I can’t always muster anything too long when typing on my phone as its far too tricky but Im still awake and seems sleep is some way off.
It is half past midnight and I am in the Premier Inn in Scarborough with the wife and kids and the cocophony of the blissful sleep of others means that you get one more post. Pretty place Scarbrough. I wrote a post or two back why I am awake.
Anyway…my point was that I think I will just wrote one more piece. Perhaps something dirty about Donald trump and Angela Merkel.
Why? Since when did why matter?
How electric was her touch
proud Donald thought on meeting
He felt a stirring down below
As the Fraulein he was greeting
His mind it raced, perfume he smelled
So buxom quite devine
Strong back big hands delicious chins
He craved her “she’ll be mine!”
His mind it wandered, pulse it raced
He hungered for her touch
His little hands they craved to feel
Her German curves so much
Unable to control his needs
he turns Away from twitter
And sneaks away to please himself
Whilst hiding in the shitter.
“Oh Angela” he cries aloud
and dwells upon a kiss
Trousers round his ankles
Face contorted in pure bliss
OK I think I am going to bed this is just getting weird now.
Photo courtesy of 3dman_eu@pixabay
