Dad's subjecting himself to some really unkind self-talk,
Concerning the appalling condition of his fuck-stalk.
Dad's claims of innocence began to unravel,
When he started dressing exactly like Jimmy Savile.
Mum just tries to stay 'zen,'
When she's taking on lots and lots of men.
Dad's denial of involvement in canal towpath flashing incidents,
Lack any credence.
All hopes collapse,
Of mum failing to prolapse.
Dad had settled down for some 'private time' watching Friends, The Reunion,
But, as usual, he's gone and come too soon again.
whiffy poo:
stiffy for you.
swiftly, screw.
Mum feels like it's simply "bad optics,"
If she takes on any pricks that are not thicks.
Occasionally, mum reasserts the bogs ground rules:
There needs to be pricks that are thicks, piss, and, of course, stools.
Of servicing big blokes, mum is definitely guilty.
Dad's crimes? Willy small, weird and "wilty".
