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Edna Sweetlove Aug 2015
This is one of Barry Hodges' most inspired memories.

  'Twas morning time in times of yore and I, bold Barry Hodges, stood outside my store, my giant vegetables on display for all to see, when lo and behold! a luxurious limousine drew up, and from the back there emerged a gorgeous form of voluptuous statuesque feminity.
  "My God!" I cried, it is that beauteous lady from *La Dolce Vita
, the wondrous Anita - and I gazed with joyous on her divine body, imagining it sprawled lasciviously in my bed, legs open as wide as a major road junction on the M1 motorway.
  "Excuse me", said she in that Italo-Swedish voice guaranteed to make any man wet himself copiously, "But I am a-lookink for a shop a-called 6B, and yet all I can-a-see is a Barry Hodges' the Master Geengrocer's, complete with a giant cucumber or two, which I 'av to say remind me of somet'ing tasty."
"Dearest lady, said I, you have come to the right place: 6B is the trading name of my sister enterprise: Barry Bodgers' Boil Bursting Beauty Bureau which is located upstairs, Barry Bodgers at your service, my dearest, most delightful Fru Ekberg."
"Shhhhhhhhh! I am een deesguise, not even dear Federico knows I am-a-here." And thus, assuring her of my utmost discretion, and forming a bond by saying that I too, the famous Geordie seducer, Barry Hodges, had indulged in a slight nomenclatural change in order to separate the two sides of my business interests, and in order to do a spot of money laundering on the side.  "But," I enquired, "How is it that you have need of the rather specialised medical services we offer, you who are so radiant and bella-bella?" She lowered her eyes seductively and promised to reveal her terrible secret.

As I ushered her up the stairs to the studio, my eyes on her ****-cheeks wiggling like two delectable beach ***** in a sack, she told me the sad tale of the immense boil which kept recurring on the middle of her back and which no amount of corrective surgery could fix.
"Aha!" I exclaimed, "Only Barry Bodgers, the world's greatest boil-sucker, can effect the cure for which you long, and I shall operate on you personally, not entrusting such a task to even the best of my boil-bursting minions." I added to myself, "Also I want to give you a good old bonking while we're at at."

Once we attained the privacy of my consulting room, I instructed her to strip off utterly so I might examine her, and I can tell you, dear reader, that her **** **** was a joy to behold. I too divested myself of my clobber, knowing that boil-******* can get a bit messy at the best of times. Jesus wept!, but the mighty boil betwixt her graceful shoulders revealed when de-plastered was a true horror, with a yellow tip as big as a Grade One Belgian Turnip. I explained that I would **** it out whilst I rogered her from the rear and that, when she felt her ****** on the way, she should scream out to that effect and I would then bite the core of the boil right out in a blaze of mutual ******* glory, before applying a dose of my exclusive Boil Preventative Cream, namely a handful of our conjoined love-juices extracted from her gaping ***** by hand a few seconds earlier.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" screamed the Swedish bombshell and with a mighty **** like an industrial Dyson FX334 on full power, I slurped and  razor-bit the boil, bursting it asunder, smothering my eager face in blood and putrid pus, thereby causing me to blow my *** as ne'er before. The green core of the boil emerged from its fleshly cavity with a deafening plop as we came together like a nuclear blast d'amour.

O, but only then, as my seminal outpourings soaked my jim-jams, did I awaken to discover yet another nocturnal emission. And, not unexpectedly, dear Nurse Nellie, having heard my cry of ecstasy, rushed in to my bedroom, head-shaking and tut-tutting as usual, as she knelt down and licked my tum-tum dry.
"Yum, yum" she murmured in her dulcet Northumbrian tones, "Ah've looked after three generation o' Hodges laddies, and I kin tell ye, your *****'s the tastiest of them all, ye bonnie wee man."
"Better than Grandad Charlie's?"
"Why aye, mon, yours is well creamier."
Lucky Queue Nov 2012
Hello! Hello! Over here!
Step closer, lean nearer
Ladies and gents
Laddies and lasses
Dogs and sheep of all ages
Listen as I tell you of my fabulous new invention:
The bobby pin.
It pins hair and cash alike
A paper clip in a pinch
Open locks
Dig a coin from a crack in the floorboards or
Mark your spot in a book
Put all over your face and fingers,
And make ridiculous looks.
Poke a hole in some paper,
Moustache in a moment
The uses are endless my friends,
You can't live without it!
So crowd around, line up
And buy a set of your very own
Muiltpurpose,
Bobby pins
Toni Dec 2018
The cobbled stones, awash by moon
The drunken laddies that sip and swoon.
To gaze upon the midnight beaut
Would parish ones will to that of Newts.

Thus lady’s hair does fall much like
A waterfall of pure moonlight.
With eyes of jewel and crystal light
Sets ones soul ablaze and heart, bright.

With opulent lips, does she possess
Such voice of tinkling bells distress.
With wisps of silver at loves cheeks
Gold flecks do twinkle at brows peek.

