Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown,
Tapping at the window and crying through the lock,
Come on everyone and look at my - undergarments
Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown,
Tapping at the window and crying through the lock,
Come on everyone and look at my - undergarments
Are you wearing anything at all?
When you make a phone
call
From your big desk in
the study
Do you sit there in
the nuddy
I certainly pictured
you that way
When you called me the
other day
Are you sporting a Brazilian?
I think you might be
Gillian
I don’t think you have
a silly’n
Not like your kid
sister Lillian
Who leans towards a
Chilean
Or your older sister
Jillian
With her moustachioed
Sicilian
No, I think you my
daring Gillian
Might well have a
Brazilian
Which is probably a
chilly’n
Summer girls
Glistening with suntan
oils
Clad in bikinis
On yellow sunlit soils
And how the suitor
Athletically toils
To catch their eye
And so, take the spoils
Oh, pretty girl
With the dirty-blonde
hair
You may be the answer
To a lonely man’s
prayer
I have been watching
You are standing there
And I’d like to ask
A question if I dare
Are you as dirty
As your dirty-blonde
hair
From the moons of Jupiter
And the areolas peaks
Across the navel
plains
To the crater of
Uranus
And the mound of Venus
I moved toward the light
Drawn like a moth to a
flame
It was a benevolent
light
Not dazzlingly bright
But soft and easy on
the eye
And when the vista
opened wide
It emerged into
serenity
With sweet music
everywhere
And love enveloped me
Like a soft blanket
In the place of
perfect peace
I stepped among the
angels
Where no shadows fall
It’s a blessed miracle
I've been in love with
the same woman
For more than fifty
years!
It’s a greater miracle
That my wife has never
found out,
If she, did it would
end in tears
I love going on blind dates
They just thrill me to
bits
They don’t suit
everyone
But hey if the cap
fits
I do lots of blind
dates
As many as time
permits
We meet in a quiet
place
Where I sit and stare
at their tits
Everyone needs a hobby
And my dad is no
exception
He has built up a
rather large
Empty bottle
collection
There is a name for it
It’ll come to me in a
tick
It’s on the tip of my
tongue
Oh yes, he’s an
alcoholic
Seesaw Margery Daw
Johnny shall have a new master
He shall earn but a penny a day
Because his employer
is a bastard
Are you wearing long underwear?
Something with its own
trap door
Well, no matter how
good they look on you
I’d like to see them
on my bedroom floor
When no undies you are wearing
Your undercarriage
gets an airing
And I will not look on
in disgust
Should your skirt be
lifted by a gust
When the wind gets a
little brisker
And all and sundry see
some whisker
I shall be the one who
stood and leered
At your well aerated
little beard
You can take a horse to water
But you can’t teach it
to suck eggs
Do unto others before
their death
Every dog has a silver
lining
Every cloud has his
day
Glass houses make jack
a dull boy
A bird in the hand is
a penny earned
A new broom sweeps many
a slip
All roads lead to the stable
door
Caesar's wife begins
at home
What's the difference between
A weasel and a stoat?
They can both be used
To make a fine coat
So that’s not the
answer
Well, no need to
lament
One's weasily
recognized
The other stoatly
different.
Just a little heads up
When everything's
coming your way,
Don’t get too cocky
You’re just in the
wrong lane. Ok?
I don’t compare myself to others
Of greater worth or
merit
Or try to compete or outperform
them
Simply, I am my own
man,
And I am content to be
so
I am happy to be
transparent
So those around me can
see what I am
And know the content
of my heart
And because of my
strong principles
I have self-respect
And in return I ask
only one thing
To be respected
Never confuse, without exception
Excellence with
perfection
Excellence you can
strive for
Perfection is
something more
As I heard Michael J
Fox once express
Perfection is God’s
business
My wife said she'd like to have sex
In the back seat of
the car
I thought things are
looking up
I like what I’m
hearing so far
Then she said she'd
like to have sex
In the back of someone
else’s car
I thought things are
looking up
I like what I’m
hearing so far
Then she said she'd
like to have sex
With the guy we just
met in the bar
I love you Darling warts and all
Though I can’t seem to
recall
When we first met at
the mall
And we chatted in the
food hall
You ever mentioning
warts at all
Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my son John,
Went outside with no trousers on
Both shoes off and no
pants on
Along came a policeman
“You’re nicked son”
Are you wearing anything?
