Post by newimprovedcrookey on May 18, 2009 19:41:55 GMT
Beryl Anne Boyd is a chap to avoid
"Another Murrrdaaarhh" is his slogan
But things get worse than a banshee's curse
When he teams up with "Jugs Ears" Logan.
They sit and grouse in Western House
Claiming their gobs never see a snorker
As fat bellies rumble, it's one long grumble
About smarties once nicked by Walker.
So do or dare this anorexic pair
Set forth for the land of song
With maws agape, elbowing pillage and rape,
Their gnashers did many a wrong.
They'd not seen their like along Offa's Dyke
For no locust could hold a candle
To the work that was done on their non-stop run
As their chompers grew too hot to handle
They crossed the Severn in seventh heaven
Enthused with gut filling ardour
And many a bride, her husband's pride,
Was left with an empty larder.
They waddled their way to Tiger Bay
Elasticated waistbands under duress.
Where blood curdling cries, of "bring on the pies",
Caused Dame Shirley no little distress.
Any Ruby Murray was dispatched in a hurry.
Cawl was scoffed by the family-sized dollop.
But they met their match when they tried to snatch
A chip buttie from a titian tressed trollop.
For she always kept handy in her series three landie
Stilsons and starting handle
What was done by this wench using torque wrench
Was nothing short of a national scandal.
With parry and thrust, and backhand she could trust,
She revised their dietary habits.
And her adjustable spanner, in perfunctory manner,
Quashed their dreams of breeding like rabbits.
Their future got wonkey when Uncle Joe’s donkey
Joined in with a drop kick or two
They were right up the creek when Max Boyce’s leek
Totally vanished from view.
Skin and hair flew. Contusions grew,
Howls of anguish grew louder.
Now it’s safe to assume, to walk in the room,
They're reliant on talcum powder.