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| Topic: Young Freddie Law (Explicit. May offend) | |
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Now this is the story of young Freddie Law
Who’s sexual equipment, Got jammed in the door. By the time they had freed him, He didn’t feel well, For his poor private parts, Were mangled to hell. They rushed him to hospital, The ambulance flew, But when they arrived, There was naught they could do. What a bad blow for Fred, Condemned without choice, To a life without sex, And a high squeaky voice. But lucky for Fred, So he wouldn’t feel a fool Some bright spark suggested A bionic tool. A smart new electric one, Made out of brass, Though the batteries would have to be kept up his arse. Now, newly equipped, and after a rest, Fred thought he would put his tool to the test. So, finding a woman, The nearest one handy, He plies her with booze, To make her feel randy. She, without waiting, Put her hand in Fred’s’ flies. And when she felt what was there, Gave a cry of surprise. “That’s my bionic chopper, Now let’s have some fun.” “Cor blimey,” she said, “It feels more like a gun.” They stripped off their clothes, And Fred entered fast. Then he turned up the speed dial, And gave her full blast. They clung to each other, As Fred’s d*ck shook some more. Then, they bounced off the bed, And onto the floor. Now, the pace hotted up, And they started to choke, As the air in the room, Filled with an acrid blue smoke. With a bang, Fred’s left bollock, Shot up in the air, And his other went, Bonkety bonk down the stair. When Fred went back for repair, Full of woe, Was this how his sex life, Was destined to go. To return to the doctor, At the end of each shag, With his d*ck in his pocket, And his balls in a bag. But, the doc fixed up Fred, Made him manly again. They fitted him with batteries, With a flex to the mains. So, if he can’t get a girl now, Lucky Fred doesn’t cry, Cos’ he’s now AC/DC, And can go with a guy.   |
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