Master baker with quite tasty wares
rather handsome the ladies would stare
as his buns were most round
and his baguette profound
his iced finger was extraordinaire
I want them to stop too but alas I can’t seem to.
Master baker with quite tasty wares
rather handsome the ladies would stare
as his buns were most round
and his baguette profound
his iced finger was extraordinaire
I know how you feel I really do. I’d avoid this one to be honest.
A young couple quite clearly in love
truly blessed loved the good lord above
then he watched too much porn
now her anus is torn
and looks awfully like a foxglove
Just for you because I know how you like them…
An industrious hobo from Kent
had no home, not a box nor a tent
sold his bottom for cash
round his mouth, nasty rash
on cheap liquor his takings were spent
Let’s continue the summer theme shall we. There are some sights out there to be seen for sure.
Soaring temperatures
drunk shirtless methodone tramps
all the girls bits out
Today I did actually see what appeared to be a shirtless methadone tramp. I think he had maybe lost his shirt though or left it in a dumpster because it didn’t seem to be about his person. Curiously he also had one trouser leg rolled up to the knee whilst he wore the other in the more traditional fashion.
How do I know he was on something? Well I don’t and I might be super judgy but I think walking down the middle of the road whispering to himself whilst staring wildly at passers by was a bit of a give away.
Still, I’m sure it was lovely to feel the sun on his back as he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the fine weather we are having.
On the matter of flesh well, you just head down to the market here and you’ll see what I am on about. Whilst I am all for body positivity whatever your shape or size that doesn’t mean I support adults wearing childrens clothes to go and eat sausage rolls on a bench outside of the bookies.
😉
mmmm robbery
day two of diet
would mug a child for sweeties
stab a tramp for cake
Let the games commence
Iran v poland
Its garbage but I’ll watch it
It is the world cup
Short and not at all sweet
Gravity my foe
claims pendulous body parts
sag like melted wax
It’ll be over before you know it I assure you.
I best get to bed
soon, just one more episode
Dawn…curse you Netflix!
It’ll be over before you know it trust me.
Monday back to work
Wake up hoping that I’m ill
Oh damn it feel fine
Incy wincy oh my bloody hell!
Oh I hear that your feeling unwell
You got bit and it started to swell
Lets hope it’s not a spider
That then laid eggs inside ya
Cos they’ll burst out, that’s scary as hell
Ooh what a lovely baguette you have sir
There once was a baker called Brad
Who was fancied by his girlfriend’s dad
The thought of his baguette
Brought him out in a sweat
And his cheese topped bread rolls drove him mad
Inappropriate and just a bit…meh
There once was a chap who loved cake
so much so that for sponges he’d ache
for panache he would pine
for gateau most sublime
fell in love with a lass who could bake
It’s saturday…not my best day for limericks.
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
I don’t have a dog called Caper – Daily prompt
Image courtesy of me
Once a prudish young woman named Jude
Had a belly that seemed to protrude
It turned out to be gas
Cos she not let her ass
pass wind as he found it quite rude
I once worked with a woman called Cath
Didn’t shower and seldom did bath
god the stench from her pits
Tits and rank naughty bit
It’s not funny you so shouldn’t laugh
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
I set myself a challenge this week…
Fatties in space – The Poem. Not for kiddies
Image courtesy of me
Limericks? In the middle of the day? Surely not…
There once was a teacher named Tash
Who one day she did sprout a moustache
Cross her lip it did wend
And curl up at the end
Joined the circus and made loads of cash
There once was a farmer maned Bert
Loved his milk cows so much that it hurt
Went too far, made me shudder
What he did with that udder
Let’s just say that it caused quite the squirt…
There once was dancer called Shirley
Who’s pubes were quite thick and most curly
It was full and so plush
A most seventies bush
Who’d have thought for a creature most girly
Want more stuff? I have lots of stuff…
I set myself a challenge this week…
Fatties in space – The Poem. Not for kiddies
Image courtesy of me
Silly and crass and most immature
Sometimes a limerick is all you need to say get well soon…
Oh poor baby I hear you caught syphilis
from that woman you slept with at Christmas
and gave it to you your wife
and it’s ruined your life
but at least you can boast of your mistress
What? Things like that happen..
Heard you’re spending some time on the loo
and your whole house it smells just like poo
and you really cant think
with your head in the sink
as its coming out of that end too
True story
Heard your boob job it went quite awry
when you look at them you just start to cry
‘cos they’re both different sizes
and they’re full of surprises
as one nipple looks like a pork pie
photo courtesy of pixabay
Drink up before it gets cold.
I have written on the matter of Tea on a number of occasions though it was rather a long time ago and very few people have actually read them. So I am going to rehash these two posts because, as I recall, they were fun and the first also touches on tea-bagging which you dont get to read about every day. The other is about Aliens, and everyone loves aliens right.