When you hear the
phone ring
And do you reach for a
negligee
Or are you comfortable
that way
I know that when I
give you a call
I want you to wear
nothing at all
So, when next you hear
it ring
When no undies you are wearing
You think yourself
quite daring
Exercising your Joie de
vivre
As you wander wild and
free
And it’s so exciting
for me to think
Of fresh air blowing
around your mink
The spa wrangled planner
No, the Tsar bangled
tanner
The bra strangled
Hannah
Or the scar dangled
manor
The car mangled
spanner
Or the bar tangled
scanner
No, it’s the Star
Spangled Banner
I was driving to work this morning
It was just as the day
was dawning
And I noticed a parked-up
AA van
And next to it was a
crying man
But properly weeping
and wailing
Down on his knees with
arms flailing
I just shook my head
with a frown
I knew he was headed
for a breakdown
Edward Bulwer-Lytton wrote
“The pen
is mightier than the sword”
This is, indeed, a
fine sentiment.
That we should
heartily applaud
But when faced with machine
gun fire
I fear the proposition
is flawed
I know with certainty
That, nine times out
of ten
When in my house
Something is broken
Or just malfunctioning
I know before I see it
The probability is
One of my kids did it
And the 10 percent of
times
They are off the hook
Then I know who to
blame
By my wife’s guilty
look
I leapt up out of bed,
And I opened the
door
In my pyjamas,
Wow I’d not noticed it
before
What a very odd place
For there to be a door
A man made a boast
It was a real
humdinger
“I can turn this duck
Into a soul singer”
He repeated his boast
Despite being mocked
And made a wager
That left them shocked
They took the bet
That was a real
humdinger
To see him turn a duck
Into a soul singer
He said as he took the
duck
That he called Mr
Smithers
“Now I’ll put it in
the microwave
Until its bill
withers”
Three fish in a tank,
One says to the other
ones
I'll drive the thing
If you two man the
guns
What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails, and puppy dog’s tails
That's what little boys are made of!"
What are big boys made of?
Chips and ales, and chasing girl’s tails
Are you wearing black?
Yes, it’s a funeral I
know
But underneath the
garb
Is that all black
also?
No, it’s not
irreverent
Picturing you in lacy
black
There was no bigger
letch
Then you’re dead uncle
Jack
You’ve gone commando, haven’t you?
Don’t shake your head
I know it’s true
That blushing vividly
betrays you
And that’s only one of
many clues
I have a clinical eye
for what I peruse
And I can see dandruff
on your shoes
When I say, "I love you", I mean it.
Look into my eyes and
believe it
Look into my heart and
feel it
I don’t like swimming in the sea
I don’t care what you
say it’s not for me
It’s not that I’m
scared of sharks or eels
Or that I don’t like
how a jelly fish feels
It’s not even because
of stone fish stings
Or the flotsam and
jetsam the tide brings
You may think my
phobia quite absurd
But I can’t be swimming along with a turd
A fact remains a fact
Its logic remains intact
Its basic premise is
unflawed
Even if the fact is
ignored
My pastime is, that I like to Fish
I’d do it all the time
if I got my wish
But my wife hates me
doing it
And she wants me to
stop doing it
I say to her it’s just
my hobby
She says it’s just
plain nobby
I say potato she says potaeto
I say tomato she says
tomaeto
I say it’s just an
innocent pastime
She says next time
should be the last time
I say it is about the
quiet peace
She says it has to
cease
I say it’s
appreciating the stillness
She says it’s a mental
illness
She says I need to get
a life
I think I just need a
different wife
When toward my bed I stumble
My wife greets me with a grumble
“Hello, my little apple crumble”
I say as in her nightgown I fumble
My advances are met with a mumble
“Dearest, my desire is quite humble
A little bit of rough and tumble”
Her reply is yet another mumble
But we did have a Christmas fumble
Before
Well, you look a
little sallow
Right down to the
marrow
What you need is a
drop of sun
In a bottle I have the
very one
Just go into the salon
And you can put some
colour on
After
Well, my dear fellow
You’ve gone a little
yellow
I think a touch too
much
In fact, much too much
Of the prescribed fake
tan
How will you pay Mr
Marzipan?
The hand on the knee
No, the bland of the
tea
Or the stand of the
tree
The gland of the pea
Or the band of the
free
No, the sand of the
flea
The brand of the ski
No, it’s the Land of
the Free
The Sandman's coming
In his train of cars
Think! Tiredness kills
Stop at the next
services
Pretty little Mary
Lives on the prairie
And works in the dairy
Her routine doesn’t
vary
Pretty little Mary
Skips like a fairy
Sings like a canary
But is cautiously wary
Pretty little Mary
Is on the contrary
Really rather hairy
And a little bit scary
Are you wearing a body stocking?
