Thetownend.com

"Does the Tef even matter any more?"
He asked with a cry and a roar!
Those washbag guys are doing well,
they support the same team, it's all swell.

But then they got cross,
we stole from them, like a bad Jonathon Ross.
Don't link their picture, link their page,
or they get grumpy like a man of old age.

They're jumped up fuckers, we have truckers,
and fans who are fans and girls. ( who are girls)
And Manatees, which is what you want to see,  you fuckers.

They don't get their advertising, which makes them cross.
I moderated here free of charge for years, with no advertising, that makes me Be.

Sherlock didn't know what to do,
they were friends of me,
and friends of you.
So with some glee,
he took his pen,
and wrote about Sherlock Manatee!

And there it was, the perfect crime,
Stefani Miglioranzi was covered in slime.
Where did it come from?
Probably from your bum,
He was quite a sexy player,
Like a south amarican,

He gave him up for dead,
Manatee's best friend Fred.
Fred was a squid, who'd lend you a quid, if you desperate.
He'd charge you interest.
Interest through listening to his stories.
Thirty episodes of a pub based Jackanory.

Fred didn't need no uptown funk,
He had his spiked up tentacles,
a squid like punk.
But he got all the luck,
A show man with his testicles,
Literally didn't give a fuck.
Blah blah blah testicles.

But then Fred had killed a man,
killed a man called Sam.
And Sherlock Manatee had to track him down,
Track him down to funky town.

Or was it a case of mistaken identity?
The only witness was Gary Stanley.
Was the squid a hero or atrocious,
maybe he'd turn out to be an Octopus.
Play me head burn scouts Toby! A magic Bus.

Pint of what he had please Landlord.

Find out next week on The Surprising Adventures of Me, Sir Digby Chicken Caesar.

Clearly, this thread has travelled back to that ancient/mythical time and age, 2006 A.D.

Toumani Diagouraga is a great name, sign him permenently.

Chris McPhee could do a job.

Ashan Holgate is the future, those dreads.

 The washbag must be green, not with that mould that accumulates if you neglect them, but envy that they can't inspire such writing....McGonagall would be proud.

There was going to be some sort if plot to my rhyme. But then I polished off the 2nd bottle of leftover Xmas port.

aah - you should have had some cheese as well; a beautiful nutty molten Brie on some delightful oat biscuits - feed the muse.

Someone buy fb some more port. We need his special brand of bollocks back here.