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Poem

Last night my missus gave me oysters for my tea
I was really kind of hopeful for a night of tumble round whoopee
I showered and shaved, it helps to smell like a stud
But her half dozen oysters must have all of been duds.

Things were looking desperate so I engaged in some foreplay
Thats the thing that old men do when they want a roll in the hay
I grovelled and I pleaded, even whined like a dog
But for all of my best efforts all I got was a snog.

So should she ever come home, bearing that little wee blue pill
Don't think that I got lucky or had an evening of thrill.

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