Something chic, sheer
and shocking
Sexy all in one and
figure hugger
I bet your bum still
looks like a mugger
A young lady I met in the street
Asked of me “Sir, do
you tweet”?
I answered, “No, of
course not
But I have to say I do
trump a lot.”
At my age I can safely say
I do not need more
gizmo’s
Labour saving thingamajigs
And gadgetry
so-and-sos
The garage
door opener
And the TV remote
With those two things
I can just about cope
And I sometimes find
Though they are useful
I get them mixed up
To be quite truthful
Do I care she’s not a perfect 10?
I’m really not that
fickle
To be honest any bit
of fluff
Gives me a trouser
tickle
I think that down below you are bare
You have nothing on
down there
There are things
you’re not wearing
And I think you’re
incredibly daring
But should the
temperature turn ill
And you feel in danger
of a chill
Fear not for I will
execute my plans
And rescue you with my
warm hands
Oh, what calamity did befall?
What an embarrassment
for us all
We over imbibed on Saturday
night
And awoke on Sunday
none too bright
On the porch the paper
lay unread
We couldn’t face it
and went back to bed
So next morning which
was Monday
We found the paper and
thought it was Sunday
So, we had a relaxing
fun day
Not realising it was
really Monday
On Tuesday when I
returned to work
I really felt a proper
berk
My boss had a true-blue
fit
And saw no humour at
all in it
And verbally assailed
me with his rancour
Then he called me a
total fool
Some like a girl
Blessed with a certain
glamour
Some like a girl
Who uses proper
grammar
Some just want one
That bangs like a
hammer
You are a woman
Who attracts and enamours
You may not mean to
But still every man
clamours
For the opportunity
To get in your jammers
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children she didn't know what to do!
Sadly this case is not an exception
If only her daughters
had used contraception
Dreams are an odd part of life
Last night my
considerate wife
Woke me from my slumber
to declare
“It was so bloody unfair”
I said “what on earth
is wrong?
“What’s unfair, what’s
going on?
“The life of a sports
journalist”
She replied and she
wasn’t even pissed
It is such a travesty
Of a decision I fear
Carol Vorderman
Winning Rear of the Year
But I wonder if Pippa
Gives a damn
That the voters
Prefer mutton to lamb
Are you wearing underwear?
Or are you naked under
there
Have you gone
commando?
Oh I really do hope
that’s so
I like to think you
are bare
Walking around sans
underwear
My son has announced
His intent to take the
pledge
To give up eating meat
He has given to allege
But I don’t know what
he’ll eat
As he doesn’t eat veg
I have met a woman online
A fellow silver surfer
We had a date last
night
And I really fancied
her
But it’s been too many
years
And I couldn’t satisfy
her
I think I’m suffering
From penile dementia
I don’t need stimulation
Of any kind
Because I have simply
Trained my mind
To flick a switch
If I need to perform
A simple “click”
And I have the horn
I can get an erection
With a single thought
I consider myself
To be self taut
What sacks should I use?
In the garden?
Should I use plastic?
Or maybe Hessian?
I’m not sure I care
To be quite factual
I suppose it’s because
I am bi-sacksual
I am definitely ready to say it
I hope she is ready to
hear it
How will she take it,
who knows?
I take a deep breath
and here goes
I stutter and I stammer
thru
She said “I know and I
love you too
You are so cute and fit
But you don’t seem up
for it
Is there a reason you
won’t play
Do you swing the other
way?
Are you playing hard
to get
Or haven’t met the
“one” yet
It will take more than
charmers
To get into your
pyjama’s
Because I think for a
start
They must get into
your heart
Sing a song of sixpence a pocket full of rye,
Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.
When the pie was launched the tills began to sing,
It seems that McDonalds will fob you off with anything
Dreams are really very odd
Last night my wife sat
up and said
“Tell Lionel to stop
It’s really hurting my
head”
I enquired politely
What the hell she was
on about
“Lionel Blair is in
the wardrobe
Get the tosser out”
Now considering the
early hour
I had the patience of
Job
And softly said “Why
would he
Be in our wardrobe”?
A fare question, I
thought
She just gave me a frown
“Tap dancing you
idiot”
And then she lay back
down
It seems to me that a man in his middle years
Is rendered more
attractive, almost immediately,
To the opposite sex,
if found to be wealthy
And/or he is a well-known
TV celebrity
Are you wearing a bra?
