now’s found out. The bloke’s nowt but a silly old ass.
Whoever’s reposte to his host be a “Blimey!”
was born 'n' bred Brit. Take a look: he’s a Limey.
Whose lips, if rubb'd shoulders with, flip you a “Crap!”
must be firmly persuaded to zipper his yap.
Whose routine rejoinder’s a snappy “Dagnabbit!”’s
a cad. (The poor lad must be cured of this habit.)
Whose sole observation, when stump'd, is “Egad!”
shall be mark'd with a fatwa. He’s earn'd our jihad.
Who, topping your zinger, “Fie! Fiddlesticks!” cries
must be blackball'd. (He’s never been one of the guys.)
Whose tat for your tit is “Good Golly, Miss Molly!”
rates pokes in the eyes. Any less were sheer folly.
Who, swallowing goldfish, declares “Hoochie-mamma!”
must forfeit his dinner – with minimal drama.
From among whom soil'd nappies elicit an “Ick!”
novice nannies-elect we’re reluctant to pick.
Who, emptying slops, bleats a brash “Jordeloo!”
warrants quick castigation. (I would. So must you.)
Would that “Kusipää!”s (they’re Helsink’ese for ‘stinkers’)
should stick in their craws! (Aren't we all wishful thinkers?...)
Who -- prim Pollyannas -- purr “Lord love a duck!”
should be stifled – before the poor schmucks run amok.
Who delivers his “Merde!”s as rhetorical questions
should hush – unless you have far better suggestions...?
Who caps each exchange with a curt “Nenorocit!”*
needs choking – nor am I embarrass'd to broach it.
* Pronounced ‘ne no RO tjit’
Who opts for, too often, the “Odsbod’kins!” curse
should, instead, utter “Drat!” (Jeez! We’ve all heard much worse.)
Who will not put a sock in his “Poppycock!” talk
won’t be scrutinized walking the circumspect walk.
Who showboats his quiet, though quaint, “Quotha!” quip
has to cease and desist...and (Good Lord!) get a grip.
Who turns a blind eye – with a wry “Ruat caelum!” –
from immigrants’ plights cedes his rights of asylum.
Who stutters, with spittle, his twee little “Strewth!”
should be caned ‘cross the thigh – as was I in my youth.
Who mimics the pool boys with taunts of “Tu madre!”
must spend his off hours with a whole ‘nother cadre.
Who to not “Unberufen!” but “Up yours!” gives voice
shall be ask'd to recant. Give that boy Hobson’s choice.
Who comes out with a “Voertsak!” (he might be a Boer)
must admit that he’s now cross'd the line. This means war!
Whose word when he’s wrung out’s a wan “Wellaway!”
should just go – though he may be encouraged to stay.
Whose “xpletives,” although deleted, are foul
will continue to make us well-spoken folks howl.
Those blokes -- there are sev’ral – who sum up with “Yoiks!”
are – please let me be clear -- just a couple of joiks.
And lastly, who sounds his alarm with a “Zounds!”
makes his blasphemy barefaced. Foul language abounds!
Who opts for, too often, the “Odsbod’kins!” curse
should, instead, utter “Drat!” (Jeez! We’ve all heard much worse.)
Who will not put a sock in his “Poppycock!” talk
won’t be scrutinized walking the circumspect walk.
Who showboats his quiet, though quaint, “Quotha!” quip
has to cease and desist...and (Good Lord!) get a grip.
Who turns a blind eye – with a wry “Ruat caelum!” –
from immigrants’ plights cedes his rights of asylum.
Who stutters, with spittle, his twee little “Strewth!”
should be caned ‘cross the thigh – as was I in my youth.
Who mimics the pool boys with taunts of “Tu madre!”
must spend his off hours with a whole ‘nother cadre.
Who to not “Unberufen!” but “Up yours!” gives voice
shall be ask'd to recant. Give that boy Hobson’s choice.
Who comes out with a “Voertsak!” (he might be a Boer)
must admit that he’s now cross'd the line. This means war!
Whose word when he’s wrung out’s a wan “Wellaway!”
should just go – though he may be encouraged to stay.
Whose “xpletives,” although deleted, are foul
will continue to make us well-spoken folks howl.
Those blokes -- there are sev’ral – who sum up with “Yoiks!”
are – please let me be clear -- just a couple of joiks.
And lastly, who sounds his alarm with a “Zounds!”
makes his blasphemy barefaced. Foul language abounds!
No comments:
Post a Comment