* Laboratory is pronounced the British way, with the stress on the second syllable.

I tell of Doctor Jackal, he's a chemist and a quack;
He's into his laboratory the moment he gets back
From poking poorly patients and prescribing pills and potions,
And once ensconced he sets to work on scientific notions.

He's such a tiny pecker and he wants to make it grow,
So's mixed up many chemicals, and very soon he'll know,
If this, his latest lotion, bubbling with faint phosphorescence
Will cause his little willy to swell up in great tumescence.

He stands there in the sunset like some medieval druid,
And massages his member with the monstrous murky fluid.
It stings like it's been savaged by a score of curried nettles,
And scalded by the steaming soup from mulligatawny kettles.

But look, he beams with joy  through all the suffering and the pain:
It's swelled to near three inches, so the treatment's done again,
And after twenty dousings in this seething, stinking sauce,
It surely does compare with that on quite a tiny horse.

And optimistic, off he strolls, no longer so lugubrious,
To stalk the city streets in sectors squalid, insalubrious. 
To track down tarnished totty, who for ten bob and a tanner,*
might let him mash his mettle in that tried and tested manner.

Imagine poor old Jackal, in his great priapic pride,
Accosting crab-rid crumpet, for a contract-hire ride,
And let us hide, dear reader, by a spyhole, voyeuristic,
To see what will transpire: the lady's skills, though not artistic...

...Are adequate, as soon he'll find, as, entering her shanty,
She strips her shoddy garments, though in number they are scanty 
And he performs a likewise task, and there before her stands,
And she, in fascination, stares in wonder at his glans.

"Bejaysus" cried the Irish tart, "Bejabbers and begorrah."
That phosphorescent phallus fills my frazzled frame with   horror.
These streets I've been a-working forty years as all here knows,
But never have I seen a dong with luminescent nose."

And so he crept off homeward, in the depths of great despair,
But fear not, gentle reader, for we will not leave him there.
He travelled off to Paris, and through serendipitation,
That Madame Curie used him as a source of radiation.

*Ten bob = 10 shillings , and a tanner was 6 pence in old British currency, thus the fee was 10s 6d, or half a guinea in even older British currency.

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Last updated: Sunday, March 20, 2011