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/more-tea-vicar/
https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/27/the-intergalactic-language-of-tea-daily-prompt/
Admit it, you thought it would be about Trump right 😉
just do it!
Not an easy thing really is it. I mean what hasn’t already been said or done? What idea hasn’t been explored time and time again and how many blogs already do something very similar to the one you just created.
You know what, I haven’t been doing this for long so I am hardly in a position to give advice but Im going to. Just keep going at it, as hard as you can because most people are really lazy buggers with no stamina at all and they will probably give up at some point.
You don’t have to be the first to do something or even the best, sometimes working hard and sticking to your guns and not being lazy will get you somewhere. And if that doesn’t work then maybe you’re just not very good at it and need to try something else but at least you tried and that’s more than most people do because a lot of people are just pointless and the world wouldn’t miss them if they were gone.
But not you. You’re special because you’re reading this and somewhere out there are people who want to hear your voice.
Michael
X
I’m no Richard Attenborough obviously. In fact I’n not even a David…
I’ve always had a bit of a love hate relationship with nature. I grew up in Africa so there was very much an abundance of the stuff and we were forever outside. Wherever you went there was flora or fauna of some description and always of the sort of stuff people wax lyrical about. It was an incredibly beautiful place but it can become a bit much.
Pop to the shop and there was inevitably something ‘majestic’ of some description there in your face screaming “Look at me” and waving it’s arms frantically. Each morning the sunrise would require a slack handful of fire related adjectives before it would leave you alone and sunset would quite rudely demand your attention whether you had things you needed to get done or not. What’s wrong with a cold grey morning that lumbers along as you get up or it suddenly becoming dark without you noticing and accompanying fanfare.
It was though a wonderful place to grow up and whether the gorgeous expanses of the Highveld or the wild rugged coastlines it’s the sort of place most people would give an arm to grow up in and I’m really grateful that I did. I’m less grateful however for the vast array of things that wanted to kill us. Whether it be snakes, spiders, sharks, scorpions or any of the larger creatures there was such an array of deadly beasties that it really does tend to spoil things.
“Remember to check your boots for scorpions” was a piece of advice I received in the army that I will always remember.
As much as I loved it there I find England far more inviting and wholly less aggressive. Not that it isn’t completely without event though – occasionally we may have a bit of a slug problem and one day there was a badger that kept knocking over the bins which caused quite a stir. Anyone familiar with Yorkshire or the lake district would probably also agree that we compare pretty favourably to some of the more grand vistas out there even if we are more on the side of ‘picture postcard’.
But we all like different things, I get that.
Michael
that’s me…
Michael. That’s me.
This seemed like a good idea when I did the title but now I am less sure. If you’ve read me for more than a day or two then you know what I’m like and I don’t really need to tell you. I have a wife and kids who I love, a life I enjoy immensely and very few filters or boundaries.
You know what, I think that will just about do.
You really don’t need to know that I love comics or rugby or television or films or coding or laughing or being grumpy, that’s all there for you to see. You don’t need to know that I think Donald trump is a twat and that I find it quite heart breaking to see what he is doing to America because I grew up with all things American and it played a big part in my growing up.
And you dont need to be told that I like to make people laugh and dont take things too seriously and that I have a problem with authority and organised religion. It’s all there to see in my writing.
Thanks for reading and I hope you continue to take some pleasure in what I put out there and if not, meh, I’ll get over it.
Michael
X
If I were not here tomorrow…
Were I to die tomorrow then there are so many things I would not get to tell my boys. As melancholy a thought as it is it is one with which I have of late struggled though something I have yet to remedy. Such words of wisdom that are a father’s to impart would go unsaid and they would quite possibly venture into this world as young men without my deep and considered understanding of so many things.
Whilst their mother would without doubt provide them the support they need as young men I would not be there to explain to them why they should always ensure they place the drill chuck back in the little holder thingy on the handle of the drill to ensure they are not forever heading to the DIY place to buy another.
I ask myself who, if not me, should be the one to explain why darts is a sport and motor racing is not and why being a Yorkshire-man is truly a privilege.
My heart is heavy with the thought that at my passing so ceases the chance for me to impart upon them how a man should approach washing dishes so as to ensure he never gets asked again.
Truly though I believe the greatest gift we can give them is our presence, time and attention without which we cannot pass on our biases and prejudice.
Good god, what if they grow up to be Manchester United fans?
Just to be clear. They are not for sale.
I have two and I love them very much, which is lucky for them because there are days when I think they might just be a little bit faulty. Don’t get me wrong, despite their obvious flaws I still think mine are actually more pleasant than other peoples – and definitely yours – and I have the tedious photo’s and long winded stories to prove it.
I think/hope that my eldest may well have the most wonderful sense of humour as just the other day he asked whether the Germans were still looking for the Von Trapp family. Now don’t get me wrong, as an Englishman I am of a mind to think that somewhere there is a lower level Ortsgruppenleitner with a hatred for sing songs that is still hopeful of apprehending them, but truth be told that’s probably just me being awful. I was troubled enough to ask him whether he was serious, and I am still not actually sure.
