Post by m8withblackbird on Jan 26, 2013 16:05:15 GMT
I don't know who wrote this, but it's certain to raise a smile
I'll tell you a story that's certain to please
Of a grand farting contest at Chatham-on-Tees
Where all the arses paraded in fields
To take part in contests for various shields.
Some cocked their arses to fart up the scale
While others trained on a few pints of ale
While those whose arses are biggest and strongest
Competed in contests for loudest and longest.
This fine easter morning had drawn a big crowd
And betting was even on Mrs. McLoud
It was said in the papers, the sporting edition,
That this ladies arse was in perfect condition.
Now old Mrs. Jones has a perfect backside
With a bunch of red hairs and a wart on each side.
She fancied her chances of winning with ease
Having trained on a diet of cabbage and cheese.
Now old Mrs. Patricks was backed for a place
For she'd often been placed in deepest disgrace
Having farted at church and drowned out the organ
And gassed at the Preacher, poor Marmaduke Morgan.
Mrs. Bulge arrived amidst rounds of applause
And promptly proceeded to pull out her draws
Tho' she'd no chance in the farting display
She'd the prettiest arse you'd see in your day.
The vicar arrived and ascended the stand
And proceeded to tell this remarkable band
That the contest was as shown in the bills
And excluded the use of inspection and pills.
The entrants lined up at a signal to start
And winning the toss Mrs. Jones had first fart
The crowds were astonished in silence and wonder
As the leading lady let off a peal of thunder.
Came next Mrs. Patricks who advanced to the front
And started by doing a remarkable stunt
With wide parted lips and tightly clenched hands
She blew off the roof of the 50p. stand.
Now Mrs. McLoud thought nothing of this
She'd had some weak tea and was all wind and piss
With hands on her hips and legs spread wide
She unluckily sh*t and was disqualified.
Now young Mrs. Bulge was next to appear
She turned to the crowds and they gave a great cheer
They thought she'd no chance in the contest at all
But she took first place by out-farting them all.
With hands on hips she farted alone
And the crowd was amazed at the sweetness of tone
They agreed with the judge, who said without pause
"First prize Mrs. Bulge, now pull up your draws!"
She advanced to the stand with a maidenly gait
And took from the vicar a lovely gold plate
Then she turned to the crowd and started to sing
While farting the first verse of "God Save the King"!
I'll tell you a story that's certain to please
Of a grand farting contest at Chatham-on-Tees
Where all the arses paraded in fields
To take part in contests for various shields.
Some cocked their arses to fart up the scale
While others trained on a few pints of ale
While those whose arses are biggest and strongest
Competed in contests for loudest and longest.
This fine easter morning had drawn a big crowd
And betting was even on Mrs. McLoud
It was said in the papers, the sporting edition,
That this ladies arse was in perfect condition.
Now old Mrs. Jones has a perfect backside
With a bunch of red hairs and a wart on each side.
She fancied her chances of winning with ease
Having trained on a diet of cabbage and cheese.
Now old Mrs. Patricks was backed for a place
For she'd often been placed in deepest disgrace
Having farted at church and drowned out the organ
And gassed at the Preacher, poor Marmaduke Morgan.
Mrs. Bulge arrived amidst rounds of applause
And promptly proceeded to pull out her draws
Tho' she'd no chance in the farting display
She'd the prettiest arse you'd see in your day.
The vicar arrived and ascended the stand
And proceeded to tell this remarkable band
That the contest was as shown in the bills
And excluded the use of inspection and pills.
The entrants lined up at a signal to start
And winning the toss Mrs. Jones had first fart
The crowds were astonished in silence and wonder
As the leading lady let off a peal of thunder.
Came next Mrs. Patricks who advanced to the front
And started by doing a remarkable stunt
With wide parted lips and tightly clenched hands
She blew off the roof of the 50p. stand.
Now Mrs. McLoud thought nothing of this
She'd had some weak tea and was all wind and piss
With hands on her hips and legs spread wide
She unluckily sh*t and was disqualified.
Now young Mrs. Bulge was next to appear
She turned to the crowds and they gave a great cheer
They thought she'd no chance in the contest at all
But she took first place by out-farting them all.
With hands on hips she farted alone
And the crowd was amazed at the sweetness of tone
They agreed with the judge, who said without pause
"First prize Mrs. Bulge, now pull up your draws!"
She advanced to the stand with a maidenly gait
And took from the vicar a lovely gold plate
Then she turned to the crowd and started to sing
While farting the first verse of "God Save the King"!