Your mum couldn't control her continual friggings,
last week when we all met Christopher Biggins.
Your mum's never gents-shy, in fact tonight she's in there again,
At least in years to come she'll be able to say 'I was fucked by many, many men.'
Friday night, and bum-docs are "heart in mouth",
Over whether anything's left of mum at all "down south".
Just when the other parents thought things couldn't get any worse,
There's dad at the school gates, dressed as a "sexy nurse".
It's only the second week of February,
And mum's 2025 body count is already "very, very many".
Mum: reigning undefeated against 'all comers' in the 'sexual Thunderdome'
Dad: lost willy size competition against a garden gnome
Come evening, mum likes blokes to tongue-punch,
Whatever she's had earlier for lunch.
every second your mum is conscious
blokes queue up to cause her anal wrongness.
All in all, I think it's fair to say mum's no longer a spring chicken,
But gents-blokes still agree with the fact it's a cheap place to put your dick in.
Dad's the editor of, and main contributor to, new magazine;
'My Papercut Fanny's Pristine!'
