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Yawn, yet another limerick.

Thursday baby yeah!

Lonely farmer confessed one day when boozing

To arousal when livestock perusing

He would moan in his sleep

Dreams of round bottomed sheep

Mornigns wake up quite sticky and oozing

Things I would not place inside myself – A poem

it’s somethign I guess…well actually not really…meh…

It seems that there are those that will, and I think it’s a farce,

but people (per the internet) do hide things in their arse.

I’m told (though not seen it myself for I share my PC

with kids) so cant research it but if I did I would see

 

Ripe marrows place in darkest holes, and veges by the barrow

inserted, lubed and with great force, pushed into bottoms narrow.

Digits, midgets, varied widgets placed where sun shines not

a friend of mine vanished a vase when on it she did squat.

 

This bloke from Scotland, cavernous, spread wide, bent to receive

the contents of Old Nick’s full sack when drunk on Christmas eve.

And I did read a tale of woe of one lad who took pleasure

dressed as a pirate placed gold coins inside like hidden treasure.

 

A story told of one young chap one night when feeling fruity

filed down a tooth bruch, electric type, to place inside his booty.

But not outdone a lass invited several chaps to sample

her gaping hole but it turned out that just the two were ample…

 

Things stuck inside, spread open wide, or isides falling out

each to their own, and when at home, I really have no doubt

that there are those who cant recall, have lost things, or forgotten

I might suggest they might just be lodged inside your bottom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My First Book – For those who missed it last time…

Seems I wrote one…

You can read about the WHY here…but it’s out there.  300 of my finest limericks.  Currently trending at number 359 in the limericks category on Amazon!

After a few people have read it I am probably about ready to admit I am kinda proud of it now.  🙂

Paperback in the UK is here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1916089011

And in the US here

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1916089011

There are ebook versions too.

 

 

Succumb

Mostly just rhymey lines of stuff

If time will tell of darkest deeds

Succumbed to burning wants and needs

And how for love she gladly bleeds

Hunger unfulfilled she feeds.

 

And in those moments laid quite bare

She spirals skywards through the air

And soars like morning clouds most fair

Unbridled without thought or care.

 

Lips blood red and wild unleashed

A lovers tale between the sheets

Where love and lust at crossroads meets

To bliss succumb and love most sweet

 

 

Still processing this…

They say confession is good for the soul but bad for the reputation.

I wrote here about things I am not good at.  Mostly to do with towels.

Anyway, turns out I dont know one superfood from the other either.

It is school holidays at the moment so I’m mostly spending time with the boys, not doing a lot but enjoying it nonetheless.  So we sit down and we are watching something on netflix and for whatever reason they serve up a serving of quinoa.  I believe it is pronounced Keen-wah.

Well I believe it now but until yesterday I had no bloody idea that is the same as that quinoa (Kwinoah?) stuff I force down my face when I am feeling particularly fat.

I honestly had no idea.  I mean one look at me abnd you’ll understand that I am don’t have a heavy keenwah intake but for whatever reason the fact just avoided me and I thought they were seperate things.

I told the family and they all laughed their arses off at me.  Even the 14 year old who’s brain only works between 11 and 2 each day and who is currently obsessed with knives and fire.

They then reminded me that until perhaps 8 years ago I had no idea that the spike in the end of an ointment cap is used to pierce the film lid.  Up until then I tended to use the outer prong of a fork though this did often result in something of a premature ointment explosion.

I reminded them that they were all garbage human beings and the 11 year old blonde one, fond of his facts and a bit of a know it all, ceased laughing most heartlily when I reminded him that he still couldn’t ride a bike and he better hope his hair darkens before he gets older because blonde haired male adults are just weird and creepy.

I wanted to say he would look like like a kiddy fiddler but showed some restraint when Mrs Afterwards gave me the look.

The even came to an abrupt end and we all had an early night after I suggested they eat my backside.  I know, wrong on so many levels and I know I ought to be ashamed of myself.

I blame it on the lack of keenwah in my diet…

 

 

 

 

Waking

These battles played out on the streets….

These battles played out on the streets

For heart and soul, beneath the sheets

And words they spill, lips full of rage

And like blood spill onto the page.

 

My now

Your then

Our what might be

 

And blinded, clambering to see

The path not taken, setting free

And time will tell, and roads will wind

As shrouded pasts are left behind

 

This evermore

That what could be

Those sweetest of tomorrow’s

Stars

Like stars beyond my reach …

Like stars beyond my reach those thoughts of you

slip through my fingers to my feet

head bowed faintest recollections blown like sand

I’m left here on this precipice.

Here in the darkness looking out

and fire burns on horizon distant

blood red, golden on my face

One last time wind whispers your name

Fading

One of these?

At night he whispers sweet reminders

of how it felt, quite swept along.

Returning tides compelled, jump in,

strong currents have their way.

And beaches red at sunset burn

as she returns to land once more

and on her lips his promise lingers

salt stained on her skin.

 

Until tides turn and whispers fade,

sepia tinged her longing rests

and deep she sighs, sea at her back

and smiling turns away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wtf

The end is nigh!

I’m away in the van out Flanborough way for a few days with the boys and within 5 minutes of arriving the sky turns into something I imagined would surely herald the end of the world.

I got the tent out that fixes to the van but hastily packed it away as there was no chance of getting it up before the storm arrived.

