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A poem by Mr Bonx…
Mary had a little friend
A lesbian called Nancy
They‘d sit around for hours and hours
And play with things they'd fancy
'Put away that marrow' young Mary cried
It's far too big for me
But wise Nancy smiled and impaled herself
Her face was wide with glee
The batteries are flat the girls sighed so
We better get some replacements
I'll nip down the shop, and get some rope
For the other assorted attachments
Oh how wet they were and thrashed about
Like someone left a tap-on
Mary grinned and positioned herself
And did Nancy with a strap-on
"We don't need men" said these girl's aloud
These things stay hard all night
They don't get pissed or flop about
And lie and cheat and fight
Or drive like twats and doss around
And spend hours in the pub
Chat up your mum, slap your sister's bum
And fart loudly in the tub
Or act like kids with silly toys
Last week "the bloke" got a computer
It blew up today due to porn abuse
And were no substituter
Or brag and brawl like snotty nerds
And think they own the planet
They tell crap jokes, are arrogant shits
And eat food like a gannet.
With outdated cloths and a shaven head
There the apocalyptic scrag-end mutton
Who humps away for a minute or two?
And hasn't a clue about our button
So the girls collapsed in a soggy heap
To lay in a soft warm slumber
Hang on a mo, Nancy jumped up quick
Now where's that large cucumber……..
Meanwhile, down the pub we blokes discuss
Whilst swilling, farting and laughing
Corr, look at those two birds over there
I bet their in need of a shafting.
Go on there boy, give her what for
And says "hey babe I'l see you later"
She smiles so sweet and calmly replies
"There are more brains in my vibrator".
Oh how we try, just to impress
With our Neanderthal macho ways
These girls are more impressed with Rodger rabbit
And a nightclub full of gays
But come the day, when wedded bliss
Knocks upon the door
It never matters how much we earn
They still want more and more
And as the strain begins to show
When the kiddies have been born
It's off to the pub, and the blonde bar girl
And nights of computer porn
Then she chucks you out, cursing loud
You blokes are all the same
So it's back to mums and poverty
And were tiring of this game.
So now meanwhile, back under the sheets
Naughty things are stirring
Nancy's found a double ender
That speaks as well as wurring
"Take that ya bitch", the plastic cock screamed
In a blur of wrists and snatch
With both their eyes crossed and panting loud
They agreed no bloke attached
But if he's rich that's okay
Like some kind of wealthy banker
It seems we'll have to redefine the term
So what is it that makes a wanker?
And so to finish what can we do
In this war of words and penis
Some-one has done a book somewhere?
Men are Mars, women Venus.
Mr B..x
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