Ruined flotsam, then jetsam.
Mum insists on a Corgi-registered gas fitter
When it comes to servicing her boiler (and shitter)
Bum docs shocked following mum's colonoscopy,
After finding a bogs-bloke who'd been living up there since 1983.
It’s a mystery as to why Dad didn’t expect the council to reject a
proposal he made: appoint him as ‘Primary Schools Willy Inspector’
Mum's dismayed,
If her "salad bowl" isn't perma-splayed.
Consult the bar chart:
It's statistically most likely to be a cum-froth fart.
Mum's in the phonebox, shouting 'Doctor!' down the blower;
Bemoaning the state of her farm-hand induced vaginal 'Krakatoa'.
If swole-cocked blokes would be so kind,
Mum could use a good stoving-in, in the behind.
Mum's bogs-banter mantra:
"with friends like these, who needs enemas?"
Giving you the silver because the real power move would have been to execute the shit while on the call
Post-shift, mum's often shell-shocked,
If she's been particularly "well-cocked."
