Utterly destroy my arsehole.
this morning, mum's having a bit of trouble sitting down.
she shouldn't have let Dennis Taylor use a real snooker cue to pot the proverbial brown.
Mum's ragged quim,
Could really do with a little trim.
to be blunt:
please destroy my mancunt.
Mum's increasingly firm belief in 'the God of the gaps';
Fueled by seeing the face of Jesus in bloke-cum pre-crap(s).
As usual, dad's occupying a watching brief,
Bogs-sidelined, with his hands down his briefs.
Come sunshine or rain,
Pleasure or pain,
I'll always hold disdain for your dad's main vein.
Dad finds the local primary "sexually electric";
Good thing his willy's chronically "non-erectic".
In hindsight, mum regrets not drawing up some prenuptials,
It was only on her wedding night she saw the size of dad's genitals.
For mum, nothing could be finer,
Than three blokes apiece in arse, gob and vagina.
No blokes has ever done time in the cooler,
For crimes committed against mum's 'stooler.'