More to follow but just lying awake rather early due to my snoring, flatulent children and my most urgent bladder…

Next time…less beans…

Reduce — constant Variable

You’re gone, and then you’re back again You’re back, and then you’re gone Reduce your words by lacking pen The hourglass you fractured then But swirling grains of you, I’ve seen before, they never linger long You’re smiling, and then you frown You’re laughing, then you cry Reduce your presence and your sound I search […]

via Reduce — constant Variable

 

Read it damn it.  Read all of his stuff!

Always you

Just a few libnes…I’m off to bed.

Should I ever turn and find you gone

and memories are all I have

then each as treasure I would hold

each precious as the next.

 

Each sweet caress and gentle word

heart racing at your touch

and incomplete I recollect

each morning by your side.

 

For time and tide may senses dull

diminished may I be

you shine as bright as summer sun

and home is where I find you still.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Families

This is one I did for linda that I will not post here but please go see her and follow her because she is fab.  Do it!

https://mainepaperpusher.wordpress.com/2019/04/19/guest-in-jest-93-afterwards/

 


Families

We all have them.  Mostly.  I mean there are those that don’t see them, or don’t particularly care for them.  There are those that have disowned them and live a blissful existence where they are never obliged to try and see them once a year so as to not feel like a complete bastard –  even though a reciprocal visit is as unlikely as is a simple thanks for the present you sent their kids.
Heavens I am sure there are people out there who don’t have to like someone simply because they fell out of their vagina.
Okay so thinking about it I will admit that there are those who have, by fate or choice, simply ended up without any.   But we’ve all had them at some point then.  Let’s settle on that shall we.
Anyway my point was that I wanted to share a tale or two from mine this week.
I have two boys and like to think I’ve done my best and when last week the youngest looked most upset when watching a TV show about cancer patients and how 2 in 4 people will get the disease I thought “yeah, empathy, good qualities.”  Mrs’ Afterwards eyes welled up as we were encouraged to dial in and pledge just £2 to cancer research and she looked over to Aterwards Junior and assured him that it was okay, it was just part of life, but before she was able to assure him further he explained that “fingers crossed it’s you and dad that get it” and not him and his brother..
I see a career in politics or the church for him surely.
There was also an incident at the end of a particularly tricky day with my eldest who, despite being a lovely gentle boy, is prone to outbursts of profanity when I am perhaps a little less understanding of his hormonal situation as I might be.  He is 14 after all.  Anyway, the boys were tucked in bed and I came down from checking on them and Mrs Afterwards insisted that wasn’t it good that he hadn’t once insisted I fuck off this evening.  Straight faced.
To make it worse I actually agreed thinking yeah, I am fucking super dad!
The week though was crowned by a moment of such glorious madness that I believe I will be telling the tale for many a year.
A particular family member came out you see.  After more than four and a half decades a certain someone decided that in fact he was gay and had been fighting it for many years and was ready to admit to it and see where that lead.
More wonderful than this act of self acceptance though was his mother’s response.
She insisted that if that was his choice then he better not use her tooth brush ever again and there was absolutely  no way she would ever again eat any of his leftovers.
I mean what the fuck.
Dissect that as you will.
I mean does she think she will catch something from him using her toothbrush?  To be fair I don’t want to share one with anyone regardless of who they choose to place themselves inside.  Does she think she will catch syphilis if she eats his leftover sausage roll?
Does she think you can catch gay?
She is 75 so maybe she is worried she will eat half of his cheese and pickle sandwich and wake up desperate for a shaven headed tattooed lass to eat her out and then insist she fist her and there’s no way she can, not with her arthritic wrists?!?!
Oh god maybe Freddie Mercury got aids after sharing a family size bag of crisps with some bloke in a night club toilet?
People eh

Kiss my nuts

Okay so perhaps a work in progress title but it got your attention I am sure. Just in one of those moods 🙂 Sorry. Kinda.

Were I at last to recognise the thing that we became

The thorny, bristling, spite filled rage

That spews from me onto the page

And like so many through the age,

At last I give it name.

 

My not again, my what the fuck, my who the hell was I

Quite compromised, unrecognised

And like those fools, philosophised

That I was there, just drowned by lies

And watched as life passed by.

 

And then, unshackled, this my thought

Regret no more, not turning back

And craving not the things I lack

now place your lips upon my sack

And kiss them like you ought.

 

 

 

2000AD Art – Baberace 2000

Prog 886 11 May 1994

Not shown you any of this for a while have I.

I think perhaps I have too much of this art work lark because I found this behind the couch and have no idea when I bought it.  The couch is about two years old so I guess I have a rough time frame.

Pretty stuff though.  Acetate overlay on four pages of ‘Baberace 2000’ written by Mark Millar and drawn by Anthony Williams with lettering courtesy of the wonderful Ellie deVille.  Glorioustically stylistice and so very of it’s time and it remainsl so wonderfully vibrant even after 25 years.

Ive just realised I have another Anthony Williams piece on the wall next to me where I am sat.  I will have to show you that another time becasue it is a rather special piece indeed.

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Inappropriate Saturday Limerick!

Stay well away. You have been warned.

Friend of mine met a girl, dating started

Shit himself when he thought he’d just farted

He was out on a date

Though it turned out quite great

Coprophiliac, got her legs parted

 

Not sure what a coprophiliac is?  Google it.  Dare you.

 

Actually it reminded me of these from years ago…

Fetish Haiku – Chasmophilia

My Weekly Fetish Haiku 19th of January

Fetish Haiku – Forniphilia