Oi! You!!
Codlegs!!
Stop milking the limelight with your webbed feet!
It's the 100m swimming badge today.
But I'm not scared.
You've got no more badges on your cozzy
Than I have on mine.
So, in the words of my grandfather,
I shall give you a jolly good trouncing.
One minute, you won't take your shoes and socks off.
The next, your the Pavlova of the Public Baths.
Well, I'll beat you. I'll beat you, my friend.
They should never have twinned Slimbridge with Nempnett Thrubwell.
It was a social argument waiting to happen.
Those of us with independently articulated nostrils can relate to this poem in a most alarming fashion. (I've drawn the curtains, so it's okay to be crepuscular, if that's your thing.Just keep the noise down during the vole-fingering season.)
ReplyDeleteLove and cauliflower,
Will x
As usual, the last couple of lines have me rolling on the floor - lucky I just hoovered it, eh?
ReplyDeleteWho would have guessed that such a dinky little pair of feet could cause such a strong reaction. If you swim wearing an oven mitt on each hand that should be like having webbed hands and give you an advantage.
ReplyDeleteAt university I had a jet propulsion device cunningly disguised as a veruca on each foot and was all set to break the varsity record for the freestyle land speed record on water till I was banished from the pool on medical grounds (fungal infection and insanity)
ReplyDelete"In the words of my grandfather" reminds me of something someone said the other day (they said their grandfather used to say it): "play pop with", meaning "tell off".
ReplyDelete