Flying low

Fly down

I was walking past a sex shop today when a brisk wind alerted me that my fly was down. I quickly turned to the wall (of the sex shop) to adjust it and turned back to make direct eye contact with a neighbour walking the other way.

Let’s just say…awkward.

Graham’s pet life


There was a little baby,
His parents called him Graham.
He had a mop of chestnut hair
And dimples that would slay ’em.

His parents taught him right from wrong
And how to say his prayers.
But that didn’t stay his hand that day
When he threw the cat right down the stairs.

He didn’t know that this was cruel
And cried when he realised.
So when the cat made to run away
He wasn’t quite surprised.

A tortoise was the recompense
And Tommy was his name.
And though Tommy didn’t play that much
Graham loved him just the same.

Tommy rather liked to sleep
And would stay snug in his shell.
So when some git stole the little guy
It was rather hard to tell.

When the pain had at long last passed
The family took in a dog.
Candy was a well-named beast
Since on doughnuts she would hog.

Graham tried to help the mite
And swapped the doughnut for jam tart.
But the harm had sadly now been done
And so stopped Candy’s heart.

After this his own was broken
And quite numbed through from grief.
He then swore he’d have pets no more
And pet-shops sighed back in relief.

Yet many years passed, and later
He took in two rescue cats.
They got love and care and dreamie treats
And hessian-tough scratching mats.

He loved those two sweet pussies
Who turned round and loved him back.
He doted on their every need
And put their lives right back on track.

And so the curse was lifted
And love filled a happy house.
The only soul here with something to fear
Was a timid little mouse.