Powems Wot I Av Writ
I am a man,
I am wot I am.
I like burgers,
Sausage and ham.
My dinners, of course,
Are cooked by my wife.
Married to me,
An honour in life.
Whilst all day, when I diligently travail,
With my Rod, I'd readily you impale.
An innocent junior employee,
I flirt and impress, masterfully.
My wife, of course,
Despite my male right,
Slaves for me,
Drudges, all through the night.
Oh how I'd love so much to divulge,
The secrets of my ersatz bulge.
I am the man, manager, main mogul,
You in your low-cut top I ogle.
Oh wife, of course,
You augment our assets.
But I'll sordidly cheat you,
Yet demand your respects.
Your breasts like fragrant oranges bloom,
You let me speed-grope in the printing room.
My mid-aged manliness in a whirl,
Not using me; not that type of a girl.
Wife absent, of course,
At work again.
Loyal love and trust,
I treat with disdain.
My mates have affairs, they give it a go,
Real blokes - they screw, but wives don't know.
You tantilise, titilate, I go all slobbery,
You say, "You almost made me feel horny."
Wife absent, again,
Working through the night.
You're giving me, "signals,"
I think I just might.
Office junior, oh how you flirt,
Oh my lurve bulge, how I would squirt.
Science and chemistry, all will unfurl.
Corrr, darlin' you're one sexy girl.
You mention your boyfriend,
I view him with rancour.
Could it be, I'm just a sad, stereotypical,
Male, middle-aged, manly man who doesn't listen to the good advice from the ladies and chaps on Mumsnet.
Tosser