Ready, Steady—Dick Kick

Whereupon.

I didn’t see,
Her ginormous breast,
Until the katana,
Had sliced it in twain.
Firm, pert nipple,
Irreparably ruined 😢

To you, I say thus:
“Diskley Whipelhämer,
You daft twat!”

Bald head,
And Jan Nielsen.
Imagine the fury,
Of the folk of Kiribati.
Bellend,
And foreskin.
Chlamydia was a must.

Pooh.

Turd.

Shit.

Hale & Pace;
A comedic spectacular!
Russ Abbott.

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A Cracking Set—Tits

It’s morphin’ time!

Mastodon!
Pterodactyl!
Triceratops!
Sabretooth Tiger!
Tyrannosaurus!
Steve!

Rigormortis.
Down to the pub,
Went Fred Reaker,
To meet Pat Risher.
Paul Een was there,
But Rob Erta couldn’t make it.

Dogshit City,
Threw a wild knees-up,
In honour of,
The goosefish.

Back to the grill again;
The grill again…
Friends!
How many poets,
Must get dead,
Before somebody says,
“Don’t fuck wit’ Ed!”?

Wisdom was special,
Until pissflaps came along.
Blame women.
They’re the problem.
Kill them all!
Slit their throats!
Bleed them out!

Haha.

Virgin Heart—Stooping to Collect Dingleberries

Panda bear; panda bear;
What on earth dost thou doest there?
Panda bear; panda bear;
Tis not thou black eyes at which I stare.
Panda bear; panda bear;
Pray tell why for not thou care.
Panda bear; panda bear;
Tis queer to thy that thou doth rape a pear!

The pear, the pear,
The pear is on fire!
We don’t need no apples;
Let that motherfucker burn,
Burn, burn, motherfucker burn!

Timmy Chattersworth,
Gave it a ruddy good go.
What he hadn’t factored in,
However,
Was the presence,
Of little Tommy Two-Shits.

We all know,
How it goes.
Join in at home.
And a one,
And a two,
And a three, four, twelve…

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

Wander the arid deserts,
Of your warped little mind.
Sure, I said it,
But you’re reading it.
Who’s the real weirdo?

Smoking Beef—Shitting U-Boats

You have a big bum,
A big bum.
You have a big bum,
A big bum.

Hey!

Mix Andy’s urine,
With white flour.
A dash of ethanol,
And a handful of,
Pine nuts.
Put in a preheated oven,
At 200° for four hours.
Tastes bloody lovely!

Poofter.
All he did,
Was visit the Paki shop.
Ten pack o’ Berkeley Red,
And a waffle iron,
Please, Mafood.

Terrible.
Simply effing terrible.
A sausage;
A rasher of bacon;
Muhammad crammed,
Both into his gob.
Naughty imam!

Wank me off,
With your arse.
You will.
Slag!

A Damned Shame—What Became of the Doge?

I don’t take orders,
From you;
But I might,
Let you fist me.

Wazzock!

Jumping jellybean,
Did wander the sands,
Of DeLiviér Desert,
In search of,
An orthinclanaminuselibobulom.
Mystical,
And a bit of a tosspot.

Tee-hee-hee.
Dozy duck!
Tee-hee-hee-hee-heeeeee.

Pants?

Discombobulated.
If you say so.
But you’re a chocolate bar;
Incapable of rational thought.
Much like pansexuals,
And the Scottish.

Shut that fuckin’ door!
Pinky Ponk.
Ninky Nonk.
Pants.
Smelly shart.

Pillock!—Maths Is Sweaty

WATSON!
Rub it,
All over my chesticles.

Funny money,
Filtered down,
From the clown.
My shit is runny;
Down my leg,
With a load of smeg.

Frank Binmore,
Left Nippleswick,
For a new life,
In Kinshasa.
Got murdered within a day,
Coz he iz white, innit?

Bloody Germans!

Touch the arse.
Touch the arse.
Timbuktu dreaming,
And Pants von Skøldingmark.

“Diphtheria!”
Alison muttered,
Accusatorially.
Nobody listened,
Because she has,
Downs Syndrome.

Take a Moment—There Are Only Two Genders

Eggy trumps,
To the sterncastle!
Discoloured piss,
To the foredeck.
Corned beef, corned beef!
West of the most westerly,
Point on the compass.

A pen for Bill.
He’s a twat.
A dry-wipe marker,
For a sword;
A clipboard,
For a shield.

Gonorrhoea.
Chlamydia.
Worth going bareback for.

Rip off your Y-fronts,
And show the world,
You ain’t messing.
Droopy bollocks.

Bollocks.

Feeling horny?
Some kids out back;
Help yourself.
Rohypnol in the larder,
Should you need it.

Deep throat.