T’Other day Inchcock suffered from Chronic writers block…
So off he went, to town to buy himself a new alarm clock,
Socks, medications, ear-muffs and a new frock,
Antiseptic cream, hearing-aid batteries and butterscotch,
Painkillers and wound coverings for his bleeding crotch,
Hearing aid-batteries, pipe baccy and a bottle of scotch,
Pawnbrokers, put his shoplifted Cartier watch into hoch,
Money in his pocket, proud as a Peacock,
Went to get the bread and the bone of a ham hock,
At the Nottingham beach festival he thought this I’ll de-frock,
He grabbed her round middle and thought poppycock!
As he cuddle up to her he got an electric shock!
Now he resides in a police cell-block,
Feeling right fool and great pillock!
8 thoughts on “T’Other day Inchcock suffered from Chronic writers block…”
Oh here we go! Well, it’s a real shame. You made such a lovely couple and I’ve never seen you look happier!
That’s Grizelda gone back to Germany, now Plastic Peggy gave me another shock. Still, I’ve got me medications… Hehe! Tsk!
Oh, well at least that!!
Mr Steedenski said he’s see what he can find in France that no one else wants and try to get her to come back with him. I’ve told him I did, I have high standards when it comes to women… oh yes, I insisted that she is no older than 89, no taller than 6’8″, had her own hair and walking stick… Oh yes, I told him I did… but he nodded off dropping his glass of Claret on the cat. What was I saying?… Er…
You drive a hard bargain Inchy! Maybe you should lower your standards a bit.
Oh, fair enuf then gal. Up to 86 year old, with or without own hair (Except underarms, I like them) and even if they eat French cheese, garlic and belch a lot? Hows that? Hehe.
I know gal, I’m as soft as grease I am…