My missus bought a paperback In Asda Saturday, I had a look inside the bag T’was "Fifty Shades of Grey" Well I just left her to it, see, And went off up to bed An hour later, she appeared Oh the sight filled me with dread
In her hand she held a rope The other, held a whip She brandished them around a bit And then began to strip.
Well forty years or so, ago, I might have had a peek But Doris hasn’t weathered well She’s sixty-eight next week.
Watching Doris bump and grind Couldn’t be much grimmer And things progressed from bad to worse She toppled off her Zimmer
She struggled back up to her feet, A good half hour later, Put her teeth back in and said That I must dominate her
Now if you knew our Doris, see, You’d know just why I cringed. I’d been two months in traction, cos My hips and knees unhinged.
She stood there nude. All naked, like, Bent forward quite a bit and Jumping back in fright I went And stood on her left tit.
Doris screamed, her teeth shot out, My word. What HAD I done ? She moaned and groaned then shouted out "Step on the OTHER one"
Well reader, I can tell no more About what occurred that day. Suffice to say, my dark brown hair, Turned fifty shades of grey.
Black and blue, battered too, With wanton, wild perversion, We decided that a night of sin Was scarce worth such exertion.
Thank Heavens she has binned the book And peace reigns, like before. She’s head to toe in winceyette And back to back, we snore.
I suppose we have touched on the big 'S' word here, however tongue in cheek ( so to speak ) but for those of us who have reached their twilight years you sometimes think that s*x is only what posh people have their organic spuds delivered in. ( oldie ) Don't get me wrong, I remember how it's done, much like riding a bike, just keep pushing and ( insert your own words here.................... ) But I'm all over the shop nowadays, don't know if I'm coming or going.
I mean, you can make the odd Google search error... say, you want to do a spit roast for a Barbie ( don't try this at home ) some of the results are nowt to do with pork 'n drippin'... ( scrub that ) but if this does happen I find myself being sucked in and thinking ' Chr*st that typography is appalling...
There's a few other ones to avoid Cottage Cheese ( don't go there ) and the worst is that word which describes In vocal jazz, this type of singing is vocal improvisation with wordless vocables, nonsense syllables or without words at all. Such singing gives singers the ability to sing improvised melodies and rhythms, to create the equivalent of an instrumental solo using their voice.
Please do'nt try !
I can't help it, 61 years of nudging and winking en Anglais ( my Mother tongue ) there's another! you get into a rut ( b*gger!) I swear, I would NOT be allowed a position of authority, ( that's not one ) back in Blighty as my entendre has more than doubled.
Is it just me? or do all anglo expats snort when someone says something like...? " Free Willie tonight, get the popcorn in"