Wednesday, 26 August 2009
GEORGINA - A story to give hope to the most desperate of parents
Was, truly, a disgusting child.
Despite her parents' upper class
She revelled in the sick and crass.
Georgina would take such delight,
On Daddy's Golf Club's 'Supper Night',
At anything - name what you will -
That made her Parents' guests feel ill.
By far her favourite party trick
Was spouting terms for being sick.
Like "Throwing chunks" or "Heaving Puss"
Or "Driving the porcelain bus"
Or there was "Multi-coloured cough" -
Oh, how she loved to reel them off!
Her parents, fearful of their standing,
Expelled their daughter to the landing.
Alas, it never did much good.
She'd fart as loudly as she could,
Then snigger as the stairs would carry
Her rear-trumpet voluntary -
Reverberating loud and clear,
So everyone downstairs could hear.
Then she would scream and pull her hair.
She drove her poor folks to despair!
Concerned she'd never find a man;
Their fears grew worse when she met Stan.
Although her parents nearly tried
They could not help be horrified.
For Stanley Fotherhithe McShoe
Was not a pleasant thing to view.
Appearances - a minus three,
At birth, fell from the Ugly tree,
Hit every branch on his way down -
Hence Stanley's constipated frown.
A greasy, unattractive yob,
Stan was a sixty carat slob,
Who found it rather hard to speak,
With hoof implanted up his beak.
You could have said Stan was unique.
A one ... no ... two off, so to speak.
Stan's brain had just two cells, you see,
A truly challenged soul was he.
But two cells suited him just right ...
One for the left leg, one for right.
T'was all he'd need to get about
And ... prayed his folks ... to get him out!
Stan had his favourite doggie - Snot,
A scabby mutt that stank like rot.
He followed Stanley everywhere,
Yes, even to the 'you-know-where'!
'T'was here they played Stan's favourite game,
Stan wasn't given much to sport -
He was not the athletic sort.
His only claim to victory
Was in the distance he could wee.
Why, he could score from five feet dead!
(Unless blocked by his doggie's head).
One always knew when Snot had lost -
His spiky bonce betrayed his cost.
Now, Stanley's folks did not agree
With antics in the lavat'ry,
So, if Stan missed (the rotten cheat)
And tinkled on the toilet seat,
He'd lie and blame it on poor Snot
"'Avin' a jrink ... cuz 'e wuz 'ot".
But Snot's revenge was better still,
He'd pooh in Stanley's Mummy's Dill.
Mummy's herbs were sacrosanct,
But after Snot, they 'sacro-stanked'!
Then Snot would blithely eat his food,
While Stanley got his ear-holes chewed.
Oh, Boy! The tales that I could tell
About this individual!
But one thing that was crystal clear,
Was his effect on 'Georgie-Dear'.
She met Stan in the grocer's shop.
Her eyes did glaze. Her jaw went 'Plop!'.
To notice him was not that hard ...
Fly-swatting with a block of lard.
Georgina didn't seem to care
That, once swat, he just left them there -
Wee leggies thrashing two and fro
And struggling like billy-ho.
They had the most amazing time,
When Stanley took her out to dine.
Stan took her to his favourite place -
A grubby 'caff' called "Stuff-yer-face".
The black bits in the Steak Chasseur
Looked very much like rats' manure.
They would have had "Dish-de-la-house"
But for the smell of gamey mouse.
Georgina found it rather sweet
Stan laid his hanky on her seat.
The hanky - neither clean nor pressed -
When she arose, stuck to her dress.
She didn't even seem to mind
That it glued fast to her behind.
Such details didn't bother her,
She'd found what she'd been searching for.
Yes, giving credit where it's due,
Stan was romantic through and through.
When he proposed, he didn't botch,
(Though spurred on by a quart of Scotch)
And down upon one knee he slumped,
Right in the place where Snot had 'dumped'.
Proposals are a tricky job,
But moreso caked in doggie-'bob'.
Preoccupied with doggie mess,
He didn't hear her answer "Yes".
"Oh, Yes! My love" she did repeat ...
Too late ... he threw up on her feet.
The wedding was a posh affair
And everybody 'In' was there;
With Lord and Lady Wotsisface,
And "Have some more champagne, Your Grace",
And Baroness de Oojiflip
And every courtesy and quip.
Oh, yes. The parents of the bride
Had really, really, REALLY tried -
They'd even laughed at Stanley's joke -
'T'was such a shame - poor Daddy's stroke.
His heart attack was not induced
Until the happy pair produced -
A bonny, bouncing baby girl.
Fresh of face and blond of curl.
But how on earth would this child fare
Considering parental care?
'T'was then the couple thought about
Just how their offspring would turn out ...
You really could expect the worst,
Unless you read on through this verse ...
For transformation then occurred,
Starting with homemade Lemon Curd,
Then, every Sunday, half past three,
The vicar would come round for tea,
Then Coffee Mornings; Bring-and-Buy;
Her Mummy was so proud, she'd cry.
You'd never dream - whoever could? -
What she was like in her childhood.
So, parents all, take comfort, do.
You've done the best that you can do.
Don't end up haggard, grey and lined.
The next time that you feel inclined
To frown upon them in dismay ...
RELAX!!! ... They'll turn out fine ... One day!!