“THE SHOOTER & THE SCOOTER” A shooter from the mountains, got a call one day An invite to a wedding, in the tropics far away ‘That’s just the break I need’ he said, it’s getting too cold here ‘It sounds much more inviting, under palm trees over there’ The wedding was a blast; his mates were all there too They talked bullshit all through the night, while sampling local brew Next day he thought he’d tour about, upon the only road The hiring of a scooter, was the favoured transport mode He took off on the scooter, the wind blew past his face He felt like “easy rider” as he sped about the place But the wind blew up his hunting shorts, and around his nether region His poor old family jewels, they felt like they were freezin! Incarcerated for so long, they thought they’d have some fun So they tumbled out his trouser leg, in to the blazing sun He tried to keep composure, but he felt the thrill of fear As they swung down by the motor, and the manifold so near He changed gears on the scooter, he made it go real slow He tried to stuff the culprits back, but they refused to go The g-string he was wearing, couldn’t jail the brutes They escaped back to the sunshine, and dangled near his boots With tourists all around him, his embarrassment did grow For just like a Christmas lantern, they were swinging to and fro Some young girls on their scooters, squealed with pure delight While other portly matrons, almost died of fright For in all their worldly travels, they’d not witnessed such a scene It ranked among the highlights, of the places they had been! His mates that rode beside him, could not contain their mirth As he battled with the errant jewels, beneath his ample girth He thought he’d best retreat now, back to his beach abode To find more suitable attire, for scootering on the road As he sped back to the Motel, he was feeling jolts of pain As the sun burnt family jewellery, kept bouncing off the chain! With sprockets running closely, he felt sure great pain would come His moustache stuck out like fencing wire, it would clean a 12inch gun! But he made it to the Motel room, with all his bits attached Although the undersides, were badly bruised and scratched He cast aside his hunting shorts, emerged with trousers long With boyangs around his ankles, and a belt to keep them on Now he’s had enough of palm trees, and scooters in the sun He yearns for far off mountains, a wild deer and his gun A mountain stream, a snow capped hill, and bush all soaked with rain Where no-one will see the family jewels, should they escape again!
Posted on: Thu, 15 Aug 2013 21:00:12 +0000
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