The youngest is a precious little thing who has the most delightful ability to believe his own lies and I am most certain that he is destined for great things – probably in politics or banking. Such is his conviction that I often have to refer to the internet to support any argument I may find myself having with him.
Still, I wouldn’t be without them no matter how much I was offered for them – and trust me the little blonde one is worth big money in certain parts of the middle east. The elder brown haired one is probably worth less though he has broad shoulders and a strong back and would certainly do the work of at least one small mule.
Not that I’ve researched it. Honest.
To be fair, had I tried to return them or asked for a repair I imagine I would have been told that any damage they are currently exhibiting may well be my fault.
I do rather like Jam.
Given it’s Christmas and all J is most definitely for Jesus. I was going to write ‘J is for Jew’ but that sounded a bit accusatory and a kind of racist. It’s not is it? It’s only a word after all. I tend not to think about what is and what is not appropriate when I write and simply go with it and watch my followers to see whether it effects the number.
Maybe it’s how you say it? Or who says it? If I am standing on top of a burning car outside of a bank it is most like decidedly racist, criminal and a load of other things that my mum would not be proud of. If someone has a bomb vest on insisting J is for Jew and is shouting for his friend Alan Akbar then again – I am thinking it is probably a negative use.
Conversely, if I am wearing a little white hat thing on my head attending a colleagues son’s something-or-other where they cut parts of his dick off then I think it is simply a statement. I sit and reflect: “Oh yes I see, J is for Jew.” It’s almost a rather comforting and warming moment feeling that I am connected to a people that have spanned all of written memory.
Guess how it makes you feel is about you and not me really.
P.S.
You know, google is great. I searched for ‘Jewish Cock Cutting Ceremony’ and it informed me it was called a bris. I am assuming lots of other people have searched similar terms. See, I’m not alone in my ignorance.
P.P.S
J is also for ‘Jam’. I do like Jam.
You can shove your i spy!
Before I get into this I would make the point that I love my boys very much and would do just about anything for them.
If in doubt understand that I will regularly unclog their toilet – which they seem to prefer to only flush every third or fourth visit – with only minimal shouting and threats. Look closely and you will see that the bonds of love are such that I have been known to tidy their rooms for them and only remind them once or twice that the option of adoption remains on the table until they are 18.
Still to be convinced? My heart overflows with love so abundant that only recently I was witnessed preparing them 3 meals in a single day. That’s true human kindness right there…
That said, there are limits and those limits come in the form of board games. I really do not enjoy one bit sitting down with the family for an evening of board games and frivolity. It takes almost no time at all for me to upset somebody because I refuse to let somebody win because they’re ‘only little’. Play against kids of your own age if that’s how you want to roll but as far as I am concerned you want me to play, I will play to crush you. Ideally I will make you never want to play board games with me ever again.
I know it makes me a terrible person. I will pay for their therapy when they are older. Might also explain why we have a cupboard full of unused board games.
The wife likes to play with the boys when I am away though, which is nice.
And don’t get me started on bloody i-spy. As if driving in this country isn’t hard enough with it’s constant roadworks and sheer weight of traffic…I travel miles and miles having to try and guess the quite ridiculous things my youngest apparently spies.
Get lost Thomas you didn’t spot Batman, T is not for “Tornado” and you can get stuffed if you believe that you saw a clown in the car that went past us 5 miles ago. You’re a liar and your lies make baby Jesus cry!
And don’t go crying to mum when I insist that Psoriasis begins with a P, and you’re no doctor so the dry skin on my elbows could well be something more serious and your diagnosis is worthless because you are only 9.
😉
Need a hand with that get-well-soon card? Perhaps feeling a touch on the gassy side?
This week they will be on the matter of getting well soon, so if you know someone who ails you are more than welcome to borrow them if you’re thinking of sending a nice card and some grapes perhaps. Let’s ease in nice and slow with something pleasant shall we. There’s plenty of time for it to go awry I assure you.
Heard your suffering, and poorly my friend
How I hope that you’ll be on the mend
pretty soon feeling fine
itll heal up in time
told you never to pierce your bell end
Photo courtesy of pixabay
Need a hand with that get-well-soon card? Perhaps feeling a touch on the gassy side?
This week they will be on the matter of getting well soon, so if you know someone who ails you are more than welcome to borrow them if you’re thinking of sending a nice card and some grapes perhaps. Let’s ease in nice and slow with something pleasant shall we. There’s plenty of time for it to go awry I assure you.
I heard you’re quite bloated today
And you stomach’s all growly you say
Just give in, let it out
Unleash hell have no doubt
You’ll feel better quite soon, fart away
Ha that picture with this poem made me chuckle. There must be a fetish haiku in it surely…
photo courtesy of pixabay