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PaulPJB


Stories
449

Player Active
15 Jul 17 - 24 May 19

Twitter
@PaulPJB

Trucking On! 250!

#130story

I met a girl called Gerty
Who I thought was a bit naughty
She said how about a merger
How could I refuse such a request
Then she screamed and shouted
It was about only business
I pulled my trousers up
Then she giggled
Then she cruely pointed
Is that the best I had

#130story

I couldn't do anything to help it
It went everywhere and was widespread
She was young and pretty
I was only a little younger
The back seat of the cinema
Popcorn everywhere
Clumsy always and ever
She never went out with me again
What in earth do you think I meant

#130story

Had burning energy
When I was young
Trampolining in the garden
When I was young
Jumping up and down
Bouncy, bouncy
In the garden
When I was young
A week ago
Up swing and swash
A court order
Maybe I should have trampolined
With my clothes on
Now not so young

Young” by PaulPJB, 21 May 19

#130story

I'm God's gift to women
Blokes also, if that's what they like
Riding down the road, naked, on a bike
I must warn you
I'm not one of those sexual objects
Up and down on a saddle.
Swinging left and right
You'll think you're lucky
Hand over eyes, and, out of sight

#130story

It was down here in Devon
The closest thing to heaven
The screens torn back
Ten foot wide; five foot thick
There; sitting proud, round and big
Rolling mighty confectionery away
The crowd couldn't leave it alone
Munch
Munch
Munch
Moss doesn't grow on a rolling scone

#130story

Sitting down for refreshments
With March Hare and Mad Hatter
Alice thought them strange
Distinctly odd behaviour
Slurping tea from a saucer
Cream on top of the jam
When Alice was back home
It was cream first in a scone
Terribly bad form if it was the latter

Oliver Cromwell would shout no no no
Would not countenance eating potato
Thought encouraged sinful vices
Charging immoderate senses
Charles Second had them by the ton
And he was a very naughty one
Now seems potato is everywhere
Wouldn't mind, except I seem to get none

#130STORY

#130story

That William Wordsworth
Poet of Lake District fame
Often found he was lost
A wordsmith with a lack of direction
He'd look up at the clouds
Those daffodils he wouldn't ask
Anyway; they thought him daft
Wordsworth not bad with a rhyme
A bit of a poet but awful navigation