There was an old maid from Bruton Who had the bad habit of pootin'. Her sphincter was weak, Her wind she couldn't keep--- This tootin' old spinster from Bruton. Send this poem to a friend 1 A stingy old man of St. Giles Saved his shillings with miserly wiles. Just to save a few bob He would wipe with a cob, And that way he got piles and piles! Send this poem to a friend 2 A fellow with love-making flair Was licking his sweetie "down there." He said, as some gas Escaped from her ass, "Thank God for a breath of fresh air!" Send this poem to a friend 3 When the Bermondsey bricklayers struck, Bill Bloggins was 'aving a fuck. By uni-on rules, He 'ad to down tools--- Now wasn't that bloddy 'ard luck! Send this poem to a friend 4 The life of a clerk of the session Was strangled in psychic repression. But his maladies ceased When his penis uncreased In straight geometric progression. Send this poem to a friend 5