Just Champion—Varietus Maximus

I beseech thee:
Open doors,
And open legs.
Reeks o’ dead sheep,
Up in this bitch.

A top hat,
For Top Cat;
A cow pat,
At the laundromat.

Spunk inside her cunt,
Even though,
She said not to.
Who cares,
What she says?
Women aren’t important.

NNNNNNORRIS!

West of Bald Knob,
And Gobblers Knob,
Dick Scratcher,
Laid a wreath,
In honour of,
Hitler.

Kevin Hitler.
Good old Kev Hitler.
And Dennis Mussolini.

Odd Socks—Off You Fuck Mate

Kiddie fiddler.

Onto the next.
An episode of The Waltons.
Vaginal discharge,
Felt normal,
To Francis.

Whatever became of you,
Dear little trumpling?
The breeze carried you away,
And never did you return.

Steve has gout,
Gout, gout, gout.

HAHAHAHA!

Bisto.
She rammed her dick,
Straight up his tooter.
Mustard gas,
And dirty faggots.
Paki.

Okapi.
Through the golden arches,
Upon your chariot made of carrot.
Bald bastard.
Speccy four-eyes.
Over yonder,
In a place called Slippyminge.

Don’t Trip–Grand Gestures

Duckworth.
Of all the daft things,
Teresa could’ve said,
She opted for ‘griggly’.

Lift, loft, luft.
Pift, poft, puft.
Hahaha-haha.
Ha-ha-haha-ha.
Hahahahahaaaaaa-ha.

Put the bucket,
In your fanny.
You like it there.
Trollop.

Whooooooosh!

Nazis are cool.
I like them.
Al Qaeda,
Are alright too.
Not IRA though.
I don’t like whiskey.

A fistful of foreskin.
Pubic combover.
When it’s all over,
You wish for fish.
Droopy knockers;
Like spaniels ears.

End on a Whimper–Salt Your Ham Shank

Suddenly…

Grab a granny;
Grab her quick.
Take out her dentures;
Put in your dick.

Judge me all you like;
You’re the one,
Who’s had it,
Up the bum.
Skank!

Grab a granny;
Grab her soon.
Pull down her bloomers;
Eat her wrinkled pun.

All high and mighty,
But which of us,
Has choked on cock,
Before today?
Trollop!

Grab a granny;
Grab her now!
Milk her droopy tits,
Like udders on a cow.

And while we’re at it,
I bet your twat,
Reeks of mackerel.
You’re disgusting!
Fuck off!

The Sweet Taste of Colostrum–Gaudily Stained Y-Fronts

A trip to Pompeii.

By tooth or claw;
A sombre mantra,
So often seen,
In days of doubt.

If you cared a jot,
You wouldn’t go.

Uncle John.
“Go forth”, say I!
Choke on a knob;
Corn on the cob.
Cup your ball;
You only have one.

Whatever should I do?
They stole my tin.

Now she asks why.
What do I tell her, bro?
Fu Manchu.
Yeah, thanks. Wanker!

Mock the spastic;
You know you will.
Spread the piccalilli,
On your chalot.

Nipple Twist–Dump Your Load

Colin!
Bastard!
Get your fingers,
Out of your tooter.

Can I borrow,
Your sock, sock, sock,
Sock, sock, sock, sock,
SOCK!!!

Undoubtedly,
This was Eggbert’s,
Finest hour.
That was until,
Little Tommy Two-Shits,
Rocked up.

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

Drink from your poisoned chalice,
Foolish boy!
Ignore the burn,
As it slips into your stomach.
The pain,
That shall follow,
Will be worth,
The moment of bliss!

From one nonce,
To another:
I like little boys’ bottoms.
Justin Fletcher,
And Blippi.

Arsenic.
Haha—domestic abuse.

Slain Lepers–On Your Head Be It

Get ready fer this,
Yer sucker!

Skint twits,
Giant nits,
Droopy clits,
And saggy tits.
Hairy balls,
Graffiti’d walls,
Booty calls,
And Eyeball Pauls.

Drop the needle,
On the wax.
Spin that shit;
Kick back, relax.
Back in time,
Is where we go;
To times of yore;
To times we know.

In walks a slut;
Her legs are shut.
No offence, but,
Where do I nut?
Open ’em wide;
Welcome me inside.
She can’t hide,
Although she tried.

All I want,
Is a damned good shag.
No nice girls thanks;
I just want slags.
Skanky harpies,
Are where my hat lays.
You can save the sweet ones,
For the fucking gays!

Uterus–Help the Drunk

Wisdom of elders,
And we’ll ignore,
Their dementia.
Stupid, owd bedshitters!

Show me your cunt.
If you aren’t a slut,
You can piss off!
Slappers and slags,
Need only apply.
Bounce on my,
Ginger bollocks.

Leave it out, Baz.
It ain’t worth it.
Plus, he has leprosy.
Finish your pint,
Then we’ll move on.

AWOL.
A Way of Life.
Up the Khaiber.
Up yer Ronson.
The monkey’s chuff.
Colinflower.

Just do it.
Stop making excuses,
And slice them.
The police won’t,
Find out.
If they do,
We’ll shank the twats!

Over to you,
In the studio…

Titillation in Beirut–Oxbow Lake Formations

If I eat,
A bacon sandwich,
Is it antisemitic?

To the man,
Who calls himself,
Manager:
I hope you get,
Poked in the eye,
With a katana!

Diocese!
A proletarian view,
Wasted on the ideal,
Of first come,
First served.
Elastomer agrees.

Wheat and piss.
Hitler was great.
A lovely man.
Better than Jesus anyway.

Touch the arse.
Does it smell?
You wanker!
All I ever dreamed of,
Was holding a,
Dead puppy,
But it was alive.

Thesaurus Rex.
Bees are abuzz,
With fluffy wonder;
Drones drone,
All alone.
Onto the next,
I suppose.

Blues Riff In F Major–A Twat In A Hat

Onto something,
A little more,
Serious.
Did we ever discover,
If Dankle Wheezemop,
Was the infamous,
Roof tile thief?

Take an antacid,
And stop whining!

Goodness gracious!
What a terrible mess!
Ostrich feathers,
And gloom juice,
Combine to make,
A substance hitherto,
Unknown to science.

A pair of glassus.
“Can I,”
She started,
“Borrow,”
She continued,
“Your sock?”
She asked.

Infertility,
Is no laughing matter.
Tee-hee-hee.

Codswallop!
Finger us arse.
Get a dildo,
And poke yourself,
In the eye.