Accuse my prolapse of being anti-semetic.
After a heavy shift in the bogs, blokes are cheered by mum's welcome cry of 'all back to mine,'
Dad's having lobsters shoved up his arse by celeb-chef and restauranteur, Rick Stein.
Mum's writing to transport minister Grant Shapps,
To offer herself up as a receptacle for queueing lorry drivers' craps.
Mum? Bogs, "getting her whore on"
Dad? Complete fucking sexual moron.
Mum looks almost like she's "covered in limescale",
But in fact, it's "the ejaculate of many male".
Mum's Arsehole Dilation Tracking Control Centre broke into joyful scenes of pandemonium,
As dilation monitors finally inched passed "Beyond Maximum."
Mum doesn't have safe words for "slow down,"
When blokes are really heavily "potting her brown."
the procession of big blokes queueing to stove mum in the gents is relentless.
meanwhile, dad's home alone, solemnly contemplating his own bentness.
Dad's listening to pop-chill-pioneer PM Dawn;
Slack packet twitchless;
Penis = S.O.R.N.
Mum's flown into a terrible sulk,
Because the 53rd bloke in line has only medium genital bulk.
Mum's well known to have distributed wide-ranging suck 'n' fucky,
She's serviced the entire male population of the State of Kentucky.
