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  • Mental Ramblings

Bowel Cancer Brown

Bowel Cancer Brown

The man about town

With never a frown

But he's not a clown

See this is the shit

That comes when you rhyme

And I don't like it

So this is the last time

Bowel Cancer Brown

Starting to sound like the stranglers

But the only constriction is on his anus

Or it would be if he had bowel cancer

But he doesn't

But if he did, that would be the colour his hair was

Dark brown with a hint of red

Other than that he is quite unremarkable

And not really deserving of a poem about him

And I'm starting a line with 'and' once again

But fuck you I can do what I want

He doesn't know I call him Bowel Cancer Brown

His surname isn't even Brown

But he is an arsehole

So let's bring this back round

To Bowel Cancer Brown

Which isn't his name

But that's all part of the poetry game

In essence he's a prick

But this nickname won't stick

Cos I've never mentioned it to anyone

Which makes me a moron

He's a forgettable bastard

And this crap only lasted

Because of the colour of his hair

I think I'll leave it there

I rhymed when I wanted

And didn't when I didnae

If it don't get his bowels

Let's hope it's his kidney

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Happy Wednesday, I've just rewatched Endgame and it occurred to me what it might be like for the Hulk to jizz on Tilda Swinton's bald head, maybe a bit like pouring custard on a sticky toffee pudding


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