Gary's Mission

 Gary was trying,

Christ was he trying!

Trying in a way, that a

Determined, resolute front line

Squadron would be proud of,

To stick his old chap

Up his bird’s arse.

Hah! But she

Weren’t having none of it.

No way,

No f*****g way

No chance Gal, hah!

You see,

Her mate had told her

That if she let him

Then she’s pass out!

Yep! She’d pass out if he

Stuck his willy,

In her little brown s**t box.

 

So,

After what seemed like

Several decades of

Persisting and suggestion,

Wooing and cooing

Booing and shooing,

He finally got his wish.

Under a white ivory moon

That lit up the constellations

Like a huge celestial beacon

She finally agreed to try it.

And after eight Barcadi’s and coke

On a hot, humid, tropical night

The heat, sweat and hover flies

Enchanted her like a lullaby

And Gary got his wicked way.

His sordid, lubricated, anal way.

And do you know what happened

On that hot, sticky, KY evening?

He put it up her arse

And the poor girl passed out!