.
You’ll never walk alone,
On a dark street,
And your wallet,
Be safe from a scrote.

Scousers 🤮

S****horpe—Back, Sack, and Crackpipe

Can I borrow,
Your sock?

There once was,
A vicar called Reg,
Who ate an,
Awful lot of veg.
His tits were droopy,
His mum was loopy,
And he liked,
To finger her arsehole,
On occasion.

I’m extremely attractive.
But I smell,
Of leeks,
And sheep shit.
Because I’m Welsh.

Snort a line,
Off my shaft.
Then bum,
My bum.

A shout-out,
To my homies,
The non-binary guys:
You’re weird cunts,
And you need,
To fuck off!
Cretins!

I’m Edwin Saxton—I Do What I Like

It might be hard,
For you to accept,
But I,
Am like,
The motherfuckin’,
Dwayne Johnson,
Of poeming.
I turn up,
Do stuff,
Then do other shit,
For ages.

Deal with it!

Bitch!

Rock the bells!
Rock the bellends!
Rock the balls!
Run DMC,
Ain’t got shit on me!
I rhymed and everything,
Just then.

Cow!

Tommy Two-Shits;
The man,
The myth,
The legend!

Skank!

Can you smeeeeeeeeelllllll,
What the Ed-Sax,
Is cookin’?

Tone Death—Tight Pants

James McClean is a cunt!

Breathe in,
My fart.
Call me,
Sexy.

Can my friend,
Borrow your sock,
Sock, sock, sock,
Sock, sock, sock,
Sock?

Will you go,
With my mate?

A piece of shit.
Your mum’s,
Eating her,
Sister’s cunt,
And a Twix.

Hahaha.
Ha!
Ha-ha-haaaaaa!
Tee-hee-hee!
Gary Glitter.

Condoms are great,
For what they are,
But I’d rather,
Shoot my load,
In you…

…r sock.

The X Walten Files—The Nelson Mandela Catalogue

Fresh out the gate,
A tired, old hag.
Something, something eight,
A dirty, fat slag.

Washing machines,
Last longer with,
Peans.
Not quite peas;
Not quite beans.
But something special,
In-betweens.

It is,
Fucking massive!

Squeezy,
Cheesy,
Peas.

Peans.
Ooooooooooooh!
Ooh–ooh–dr–dripping!

Now,
If you would indulge,
Me,
I,
Would like to direct,
Your attention,
Towards,
An alternative.

Tits.

Show us your wife’s,
Sock.
Peans.
Tits.

Creepy music,
And paranormal shit.
Yuri Gagarin’s,
Tits.