In the bogs, mum has no quarrels,
On giving up her basic morals.
Dad's "stable door" wide open; passersby "revolted";
After his miniature "horse" has clearly "bolted".
Your dad's in the John Lewis queue marked 'returns',
His exercise bike has 'inadvertantly become smothered in sperms'.
Mum's completely smashed on cheap wine and diazepam,
Allowing a total free-for-all up her bearded clam.
Dad's into dogging,
Mum's into bogging.
what a relief!
there's a great big stinking cock under that fig leaf!
Dad's having a wank (but firing blanks),
Over his poster collection of Matt LeBlanc.
Dad's ramming his stinking man-meat
In a chatGPT simulated shit-pleat.
It’s Christmas time, Santa’s coming
Mum’s festive wish? Yep: ‘Smash my bum in’
The law of the bogs is enshrined:
"To Fuck Mum From Behind."
