Proof that dad's not entirely lost his bum-looks,
He's just been fucked by ex-1980's Spurs striker-now-BBC-football-pundit-psuedo-serious-inferiority-complex-ridden-and-all-round-weirdo-twat, Garth Crooks!
Mum's films rarely have a complex plot,
They're predominantly about her getting pummelled in the bot.
Mum's ticked the section in the census,
Denoting she does anal for fifty pences.
Dad's opted for knicker style: crotchless,
Which, when you think about it for him, is completely pointless.
Darts-blokes are really letting fly,
At mum's golden bullseye.
Dad's queued up a kid-vid playlist,
For a good long fiddle with his "prick that, technically, doesn't physically exist".
Bogs, tonight: starring mum's "chûte du poop":
Seventeen blokes will attempt the bum loop-de-loop.
Ambulance crews thrown something of a curve-ball,
As they arrived on the scene of Dad's latest anal-maul,
Surgically, it certainly now seems like a marginal-call,
Whether or not they manage to excavate that ingested medicine-ball.
Mum's bogs-powers might finally be fading,
But she's still capable of large scale sex-acts that are truly degrading.
Mum's one-track way of thinking can be rather onerous;
She just wants cock up her anus.
