Things that make you go 'Oh dear...'.
Modern bogs commentators concede that it's "breathtaking," The sheer volume of cock mum continues to keep taking.
Mum's been doing a few pop-up bogs nights, which is all terribly middle class, But she cares little about social status, as long as she's reamed in the arse.
Father wasn't ashamed- but he should have been
Mum's a master of the dark arts, Of diarrhoea infused fanny-farts.
When in doubt; Grout.
Dad repeatedly fails to understand, He's not to touch kids with his hands.
Dad's bought a job lot of used toilets; But the police have come round to spoil it(s).
Even when she's taking a complete "pluggin," Mum's got the dexterity for a couple of "rough tuggin."
Mum's down at the conference centre, Letting any bloke with a lanyard enter 'er.
In the bogs-queue, there's genuine hysteria, At the prospect of mum's infamous posterior.
Poetry Player
Loading tracks...
Poetry Player
Filename will appear here
Total ratings
Loading...
Total views
Loading...
Never
Login to rate and submit clockfuckers