The House Of CodA Poem by GeeMore silliness
No need to wear ya Sunday best
when ya come to the house of cod Cos here we worship fish'n'chips not the Lord almighty, God. The fryer ain't a balding man in sandals and a cassock he's a specialist with boiling oil cooking cod 'n' plaice and haddock. Whilst the sisters peeling spuds for chips ain't or never will be nuns, they'd flash their b***s for a lager top and for a vodka bare their buns. And me, my name is Harry Priest I'm not a religious man, but I feed the masses like J C but from my shop or mobile van. © 2020 GeeReviews
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20 Reviews Added on August 26, 2018 Last Updated on January 24, 2020 Tags: Fish chips fryer sister priest G AuthorGeeMilton keynes, United KingdomAboutDevoted family man and lover of life. Simply written, easily understood "stuff" for those without code breaking skills. You will NEVER need Google to understand me:) more..Writing
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