It doesn’t look as if
you are
I think underneath
your shirt
Your breasts are free
and pert
And clearly if they
are
Then you don’t need to
wear a bra
Pearl's a singer,
She stands up,
When she plays the
piano
In a night club
Pearl has a sister,
She really pongs
And that’s why she’s
lonely
Her job was
entertaining folks,
Singing songs and
telling jokes
In a nightclub
Shirl’s her sister,
and they say,
That she once was a
winner, now she’s hopeless
Shirl's a minger, and
they say,
That she once had a
shower
They said it was about
a year a go
When she succumbed to
the B.O.
It was rancid
Shirl’s a minger
She stands out
Coz she won’t lose the
BO
In a bathtub
I was feeling fruity last night
But my wife wasn’t in
the mood
She said she was too
tired
For doing anything
rude
But I was still
feeling fruity
So, I pleaded for her
to succumb
Finally, she said
“ok”,
“Pull my nightie down
when you’re done”
My wife is mad
Last night she snored
so loud
That she woke herself
up
Then she hit me
For snoring so bloody
loud
That I woke her up
But to add insult onto
injury
Which left me upset
I was the one who
hadn’t
Even been to sleep yet
The News of the World
Oh, the irony is sweet
The news of the screws
That tawdry scandal
sheet
Hoisted on its own
petard
Because of its crime
They have become their
papers
Biggest scandal of all
time
The Vicar’s sermon
Frank and forthright
Raised the question
Of the widow’s mite
Quite unnecessary
In my humble view
Because in our parish
There are only two
And I know for a fact
That they both do
My dear old mother
Recently passed away
But it came to my
attention
Only the other day
That she was in fact
killed
By a “Mrs A”
The lion and the unicorn
Were fighting for the crown
The lion beat the unicorn
All around the town
The vicious ambitious lion
Beat the poor unicorn
so cute
But with one final
effort
The unicorn killed the
great hairy brute
A young lady called Marti
Is vivacious and
hearty
And just a bit tarty
But great fun at a
party
A young lady called Gerty
Is perky and flirty
Divertingly perty
And just downright
dirty
My wife is mad
Last night she snored
so loud
That she woke herself
up
Then she hit me
For snoring so bloody
loud
That I woke her up
Dreams are really very odd
Last night I sat up in
bed
Clutching a pillow to
my chest
And then I loudly said
“I’m off up the garden
To bury the dog”
My wife barked “You silly
sod,
We haven’t got a dog”
My wife has a terrible habit
Of staying up till the
early morn
And I can't break her
of the habit
Of staying up till the
dawn
Why on earth does she
do it?
Is she up surfing the
internet?
Or is she an incurable
insomniac?
No, she stays up coz
I’m not home yet
In my fantasy
You bring me ecstasy
In my actuality
I crave your
sensuality
So, it would seem
Some make you cringe
Some drive you mad
Some make you freeze
Some scare you bad
Some are enormous
Some are minute
Some are horrendous
Some are quite cute
Some of them jump
Some cause a rash
Some make a buzz
Some make you dash
Some make you itch
Some make you sick
Some kill you slow
Some kill you quick
Some of them bite
Some of them crawl
Some are big
Some are small
But what they share
Is that insects appal
I have to be honest
I hate them all
In the Rear of the Year
Lovely Pippa Middleton
Was pipped at the post
By Carol Vorderman
Clearly those
concerned
When the bikini replaced the bathing suit
They were brief, but
also rather chic
But the briefness was,
nonetheless,
Still sufficient to
cover both cheeks
There was a little Guinea pig,
Who, being little, was not big;
But from its head down to its feet
It was extremely good
to eat
Though he is immortalized in the tale
Of Saint George and
the Dragon
It is as one of the
Fourteen Holy Helpers
That his patronage is
built upon
When you sit next to me
The skies seem to
brighten
I feel sunlight on my skin
And all my senses heighten
Just being in such
close proximity
Makes my old heart lighten
Just imagine if you
only knew me
Then I’d be as invincible
as a titan
Versatile Polyhymnia
Muse of singing
Muse of mime
And of sacred dancing
Though a cool day
The spring sunshine,
Was hot through the
glass
And combined with the
wine
And an excellent lunch
It wouldn’t be long
methinks
Before I slowly succumbed
To the long blinks
It was noisy and unrestrained
Ill-disciplined and
bestial
A rambunctious coupling
That was making her squeal
Smoldering looks
Flaming desire,
Lustful tingling’s
And passionate fire
Eager anticipation
Tantalizingly relishing
Adds to the fantasy
For later embellishing
The body is a temple
And worthy of
protection
Its purity is sacred
And is God’s gift of perfection
But for your body I crave
Its complete and utter desecration
The first time I touched you,
Beckoned by temptation
Was a magical
experience
Even in my clumsy seduction
My tender advances met
With spine tingling
response
And in a bloodless loving
coup
I broke down your
sconce
She was a siren
She was a vamp
She was a harlot
She was a tramp
She was always hot
She was always damp
And you could turn her
on
Like she was a lamp
Star light star bright,
The first star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Get my hands in Glenda’s tights
I don’t have a favourite;
I love each and every one
Whether happy or sad
Cheerful or glum
I love Chaise Blaise
And Bombay Rene
Pulsy Dulcie
And Crochet Fay
I love Gray Kay
And shorn Fawn
Blue Pru
And forlorn Dawn
I love Taxi Maxi
And Swish Trish
Victorian Dorian
And Swiss Bliss
Laura, Laura
How I adore her
I saw her, Laura.
