**bawdy warning
----------------------------------------------
there was a scotsman called jock,
who lived near the village loch,
met a fair haired lassie,
whose walk is so classy,
but talks like a crowing cock.
jock was hoping for some sweet romance,
so took this lass to the sat`dee dance,
thought she was dainty and french,
but grabbed him in a tight clench,
now, he wanted much more than a dance.
dropping her silk knickers to her feet,
this girl was not overly discrete,
turning jocks cheeks rosy red,
she acted like they were wed,
when giving all her sweet lovely treats.
I once had a mate called Jock
Who used to swim in the loch
But his trunks got messy
When he bumped into Nessie
The poor bugger really got quite a shock.
Jocks real name was John
Obstacles, many he overcame
Complaining zero, he was my hero
Kinship with Scotland never strayed
His spine curves right, then left
one shoulder lower than another
A hitch and a wobble in his gait
couple shots of whiskey tempt fate
A caddy, he calls himself a ‘pro jock’
follows the sun to work year-round
Wows the young jocks with mythical tales of the (PGA) tour
~ though his liver will rot before long, that’s for sure
_______________________________________
A 'caddy' carries a heavy bag (or two!) of golf
clubs (usually) on one shoulder, traversing a
golf course of four or more miles.
PGA = Professional Golfers Association
In the name of Prank
What are we doing?
Abusing and humiliating
Flirting and dating
Pushing and pulling
Trolling and mocking
Slapping and thoking
Subscribing and sharing
Spitting and daring
Attacking and throwing
What are we doing?
Where are we going?
I will never fit in. That's one of my best qualities. Terri Willingham.
Jock always wore a sporran and kilted
Wore a clan tartan hat that looked quilted
But couldn't cope with the stares
And so now trousers he wears
Cos everything below has now wilted...
Word got round the town now everyone knows
Why Jock has taken to wearing strange clothes
He used to flash all his bits
Have the young lassies in fits
But now too embarrassed when the wind blows...
(a sporran is a small leather pouch worn with a kilt that serves as a wallet as kilts don't have pockets)
Written 26 September 2020.
I ran the 10K marathon.
At once I knew I’d chosen wrong.
My heart and lungs on fire,
I thought I might expire.
Next time I’ll safely watch from home.
9/03/2020
Thrifty Scots made a new High Street
from plastic trash folk used to eat
The USA
Won't pave that way
Trump claims that oil just can't be beat!
Hilary Billary Shmock
The lady is purebred shlock
She 'Bill-ked' the Nation
Via Libyan abdication
Hilary Billary Thwock
Her tongue's a nerveless nock
She squawks and squawks
Paranoid deplorables-crock
Hilary Billary Shlock
Give her the old hemlock!
April 15, 2019
A Realistic Hilary Clinton Poem contest
Sponsor: Michael Wegman
There once was a college sports jock,
Whose exterior was as hard as a rock.
But inside beat the heart
Of a connoisseur of fine art,
Whose colors he wore like a peacock.
Winter has arrived with a freaking cold blast
Could have been warned it's sure a jolt to our ass
Wearing shorts and a tank top
Woolies and tuques we now swap
The top models for style and eloquence I surpass
There was once a Scotsman called Jock
Who was always stroking his cock
But when the clock struck ten
He then turned to his hen
The egg basket is now restocked
.
05/07/2014
its why am in shake
foe heaven sake
to should do too
get a a book get hook
when you'll start
get out and
JOCK
Actually saw my first robin today
Gayly flitting from branch to branch
Please don't tell my super jock friends
They're just waiting for a chance
They'll start calling me “sweetie pie”
And kissing me on the cheek
Ask if they could escort me to the ball
And giving my nose a wee tweak
I'm just as manly as all those guys
With a soft side they don't possess
No excuses for my feminine tendencies
Even comfortable wearing a dress
Okay maybe that's going too far
The wearing of a dress I mean
Really haven't stopped playing with dolls
Now live ones wearing tight jeans
Can't believe this all started with a robin
A harbinger of upcoming spring
As I gayly prance through fields of clover
To a bouquet of roses I cling!
© Jack Ellison 2013
JOCK AND HIS DOG
Once knew a Scottish dancing geezer
Accidentally locked his dog in the freezer:
Seems the animal had just spilt
Some curds and milk all over his kilt:
Must have soaked right through his sporran.
(The dog of course was foreign .)
No Scots dog would do such a thing
As spill stuff mid a highland fling.
As Jock took stock of his tartan man-frock
The whole episode had been such a shock
The door of the freezer shut itself slam -
The dog was locked in with the ice cream and ham.
Oh but the key couldn’t be found,
Though Jock looked all around on the ground.
Turned out the dog had the key in his teeth -
He’d stolen it from the sporran sheath.
Poor dog got real cold till the police came,
Opened the freezer and on Jock placed blame.
But the dog hadn’t really suffered so cruel;
He’d eaten all the ice cream as fuel.
And the kilt was no worse for wear. . . .
But Jock’s sporran had lost all its hair.
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