Felching—The Rhyme of Privet Hedges

Bad guys,
Who like to,
Luton Plunder.

Mildred Hubble,
Had cunt stubble.

It’s not milk;
It’s a sock,
You spastic!
While we’re on the subject,
Can I borrow,
Your sock?

Rip Torn.
Privet Hedges.
Four-legged spider,
Called Martin.
Exchange and Martin.

Come on!
Get it out!
What a way to go!
Speccy four-eyes!

No, she’s too stubborn.
Not personally.
Yes, or I’ll miss my bus.
Close—he’s called Ian.

Are any of you dicks,
Even reading,
The shit I write?

One thought on “Felching—The Rhyme of Privet Hedges

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