Laura with the Aura
I saw her with Cora,
The lovely Senora
What’s she doing for
her?
Laura for the Senora
Ah she’s sharing her
Aura
Ah there’s Pandora, see?
Satisfying Laura Lee
And she’s doing it
orally
Oh, my little piece of
Tottering tottie
You really light my
fire
You are such a hottie
I think you are easy
Like as nottie
My pretty little missy
Let me fumble inside
the silk
Of your well filled
blouse
Or at least something
of that ilk
You temp me and tease me
And then displease me
You go cold and freeze
me
But then you seize me
Hug me and squeeze me
Not just to appease me
You want me to please,
see
And I have expertise
see
But you too can please
me
And then you reprise me
On your breath
There is the smell of
peppermint
And on your cheek,
Is that a flush? at
least a hint
And a look on your
face
Of the guilty kind
You’ve been up to
something
I can’t make up my
mind
But your misdemeanor
is,
Unless my instincts
are failing
That you’ve either
been
Swallowing or inhaling
Your touch is sexily silken
Your hands are like
gloves of velvet
You’re the greatest
lover
You’re the one I’ll
never forget
Blah blah blah, enough
of the poetry
Just put your hand up
my pelmet
We’ve been at it ten
minutes
And you haven’t got my
pants off yet
Skin as pure
As fresh drawn milk
And to the touch
Velvet, satin and silk
No blemish
But for natures kiss
A beauty
Made for sensual bliss
There was an old lady who swallowed a fly
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - perhaps she'll die!
Well she will if we don’t get rid of this useless bloody government
I do have a favourite;
I like them with a similar name
Basically I have a bad
memory
So the names should
sound the same
Like Rosita, Lolita
Sita, Rita or Nikita
Anita, Margarita
Benita, Nita or Greta
Have you ever eaten vegetarian?
Have you done that; do
you reckon?
Well, no I haven’t,
but I’d like to
Tell me do they taste
like chick’n
A mannogram is a new test
And is the most
effective way
Of detecting if a man
has a heart
So, get yours checked
out today
I’d been to some bars
And drunk a few jars
And while I was there
I became the worse for
wear
When my double vision
Started causing
derision
And tired of the scoff
I took myself off
To be greeted at home
By a malevolent gnome
The bane of my life
My diminutive wife
But when I was drunk
I wasn’t afraid of the
skunk
Her anger I would
dismiss
And bring her round
with a kiss
But my advance was
declined
Which I thought was
unkind
I thought I would rise
above
Her rejection of my
love
But despite my attempt
To show her contempt
She still wouldn’t let
me in
I thought it may be
the Gin
So, I used reasoning
Without any seasoning
But what I said to her
Just came out as a
slur
Then she angrily said
“Go and sleep in the
shed”
Toward little ones I incline
Your little breasts
are fine
As sweet as cherry wine
Your threepennys are
klein
Toward little ones I
incline
Small by natures
design
Beautiful when you’re
supine
For your little
breasts I pine
Toward little ones I
incline
Disappearing when you
recline
Your nakedness I love
to entwine
And your little
breasts are mine
Toward little ones I
incline
The scientists want to
refine
I like them little,
bottom line
They are the top of
the line
Sex isn’t just lust
Or a mere coupling
A base fulfilment
Of primeval need
Or secreting
pheromones
Its isn’t just
mechanical
Or indeed chemical
It isn’t in simple
terms
A trigger to be pulled
It isn’t all out of
control
Exchanging fluids
And sweaty effort
There is more to sex
than that
But I will accept
That it is mainly lust
I always used to see her
And wanted to take a
trip
In her little yellow
beetle
As she cruised the
strip
But she never noticed
me
Though I hoped one day
In her little yellow
beetle
She would drive me
away
Then one day out of the
blue
She pulled up along
side
And said “hello handsome”
And took me off for a
ride
Well, that was quite a
night
That I will never
forget
In her little yellow
beetle
I had the best ride
yet