Better Late Then Never!

Double Standards

We sat at a small, round table next to the stage.

It wobbled!

Our over-expensive drinks soon slopped and covered at least a third of it's surface.

It was obviously a ploy to get us, the customer, to buy more drinks.

As we sat there, I couldn't help noticing the tatty curtain that adorned the stage-front and stretched out a leg. Lifting the curtain with my foot,I discovered that no expense had been spared on the stage's construction.

Absolutely no expense whatsoever!

The stage was merely made up of pallets ... many stacks, piled five-high, of pallets placed next to each and covered with a planks.

It was then that I began to wonder just what kind of place Tom had brought me to.

When the lights dimmed ... well, everything went purple-ish ... the curtains (the main curtain, not the one hiding the pallets) I saw on stage a round plinth approximately five feet across.
Sticking out of it's centre, and disappearing up into the darkness beyond the cheap and tatty lighting, was a chrome pole.

"A pole dancing-club,Tom?", I said."You've brought me to a pole-dancing club?"

"Exotic entertainment is good for the soul", replied Tom as he sipped his drink.

"Oh God!", I sighed. "You know my wife will string me up by the crown jewels if she finds out about this, don't you?"

"Nonsense! It's part of our modern culture. Like ballet", said Tom and I knew he was being serious.

"You don't see ballet dancers dressed in nothing but a pair of tassels and a bit of cloth the size of a knotted piece of string!"

"Look" barked Tom. "Ballet dancers wear costumes that leave nothing ... NOTHING! ... to the imagination. And they charge you a fortune to watch 'em prancing about".

I did wonder at that point just what kind of ballet Tom had been frequenting.

"Anyway", Tom went on. "I got the tickets for nothing, so stop complaining!"

The music started.

"Why do they dance around a pole?" I wondered aloud.

"It's exotic! And it's wossname ... phallic!" said Tom. "That mean's it's supposed to represent a .... ".

"I know what it means".

Sqea-ea-ea-eeeeeeeeeak!

I stared at the pole as a pair of legs started to appear out of the darkness at the top of the pole.

"It's rusty at the bottom! Not very 'phallic' that, is it? I'm pretty damned sure that mine, despite my age, isn't going to rust!"

"Shuddupdhuddupdhuddup!"

Sqea-ea-ea-eeeeeeeeeak!

A backside had slid into sight.

"Look at that ar...."

"Orange peel!" I said.

"What?"

"Orange peel! That's what her backside reminds me of.  's all those dimply things. Whoa! Paunch!"

Sqea-ea-ea-eeeeeeeeeak!

The slithering figure on the pole had descended half way revealing stretch marks and an abundance of, for want of a better description, relaxed stomach muscles.

"Ah!" said Tom.

"Not what you expected, Tom?"

"No ... yes ... no!"

Sqea-ea-ea-eeeeeeeeeak!

The upper torso was now came into view as the dancer's feet hit the floor.

"Let's get out of here!" Tom said, standing up.

I glanced one more time at the red-headed, middle-aged woman that was now squeaking and pouting as she began to gyrate, bump and grind around the rusty pole,than I followed Tom to the exit.

"What's up Tom?" I called as I chased him. "Where're you going?"

"Out!" he cried.

On the street Tom turned to me and said "That was Brenda! The woman from the corner shop!"

He looked shocked!

"I'll never be able to buy my newspapers in that shop ever again!"

"I thought you liked Brenda"

"Are you kidding? Look what she does for a hobby!"

Christmas: How It Is And Always Will Be!

It's that time of year and we've spent our hard earned cash,

on cards and presents and a good Christmas bash.

We'll all get presents that will force us to smile,

and the gift that you wanted will be missed by mile.

There'll be books, chocolate underwear and socks,

just the usual gifts but no great shocks.

Then food galore will be dumped on the table,

and we'll gorge ourselves till we're no longer able.

There will be burps and farts and occasional snore,

until all we ate settles then we go back for more.

We'll sit around the TV and watch the Queen's speech,

and get the usual guest that hangs on like a leech.

When the evening comes there's more food to eat,

at least for those that can still find their feet.

For the sherry has flowed and beer has been drunked*,

for the oldies some tea in which biscuits are dunked.

We'll all sing some hits of a bygone era,

and remember those absent, like my cousin Vera.

Then off the guests go to their own little homes,

waddling merrily like drunken garden gnomes.

The washing up and the mess that they made,

unwashed and untouched in the dining room stayed.

Then it's off to bed feeling ever so stuffed,

my amorous advances ignored and rebuffed!


* artistic license 

  

Why Are Men Here? Remind Me ....

Christmas Day Comes Earlier and Earlier

I know this is a little premature, but if I don't do it now I'll probably forget.

(Originally posted on TOP last year)

Christmas Day

It's Christmas time
 a time of cheer,
for presents and food
 and dad drinkin' beer.

Broken new toys,
 wrapping paper still on the floor,
a visit from those neighbours,
 the ones you don't like anymore.

Mum in the kitchen,
 strugglin' with the lunch,
trying to prepare food,
 for the whole bleedin' bunch.

Dad's on the bog,
 with a can of Newkie Brown,
lukkin at his Sun calender,
 n he don't mind that it's upside down.

The 'outlaws' arrive,
 around about two,
and all they can do,
 is complain about you.

At the table it's said,
 the turkey is dry,
the sprouts are too soft,
 and you just want to cry.

Then back to the telly,
 to see the Queen,
cos she speaks the bestest
 english what's ever been.

Around about six,
 there's more food on the table,
and we all start eating
 as much as we're able.

later on,
 lunch time sprouts play their part,
as adults sip wine
 and secretly fart.

Over at last,
 you sip your brandy
n tell your ol' man
 forget bein' randy!

Off to bed,
 straight to sleep,
all that hard work,
 and not one 'thank you' peep.