A Christmas poem;

Warning; this item is rude and could cause offence to at least one person in particular, hopefully.

Mr Fooking-Fook FFS!
Regulars who come to Geoff Says for a read and a look,
Will remember a man of whom I called Mr Fooking Fook,
He travels from Camborne to do all his car boot deals,
Not any more now, cos he aint got no chauffer and he aint got no wheels.

Cos he can’t drive so he relies on others to share,
His journeys like a taxi taking him car booting here there and pigging every-where,
Take me to Newquay I’ll load all my stock into yer car,
And here is a quid towards the petrol mate, we are not going that far?

His son in law did it for many years but alas no more,
Cos Mr Fook was and is becoming such a bore,
Moaning and a-groaning like a cow chewing grass,
Son in law tells him ‘you’re a pain in the effing arse’ (FFS)

I’m doing it no more, cos I work almost all day,
In Tesco’s, for my hard earned weekly and miserably low pay,
So don’t be so selfish you know I have done my very best,
And take some driving lessons you old bugger and pass your own test.

Then you can drive your bloody self to all the boot sales,
That’s once you’ve taken 4 tests with only three fails,
The grumpy old sod that you have become,
It’s well known that you’re a massive pain in the rec-tum. (Bum)

We all know Old Fooky will not find this so funny,
All CBC will miss is his pigging money,
Unless he drives himself each day from the start,
And not arrive late blaming others, like a boring old fart.

Goodbye Mr Fook unless you pass your 4th test,
And drive yourself everywhere just like the rest,
No more excuses and no more free trips,
Cos frankly Mr Fook you’re getting on our tits.

By moaning and groaning from here to St Blazey,
That you’re good looking son in law is effing bone lazy,
Tis you Mr Fook, get off your fat agnostic arse,
And keep taking the test from now till you pass.

And please lose some weight and don’t be so grumpy,
Then you’ll be fitter and slimmer for much more rumpy-pumpy,
Your bellies too large your trousers don’t fit,
And you’ve been acting like a sodding miserable old shit.

Your mates could all desert you-you grumpy old man,
Just ask your some of your friends like Jimmy, me and Posh Ann,
We all think Mr Fook you could look and do much better,
So get up off your butt, do all the above and become a go-getter.

With your own car you can come to any car boot,
And be independent so you then don’t give a fook,
Get your finger out ‘Fooky’ or you could be too late,
Cos your stock will become like you, boring and out of date.

So join the rest of us learn to become a car or van driver,
And not lay in bed all day plonking off and playing the skiver,
Get your own wheels mate and stop acting the twat,
By staying at home like a lazy old PRATT. FFS!

Geoff Says;
Would someone kindly read this to Mr Fooking FOOK?
Love you fooky!
Geoff
Revenge is so sweet after all these years of abuse ‘you old B’stard’ when at Truro you once verbally attacked me with typical Camborne language “When’s the fooking fook toilets fooking gonna fooking- fook open mate fer fook’s sake”?? “Cos I need a fooking crap FFS” That’s disgusting language to a pensioner FFS you foul mouthed sod!
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Truth to tell about Mr Fook is that he is a really decent and very likeable old blokie really, but I don’t think he has the confidence to drive anything other than people sodding mad and in particular his fine looking son in law round the bend so to speak. However he lives in Camborne (so what more could we expect) but he would really like to meet another trader so he can share a van, all for a quid a week FFS! Not effing likely, but he is good company, NOPE! All right then how about a quid fifty? Do you think he’s made of money? Nope!
Pps; the bit about the ‘fine of good looking son in law’ bit is most definitely and most definitely again not entirely true FFS”

Geoff
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I dedicate this to Marge whom I believe is related to Mr Fooking-Fook through drink!
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