Kierkegaard’s Tears–Triple Dogmaels

Power to the,
Piss lips!
Laurel Hubbard’s,
Piss lips.

Shart!
Ne’er you mind.

Renault Twingo.
All that furore,
In suburban Charlotte NC,
Took its toll,
On Judith Chalmers.
Never filmed an episode,
Of Wish You Were Here,
There again.

Haha-ha-ha,
Ha-hahaha-haha,
Haha-haha-haha,
Ah-hahahaha-ha.
Ha.

A crackin’ pair o’ knockers.
Vials of blood.
How d’ya do, cockers?
What a load o’ crud!
Beta blockers.
A nice baked spud.
Tick-tick-tockers.
The bomb was a dud.

Might be tough,
For you to comprehend,
But trannies should compete,
In their own category.
Or have their own Olympics,
That nobody would watch.

Fuck off Laurel!
Cheating cunt!

Charitable Giving–Pete and His Magic Wand Society

Airdrieonians.
That’s the team for me.
Bitch!

“Where all da hoes at?”
Festus did holler.
Surrounded by pork swords.
This simply,
Would not do!
He came for that sweet,
Punched lasagne.

Cut off the foreskin.
It isn’t child abuse,
Or sexual abuse,
Coz religion n that,
Innit bruh?

Farts.

Trickle down economics.
Pissed mesen.
Layin’ some pipe.

What’cha gon’ do?
Bitch!

Geoff Lives Matter–Djibouti Dreamin’

Desk fans in Market Harborough,
All sold to the,
Tall Nazi called Fritz.

The big question,
Of course,
Is as follows:
Who is the sexiest paedophile?

Lester Burton can swivel.
Gonorrhoea friction burns.
Wank me off,
With your arse.

Oi!
You there!
Empty your balls,
Up my bum,
Or I’ll tell everyone,
You’re a fucking faggot!

Tits.
Knockers.
And funbags.
Clam jouster.

Take Your Pants–On

Diphtheria,
Isn’t a laughing matter.
Raping minors?
Terrible, but…
Yes, why not?

Candyfloss funbags,
Hover over me.
Unilateral skylines,
Twist my soul.
Never did she,
Ever,
Yomp to Goose Green.

Farthings from heaven;
Evil speaks to me.
Retinas burn!
Retinas sear!
Evil has me,
Tonight and forever.

Joan Armour—Trading

Armatrading;
Armatrading;
Arma-Arma-Arma-Armatrading.

Philestyrene tomcat fury,
Of Norwich and Biggleswade.
Wank us off,
Wi’ yer aaaaarse!

Bri-nylon pots and pans,
To boil your noodles.
A vat of piss,
To save the day.
Horses for courses.

Can I borrow,
Your porn mag?
Two-headed semen,
From a two-headed seaman,
Forced the royal knights,
Into purdah.

Jump!
Don’t ever stop.
Wit’ a little bit o’ this;
Little bit o’ that.
Jump!
Don’t ever stop.
Wit’ a little bit o’ this;
Little bit o’ that.
Little bit o’ fun;
Little bit o’ joke;
Little bit o’ drink;
Little bit o’ smoke.
Jump!
On da ones and twos…
Let’s go; let’s go!

Plagiarism.
Fuck you!

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?

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.