To tame such beauty is hopeless venture
Too many a drunk lad, sweet and tender.
To gaze upon midnights supple dream
Is to be more than merely heard, but seen.
I’ve been reading so much about the Fae, their feet keep tapping their way through my head!
r Aug 2018
Heave away laddies
sail away you ladies
let us lift our glasses
to that one-eyed spy
aloft in the dark nest
looking down to what
we have spelt out in
the fires of driftwood
drinking to the light
filling the silent sea
wooing its bed right
below my window,
and to the memory
of the rusty revolver
held tight in my right
hand I keep beneath
my hard, cold pillow
O, night, you old sailor
your victory, I salute.
Gerard M May 2021
I found them cause of music or YouTube

Some of them I knew who they were

But didn't care about them when I was younger

They're the ones who I say "Top Of The Morning To Ya Laddies" or "Where's The Black Smith" with

Or instead sing Oh Miss Believer or Thnks Fr Th Mmrs with

Most of them I consider my best friends

Some of them are Patrick, Pete, Joe, and Andy

Others are Jimmy, Chris, Chandler, and Karl

They're there for me when any actual people aren't

They're the ones who don't care about the fact that I'm LGBTQ+

They just see me as another human being that's a fan of their music or channel

I try to remind myself about the Fall Out Boy lyric "You Are What You Love Not Who Loves You"

And tell myself that I'll be like Frank Iero and JackSepticEye

Some of them are the reason why I'm going to be a youtuber

I ask myself all the time how in the world did they somehow wind up being someone I consider friends
With his tricorn hat
and his sea dog rats
he heads back to the high seas
Shouting, come on me laddies
picks up yer gears
we're going on a pillaging spree

Leaving Dover without a sound
they are to the Americas bound
Weeks did pass into months
with captain in cabin with the ****
then one day, shouts from crows nest
did say, Land ahoy.

Captain was on deck before you knew it
barking his orders so brave
his dogs barked and run around
his crew were nothing but slaves
gun ports open, loaded and ready to fire
no one could know, what would transpire

Then from the bay coming their way
was a sight so frightening to be seen
a massive metal beast all a gleam
through his eyeglass could see it's deck
and what a sight to see
Open mouthed he sighed, Metal birds there be.


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2017
patriarchy? am i really having this "talk"
in a bingo hall with the old ladies
and laddies?
       i must be: something terrible has happened
and i don't want to stop the bleeding
of the punctured artery,
i'd prefer air-piano or air-drumming...
      but from what i've seen,
and it was coming like a bowling bowl
in caligula's bowling alley of severed heads...
can i please wish denzel washington
the same illustrious career as a film
director as that, which awaited clint eastwood?
can i? patriarchy... hmm...
the society where man is the head
of the household...
oddly enough i share mutual respect
with my father, over nothing but him
allowing me to train the alcoholic,
     he says: don't mind you drinking,
well, i do, but better you drinking than
smoking dope...
      mind you: i'm functioning in my addition
and in what i subsequently do...
it must reveal me as a very stable drunk,
given that i can do household chores,
cook dinner, and keep my mouth shut...
and sometimes a mutation happens,
esp. if you've been raised by an alcoholic
grandfather from the ages of 4 til 8...
seeing your grandmother thrown through
a glass door with a broken arm...
   what did i do in revenge?
puncture his bicycle wheel...
      and there was this common ****-to-be
who deserved much attention
by the nick: ukraine...
  **** of thugs, or there was hubert -
who's mother who drank enough white
vinegar till her stomach shrank and
she died from stomach shrinking contractions...
i trusted even the most vile of polish thugs,
but it was part of the tribe...
then came england and multicultural *****
whipping, sentenced to be among egyptians...
i don't exactly know who i am not
going to forgive, the society that made the ****
the way it made him, or whether the ****
himself...
nonetheless, you want a depiction of
patriarchy, i'd tell you to watch denzel's first
directorial effort in the film fences:
may he have the same illustrious career as
a film director, akin to clint eastwood...
pucker up with that plum shadow the next
time you attempt to "understand" man.
Walking all over the city streets
that silly buffoon cant stay on his feet
waving his arms like a silly man
drunk as sailor riding in a micro-bus minivan
Wearing his top hat and rugged white dress shirt
with black dress pants and a pair of loafers,
he pleases the ladies to which he flirts.
swinging his Cane in a circular motion
and singing loudly to a starlight commotion
he dances in the quarter with many a men
but the laddies join in only to commend
with the upbeat music so loud and obnoxious
the man lives in a limelight pulsus paradoxus
meaning that the man cant keep a beat
while hes skipping off merely into the street
with no one around to catch his fall
the man slowly pained by a party drain
to live in a limelight he cannot contain.
He falls asleep on the cold sidewalk city walk
to wake up to a new party in the incentive to a loud obnoxious talk
drunk witty and insane the man dressed like the rich
but in his own demise he was only but a frayed stitch
a showboat that the people could see right through
he was only a dreamer and lived in the limelight
to which he never outgrew.
a party animal must grow up at some point
Dr Peter Lim Mar 2021
You wore red roses on your shining hair
at the meadow's end I was waiting there
love was all over the radiant summer air
you were the fairest of the village-fair --

all the village-laddies knew you well, dearest Clare
your radiant eyes no other lassie could compare
I'd love you till the world's last sunset, that I did swear
but you loved me not---your heart was somewhere!
ah jest wanna boomerang back into the womb

No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
haint got any got any
handy dandy blues clue,

nonetheless said wish
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.

Sudden­ pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting

Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
(geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,

thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this

before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying ****
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...

Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy

lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse

learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,

one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
ah jest wanna boomerang
back into the womb
versus being threatened
courtesy beastie boy gang
beating me to a pulp
after accurately discerning
being scared shitless pang
suddenly imagining myself
buffered, and buttressed
within zen Sibyl
prophet table Chinese philosophy
known as Yin and Yang.

No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
haint got any got any
handy dandy blues clue,

nonetheless said wish
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.

Sudden­ pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting

Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,

thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this

before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying ****
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...

Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy

lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse

learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,

one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!

— The End —