Tag: Ed-Sax

Willie Thorne–West German Suplex

I remember,
When I died.
24th September,
1977.
I overdosed,
On Cornflakes.

Tee-hee-hee.
I can see,
Reight up your skirt.
Big, hairy fanny!

Bagheri Phani.

Gelsenkirchen.
I think that’s,
How it’s spelt.
Magnanimous.

Magnus Magnusson.
Brien O’Brien.
Wolfgang Wolf.

Hammond.J.Hammond Enterprises.
J.C.Balls & Son.
We were,
Then we weren’t.

Shut the fuck up!

Twat!–I Lost My Streak

She was,
A Nigerian girl.
He was,
A Welsh prick!
She told him,
To fuck off,
Because he was,
An absolute dick!

Here comes Barry,
On a donkey.
A slight return,
To days of yore.

Lemon sponge.
Pissflaps,
Reign in this,
Dank, dark town.
Sweaty bollocks.

What if,
I said,
Beetlejuice,
Beetlejuice,
Beetlejuice,
Then,
Candyman,
Candyman,
Candyman,
Into a mirror,
Immediately after?

Fat people,
Should be shot.

Wank Sock–All The Best Ones Are Married

A horse!
A horse!
My kingdom for,
A horse!

Smell the cheese.

Arse crack hair,
A stinky slit,
A cheesy knob,
And a pair o’ tits.

Ripping the head off it,
Again!
Where da hot chicks at?
Grimsby!

Sperm in your rectum;
Gay!
Harry the Bastard,
Will give you,
A fiver for it.

Faaaaaaaaart…

Git ‘cho groove on,
Bitches!
Touch my balls.
Now get off them.
You’re ‘angin’!

Grimsby?

One-upmanship–The Ballad of Tommy Two-Shits

Little Tommy Two-Shits;
He’s better than you!
If you’ve been for one shit,
He’s been for two.

Spam sandwiches,
A cup of bovril,
And a wank.

It’s Thumpy Ballbag Time!
Jim McDonald,
Flashed his tits,
At passing OAPs.
Oh, how they laughed!

It’s Fisty Bellend Time
Vaginal bleeding.
Anal seepage.
I’m not very good at,
(Sex),
Most things.

Chocolate starfish.
Harpies!
Everywhere you go,
There’s a chip shop.

Little Tommy Two-Shits;
He’s better than you!
If you’ve been for one shit,
He’s been for two.

I Wasn’t Going To Post This–But Fuck It…

Fuck it!
All of it!
It’s all bollocks!
Fuck you too!
Stop pretending,
You care,
Whether I live,
Or whether I die.
You don’t!

Tired of feeling invisible,
Worthless,
A non-entity.
I didn’t ask for this;
Life.
It was given to me,
Sans choice,
And I’m told,
I should appreciate it.
Appreciate my cock!
Clueless cunts!

It’s not fair,
That I have to,
Keep on existing,
Because I’m told,
I should.

I’m already dead,
It just hasn’t,
Been confirmed…
Yet.

Yet…

Lonely Desk–Joan Can’t Find Her Timepiece

Hi,
Barry Scott here,
Asking if you have trouble,
With limescale,
Rust,
Ground-in dirt?
They’re a challenge,
For some,
household cleaners,
But not,
For Cillit Bang!

Rusty Shackleford.
A pair of knickers,
Fought for liberation,
In the south of France.
Sacrebleu!

Yes sir;
No sir;
Three bags full sir.
Two girls,
One cup.

I hate myself,
And I want to die.

Shop talk,
Got boring,
For Wilf.
So, he shot his manager,
In the kneecap.

Bang!
And the dirt is gone!

Mental Swirls–Ray From Ghostbusters

Falling from heaven,
Like a wingless angel,
That cannot take flight,
With a massive cock!
The helicopter trick,
Isn’t working.
Oh, fuck!

On a more,
Sensible note,
Hitler wasn’t all bad.

I might have a wa—
Finished!

Empty balls.
Now what?
A poem.
I am a,
Poeming genius,
After all.

Stand and deliver.
Stan and Ann do liver.
Saddam Hussain.
Sad and insane.
Pretty much, yeah!