Friday, 13 March 2015

Potter's Poems.


Ohh Mrs!! Titter ye not! How very very dare PSG!

Jose,Jose, in your 4 grand jacket
Prowlin’ the line ,must be on a packet
A gesture a sneer well fancy that
on order from Harrods here’s your jesters hat
Croydon’s top casuals havin’ it large
a lone metro traveller easy to barge.
See they love you they love you wohh-wwwohh
The Hugo Boss fatties, next stop Savlle row ?
To your credit, you slagged them, which I really admire
nearly as much… as I like your attire.
I’m growin’ quite fond of your Frankie Howard pout

next time when you,re miked up just take a time out.
Cos the clichéd pundits Messer’s Lineker
& co
drone on like a space cake minus weed to much dough.
You don’t fool me, you love playin' the fool
just like all the great showmen you’ve only one rule.
Keep the punters happy, yes you’ll get my vote
and when xmas is comin’ please send me that coat.



The Horribly long-oval faced twat, JC (jowl'd  cunt) Himself

Not really sure wot it is I hate most
the name of the show or the moronic hosts.
Talk about pistons and the strength of a horse
A nuclear strike I’d happily endorse
Middle age toffs, Henry n’ Henrietta,
Baying like sheep things can only get better
says the one who resembles a sad seventies  clone
or a geography teacher still living at home
Then comes Thomally Sebastian  and tomboy little sis
named after her brother, oh heavenly bliss!
Yes she’s Ttom with two tt’s, our fave nanny did choose
to close to our horses she plied them with booze.  
Paps said “bestiality to me, that's just fine  
It’s a oneness with livestock, simply devine”!
By now dear readers it’s so plain to see
I’m more for Lambrini than Lambourgini
Stout yeomen, three stooges , I need to redress
It’s the top gear audience I fuckin detest

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