Here we go again

Photo by Magda Ehlers on
Here we go again 

You used to talk to me, and bring me flowers. 
You would listen. We'd make love for hours. 

Hours, who you kidding. I could soft boil the eggs.
 It's a bit of a turn-off, your fat hairy legs. 

How can you talk, with all that up your nose. 
It helps hide the stink of the smoke on your clothes. 

What bloody cheek, you smell like the cat. 
You moody old mare, you vicious old bat. 

Listen at old Mr Grumpy himself. 
Cheeky sod, go take a look at yourself. 

Well, another love filled end to the year. 
Oops I forgot. Happy Anniversary, my dear.

Acute Angina

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on
Acute Angina 

Nothing could be finer, 
Than my man's acute angina, 
In the morning. 

Nothing could be sweeter, 
Than to see him thump his meter, 
Whilst still yawning. 

Nothing could be slicker, 
Than to stop his dodgy ticker, 
With no warning. 

Nothing could be quainter, 
Than to go with that new painter, 
He's been scorning. 

Nothing could be nicer, 
Than to know I'll cash the ISA, 
Then go mourning. 

ISA: Pronounced Icer, a UK savings plan.

Brief Encounter

Photo by Chait Goli on
Brief Encounter

I met my wife in Venice
Asked, "What you doing here?"
"I've come to watch the tennis."
"No. That's in Paris dear!"

The Old Romantic

Photo by Tristan Le on
The Old Romantic

Oh, I'm a big soft touch
Now that I'm wiser, older
I love my wife so much
I very nearly told her.

Knowing me, knowing you

Photo by George Becker on
Knowing me, knowing you

Where I see green
Do you see blue?
When I hear false
Do you hear true?

If I taste sweet
Do you taste sour?
Where I smell rat
Do you smell flower?

When I touch base
Are you in touch?
If I feel pain
Do you feel much?

I thought not, and
That's fine, just great
I'll get a dog
A true soul mate.

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