[kirklancaster]

A Valentine For My Mate Hog:

I love your poems, dear Waterhog Because they always make me smile. But TIBB girls won’t let you poke ‘Jeremy Hunt’ So try the slappers on Jeremy Kyle.

But 'Jezza' girls are not that bright, In fact, they’re really quite silly And won’t care about the size of your gesture, Only the size of your willie.

And if you stipulate ‘Girl’s who can cook’ You’ll be singing the wrong kind of ballad, ‘Cos Jeremy Kyle girls can’t even spell ‘oven’, And will end up burning your salad.

So do you prefer a ‘sure thing’ who can’t cook, Or a ‘No No’ who’s like Mary Berry? ‘Cos one might say, “No way” ,but cooks for a gourmet, And the other’s a tart with no cherry.

I’d make it a night to remember Hog, With Chocolates, Roses and Candles, But don’t lose your rag if you opt for the slag, and she turns up in ‘T’ shirt and sandals.

And make sure she understand euphemisms, Or else she may start to gripe, And get really vexed when you start to talk sex, about the meaning of both ‘Crack’ and ‘Pipe’.

And how I’d love to be a fly on your wall, At the precise moment when, She says to you “Take off my knickers and bra” And don’t ever wear them again.

Anyway Hog, a St Valentine’s date , Is better than a night watching telly, But upon my word, if you’re stuck for a bird, I can send you Fat White Dee Kelly.