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Lou Nelhams treats us to this tale of infidelity.
My Missus
I never believed what people said
That me missus liked other blokes in her bed
So I'll tell you my story,
Each word it is true
Just in case it should happen to you
Came home from work
Early one night
Walked into my house
And had quite a fright
My missus was chained
From her toes to her head!
She saw me and fainted -
When recovered she said......
"Oh Harry, you gave me a terrible shock -
I was trying my lovely new chain-mail frock!!"
I chose to believe when I looked in her eyes
Just couldn't conceive that she'd ever tell lies
Then later that week
On returning from darts
I noticed my wife had the terrible farts
I asked her "Pour quoi?"
She replied as such -
"The eggs, they were off
And I ate far too much!!"
I thought nothing of it,
Settled down for a nap,
But was aroused from my slumber
By our squeaky cat-flap
I thought this quite odd
As our cat was long dead
Then through sleepy-hazed eyes
I could see this blokes head!
I jumped from my chair
And I pointed with blame
"This man is your lover,
Now tell me his name!"
She tried to stay calm
But her voiced dripped with fear
And she feebly offered.......
"It's the milkman my dear!"
I should have paid heed
To the words people said
Indeed it did seem
That she liked 'giving head'!
I confronted her thus,
In response she did say,
"But to you I can't do it -
I think that you're gay!"
I took a deep breath
Told her "Don't hit the roof,
But it seems now's the time
For the sharing of truth.........
Don't take it too hard,
But the truth of all this
Is the 'Mr' you married
Was at one time a 'Miss'!!"
Copyright Louise Nelhams.
I find the next verse absolutely revolting. I'm sure that's the reaction Dean was looking for when he wrote it.
Grans Demise
What's the worst thing that could happen to you whilst waiting for a bus?
How about your leg exploding and covering you in pus?
Granted, it's quite unlikely but it happened to my gran,
Although she's a special case, she was formerly a man.
Dont let this incident deter you if you're on your way today
To have your bits and bobs fiddled with and turned the other way
I'm assured by those who know about these things it's quite unlikely
That your limbs will go bang and leave a mess that's most unsightly.
See, the trouble with my gran (or gramps, depending on your view)
Was a general view of life considered sane by just a few.
So when he or she decided fun could be had by changing gender
She did the op at home instead of acting like a bender.
Now gramps (as he was formerly) had no surgical expertise
And the tools he used were better employed for chopping trees
But still he thought a successful home op would make him famous
Maybe thats why he f**ked up and sewed his leg to his anus.
Copyright Dean Nelhams.
Jas Maddock shows remarkable insight into the music business in the following excellent poem.
The Mediocre Abilities of Teenage Wannabees
She's called Sharon and she reads The Stage
Answers adverts for singing girls on the pages
You can join a new all original 5 piece band
In fact like all the other groups in the land
The advertisers try to make it sound fresh
So they can get their short-skirted flesh
And shag a plenty with slags young bags
Then dump them when their bits begin to sag
Sharons' not sagging so she digs out a CV
The lie document for all aspiring wannabees
Packs up her cheap demo that she cut for 10 quid
Of Britney Spears covers that she unfortunately did
In goes a stage photo all gloss and cheese
Big fake grins and no double chins please
In a top so low cut it makes a ribbon look wide
And in a bra so tight she almost fainted and died
Greg was also reading the ad in The Stage
The same request for singers on the same page
An all new 5 piece to rival Steps and Five
Held in an audition room bound to be a dive
Greg was boy band, Greg was all earrings
A wonky blond dyed moppet all young thing
Worked in Top Shop to afford his singing demo
Scribbled down love lyrics on Post It Memos
Sharon and Greg went to the arena
Of baiting producers and waiting Garys and Tinas
On one minute and off with a 'Next!'
Their squawking shrill tones left them vexed
The audition was in a back street old pub
That was smelly and damp and filled with grubs
Not just the management spotting star potential
And willingness to sleep with them was essential
Sharon was nearly late for her 2.00 call
Because of a tourist who misdirected her to a church hall
She would ask a tourist, that's just her luck
And after a 10 hour delayed journey life sure sucked
Greg nearly got run over in the mad dash
His clean shirt got splattered in mud splash
Nearly lost his return ticket to Wolverhampton
When he stopped at a caf for a coffee and scone.
Greg burst in as the management called 'Greg!'
But he was relieved when it was another Greg
And dashed to the toilet to clean up his shirt
Wiped off the mud and stray bits of dirt
Sharon went on next in her 1 inch skirt
The management man in check shirt was dirt
And no scrubbing him in the toilet would clean
This letchy mans' leerings were quite obscene
His name was Gerry and he had a pacemaker
A crap baseball cap and a face like a Quaker
All red and jolly but a very unholy man
For the next 5 minutes he was a Sharon fan
He salivered and drooled as she squeaked
And watched her blouse and the twin peaks
Scratched his balls through combat pants
With Sharon he thought he'd have a chance
Her voice was that irritating modern whine
So in a teeny band she'd do just fine
All fake come hither looks and promise of f**ks
But in secret they skit at their fans'looks
On their turgid plop a long brain damaging toss
Sugar saccharine flavoured all a like dross
No better than New Kids who should be on a block
Or Bros dross candyfloss ripped trouser Goss
Nowadays it's Five who can't count any further along
Billie the Kid and Westlife half life cover songs
Steps the Schweppes fizzy dizzy troupe group
One wishes dearly they would all develop croup
Sharons mind was just on her songs
Not on pre baked boy bands the ready meal in thongs
She squealed and strutted through pop
Britney baby Hit Me One More Time slop
'Wonderful, marvellous give her the job'
Said sleazy check shirt whose pants throb
Sharon whooped and screamed in delight
But she wouldn't be so happy later tonight...
Greg could sing he had a reasonable sound
But sleaze man was jealous of muscle bound
So he told him he was chronic and to piss off
'You shouldn't even sing in the bath', he coughed
The other management agreed in fear
That if they accepted Greg he'd slice their rears
So Greg slunk back depressed to Wolverhampton
On his found ticket and cried and wished he'd not gone
Sharon though was full of girly cheer
And was sent to meet the other pop five here
There's David and Shelley and Paul and Tori
All bouncy happy people with no life story
They all giggled and welcomed young Sharon
And warned her of the sleazy pop baron
Who would expect sex tonight in his mansion
And sexy exploits for the sleazy man of passion
Sharon squirmed in disgust at this idea
She was hoping that he merely just leered
But he was after a little more than looking
This manager went through the band f**king!
He rotated the band on a daily routine
David one night and Paul and Tori the teen
Now it was Sharon's turn to romp and play
Or it would be bye bye dear if no hey hey hey!
Sharon wouldn't couldn't entertain sleaze
She imagined that he would likely wheeze
And grunt with all the lan of a boar
In the mating season how he'd roar
So Sharon had a cunning plan
To ward off the sleazy chunk of ham
She substituted herself for a blow up doll
In his bedroom he knew no different, how droll!
So she could sing in his stupid group
But she would never have to grope.
Copyright Jas Maddock
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