The long drive home
I'm on the M1 and it's a quarter to three,
I'm heading Northbound and me bladders telling me,
"If yer don't stop soon, I'll make your eyes roll - see,
Coz I'm gettin' overloaded and soon you'll be wantin' to pee".
So I travelled some more and saw "Services 5 Mile",
Thought to meself happily, "Ah I can stop fer-a-while",
To relieve me poor bladder of that liquid; sterile,
When all of a sudden me face was wiped of that smile.
What smile you might ask?, "Well the one of relief",
Knowing I'd soon be somewhere to rid me of grief,
That could happen to me if I were stuck in a jam,
And tying a knot in it as tho' I were built like a ram.
But it happened so quick like a bolt out of the blue,
I hit this bloody jam and I then started to queue,
"Tail End Charlie", became me new bloody name,
And soon became others when they were stuck in the same.
Me mind started to wander thinkin' "What can I do",
Me bladder kept saying "I'm gonna keep pesterin' you,
Coz if I don't see any possible way of relievin',
This sack-fulla-pee then I'll make you start grievin'".
Oh NO!, was me thought as I played wiv-me-knackers,
As tho' they were designed to be used like maracas,
Other drivers onlooking, as tho' I was nuts,
Moving about, to make more room in me guts.
Well it's bloody freezin', on this cold winters day,
I daren't open the window to get fresh air to alay,
This sack fulla-pee that I'm now startin' to curse,
Coz if they get any colder, will only makes matters worse.
So I turn up the heating and me car's like a cooker,
Peekin' around to see if any onlooker,
Is starin' at me while I search fer-a-bottle,
Whilst doin' so, I keep jerkin' the throttle.
If I keep on like this, then I'll be up someones arse,
Not literally I might add, that would be a farce,
So I ease off a bit to gimme some space,
When other sods in the middle lane, move into the place.
Well now I'm sqigglin', wrigglin', jerkin' and squirmin',
Me bladder so full, me bum is now wormin',
Its way round the seat, so I turn up the "RAP",
To try and get meself out-o'-this trap.
People keep starin' as tho' I am a nutter,
Then a bright idea came over me - pull into the gutter,
But there ain't no gutter, so use the hard shoulder instead,
When on the outside lane, this easier done than said.
Well I'm jumpin' around, out of time wiv-the-bop,
Desparate to relieve me bladder of pop,
I gradually pull over to the side ~hop by hop~,
And get to the point where I can now stop.
Well I shot out of me car like a bolt out of the blue,
Left the car engine running and the door open too,
When the coppers pull up and take a look round my car,
They say "This is takin' matters to far".
I appear out of the hedgerow relieved of my ton,
When the coppers come over and say "Hmm, engines left on,
This is not good, it's certainly not cricket",
And ended up, with me gettin' a bloody ticket.
Well I rejoined the queue and cursed at my bladder,
The day couldn't have ended very much sadder,
Now my willy's no longer throbbing, but like a damp squid,
It ended up costing me, forty bloody quid.
Well I finally got home at about half past eight,
Parked up in the drive and walked thro' the gate,
I told my missus of why I was late,
We laughed, then big ~willy~, proved he was great!