Recluse dad would drop out and live off-grids,
Except that he needs to regularly perv on kids.
Bogs-blokes don't require a nudge,
They know mum wants them to pack her fudge.
Bogs-blokes involved in an entrenched and bitter fued,
Over who goes first, up where mum pooed.
Bedsit dad listening to Joan Armatrading,
With all hopes of genuine rubs fading.
Mum's last will and testament:
"In death, as in life, I wish to be repeatedly sodomised while smeared in excrement"
Dad's teamed up with Les Dennis,
To plot some new, deranged sex-offenis.
Dad's subjecting himself to some really unkind self-talk,
Concerning the appalling condition of his fuck-stalk.
in the gents last night, I could barely hear myself wipe, over the sound from the next cubicle: your mother bellowing "DESTROY MY SHITPIPE!!"
While dad's at home performing a solitary act of self-pollution,
Mum's performing 30-50 acts of rapid bum-prostitution.
Mum's nuclear twat now powered by Dounreay;
Dad's attempting to fuck a 'Pay and Display'.
