The Bloke Behind Me's Music Is Toss

The bloke behind me plays some toss
His music's utter shite
He says he's playing "bangin' choons"
But they're not even 'alright'

One minute he's got some 'jungle' on
Then some pap called 'trance'
The only place you should hear this shit
Is somewhere crap, like France

But then he'll put some 'ambient' on
It's weird and utter pish
It just sounds like the soundtrack to
A crap film about jellyfish

It's not music, it's a bag of piss
It's a bloody massive farce
His entire iTunes library belongs
Up his bloody massive arse

Crap Breakfast

There's a guy I know who eats
His daily breakfast on the toilet
Isn't that disgusting?
Having breakfast in the loo?
He takes his bacon buttie
And the Daily Whatever-You-Call-It
And sits there on the lavatory;
Eating, reading and having a poo.

Now I know this throws up questions
Of a quite diverse variety
Like "What about the awful smell?"
And "Where do the crumbs drop?"
But I just think it's sad
That we now live in a society
In which it's perfectly normal
To eat breakfast "on the plop"

Shit Haircut

I went to the barbers on Monday
On Goodge Street by Pizza Hut
I went in, sat down and daydreamed
Now I've got a shit haircut

It only cost me seven quid
But it's seven quid too much
The fact is I've paid seven quid
For hair like a badger's crotch

I said that I wouldn't whinge
And so, after this, I won't
But instead of a hair-do
I've got shit hair-don't

I Sit Next To A Dickhead

I sit next to a dickhead
When he speaks it's just confusing
The arsehole laughs at everything
Even stuff that's not amusing

It's like some weird disorder
He says 'Ha!' most of the day
Even if you tell him that
His cat just passed away

He mumbles, snorts and laughs and
Just repeats this all day long.
He's an alabaster retard
At best, a total fucking mong

One day I'll bring in Mr. T
Who'll say "hey fool!" and then,
He'll throw him off the balcony
See if the prick laughs then

Nosey Bastard

Hi, nosey bastard watching
As I type this poem out.
Carry on watching, ass-breath
And I'll give you such a clout

I'm leaving in a week now
And I'm running low on work
So I write this to amuse myself
Not you, you gormless berk.

Are you really that bored that
You've got to watch me type?
If I didn't need a reference
I'd give you such a massive swipe

So "sod off" nosey bastard
Leave my bloody screen alone
If you really have nowt else to do
Write some poems of your own

Batman vs. Darth Vader

Batman's fucking awesome
He wears black and he's a ninja
Darth Vader, he wears black as well
But he may as well be ginger

He's crap and he's a robot
He thinks Jedi's are fantastic
If Batman had ten minutes
He'd beat the crap out of that spastic

If A Song Was A Curry

Snow only had the one song
The rap odyssey 'Informer'
If that song was a curry
It would be a chicken korma

When not on drugs, Whitney sang;
'I Will Always Love You'
If that song was a curry
It would be a vindaloo

I once heard 'Pinball Wizard'
Sung by Joe 'The Fury' Noori
If that song was a curry
It would be a beef tandoori

E.F.I. Cry-day

If I hear Enrique Iglesias
Singing through my wall again
I'll give the twat an enema
With the tower housing Big Ben

If Enrique fucking Iglesias says
He can "be your hero, baby"
Throw the bastard in a pit
And release the dogs with rabies

Moany Bitch

I can tolerate a lot of things
But one thing I cannot stand
Is the moany bitch I work with
Jeez, she really makes me mad

Her voice; a verbal cheese-grater
Whinging as I drink my coffee
Her face is an exact match
For a half-chewed hairy toffee

Her constant whiney moaning
Sometimes makes me want to weep
Her constant, boring monotone
Induces narcoleptic sleep

My Friends

Two of my friends are Chelsea fans
But they really aren't all bad
One of them comes from Bolton
And the other's from Baghdad

They got married in Slovenia
Where the fish of Lake Bled swim
When Jonathan Ross gets a haircut
Does he say "I'm going for a twim"?

Guess Who?

He's big, he's bad, he's manly
He's the bravest of them all
He really is the greatest
If we're talking 'bout football

He drinks petrol for breakfast
He's the toughest guy in town
Don't mess with him; he's awesome
He's the mighty Michael Brown

'Cr-ouch'

I opened up the papers,
And all I said was "ouch"
Because I read the headline
Saying 'Spurs Sign Peter Crouch'

Even as a Tottenham fan
I never thought it'd come to this;
The day we build our team around
A seven-foot high streak of piss