Felching—The Rhyme of Privet Hedges

Bad guys,
Who like to,
Luton Plunder.

Mildred Hubble,
Had cunt stubble.
Ha—constable.
Constantinople.

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!

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

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

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The Second Amendment—Underpant Elastic

Couldn’t see the wood,
For the cuntflaps.

Widdle, widdle, wee-wee;
Outer Hebrides.
Smirky McLurky,
Is wanking again.

Had enough broth,
To last us an epoch,
But still you brought more.
Get the hint, Deborah,
You stupid skank.

In your cuntflaps,
Lives a titmouse,
That reeks of fish.

You need to fuck off mate.
You look like a crackhead.
You’ll scare the cat.
Your granny’s cuntflaps.

The Great Unwashed,
Cuntflaps.
A hovercraft,
In Pembrokeshire.

It’s time for the wipedown.
Tune me in;
Chew me out;
Rub me off—cuntflaps.

Not today, Adolf.
And Moses.
Moses Hitler.
Muhammad Hitler.
Allahu Akbar!

Five, Four, Three, Two—John

Wispy beard of inglenook;
Drowned in sorrowful glances.
A bike from Halfords,
Got a puncture.
For fuck’s sake!

Up to your elbow,
In cunt juice.

Get the gist.
Have you got it?
Nice tits.
Finger me,
With your cock.

Just because,
I get bummed a lot,
Off men,
Doesn’t mean I’m,
A fudge packer.

Ha-weeeeeeeee!
Gimp.

Season your chips,
With dried shit flakes.
Shit with sugar on.
A haddock.

An anvil.
A pair of nknkinckers.
Dyslexic cunt!
Pubes.

Player One continue?
Or chicken out,
Like the chicken shit,
We all know you are?
Purrit in th’laaaaarrrrder!

Larder.

Larder.

Kicked Over Trifle—Gordon’s Wingman

I have a slit in my arse.
Brenda came.
Cheese on toast.
West Ham United.
Tits.
Ginger.
Gingervitis.
Fist your mum.
Fist your mum.
Minions with fart guns.
Nipple pinch.
Snot rag.
Nostrils, nostrils, nostrils.
We go again.
Fist your mum.
Tits.
Your mum’s tits.
Bring a bottle and a gram.
Party in the orphanage.
Jose Mourinho.
William’s Wish Wellingtons.
Up to your neck in dick.
Slag.
Your opinion is irrelevant.
I’m handsome as fuck.
Nipple bollock.
Wales and Welsh people.
Chariots of Martin Offiah.
Martin O’Fire.
A knob of butter.
Knob end.
Fist your mum.

A Dildo—Why Do You Ask? (The Good China)

NONCES TO ARMS!!!
We shan’t take their,
Prejudice any longer!
If we wish to touch,
Little boys’ bottoms,
And come inside them,
We deserve that right!

Rinse.
Blue rinse.
Often, we were made,
Of chocolate,
Then licked off by,
A komodo dragon.

Wank sock.
Wank sock.
Wank sock.

Can I borrow,
Your sock, sock, sock,
Sock, sock, sock?
Wank sock.

All the peanuts,
In the world,
Converged,
Congregated,
To one place,
At one time,
With no pants on.

Show us your dick

Not for all the tea,
In your wank sock.
Misty McFisty.

Was,
Wasn’t it?
Don’t tell Maxwell,
About it though.

Now onto,
More serious business:
Wank sock.

If I Didn’t Have You—Who Would I Hate?

Bicycle.
By sickle.
Shut your whore mouth!

Semicolon,
Or semiconductor.
What do you think?

Finicky bugger,
You are.
Get to fuck!

Ramadan was,
A time for celebration,
In Upminster.

Leaves! Leaves! Leaves!
Remains! Remains! Remains!
Stuck in the cud.

Smelly Packy Stanny,
Had had enough of the jibes,
And took a shower.

All of your nightmares,
Will become fantasies,
When you eat that Stilton.

I will commend you,
For your observance;
I’ve, indeed, a hairy arse.

I wish you were here,
Hanging by the neck,
Instead of me.

Not to be a cunt or owt,
But I think all homos,
Are disgusting cretins.

Riddled—Lob Off Your Foreskin

Bishop takes pawn:
A tale of forbidden love.
The clergy,
Is in uproar.

Cleveleys,
Became the new,
Centre of industry,
In our post dystopian world.

Take a hotshot,
In my balloon knot.

Carefully apply,
The bell cheese,
Onto the sourdough.
Nigel Bellcheese.
Cheese,
Of the bell.

Bellend.

Circumcision,
Is pretty much,
Physical abuse,
And paedophilia,
In one weird package.
There!
I said it!

Hands all over my,
Bellend.

Cleveleys.