Dear Mr Fisher
The somewhat remarkable ditty, "Mr Fisher" was devised by an unknown pupil from S1 and went something like this:
Dear Mr Fisher,
I was feeling pretty canny,
I tried to fuck your daughter,
But I couldnt find her fanny!
When I found her fanny,
It was hairy as a sock.
Dear Mr Fisher,
I couldn't find my cock!
When I found my cock,
It was hairy, long, and thin,
Dear Mr Fisher,
I couldn't get it in!
When I got it in,
I wiggled it about,
Dear Mr Fisher,
I couldn't get it out!
The true conundrum lies with the subtext. Initially it seems that the author is boasting of his sexual adventures, but maintaining a respectful distance by addressing the recipient as "Mr Fisher". However, this rapidly declines into a litany of sexual dysfunction. Perhaps the author is requesting assistance or even the physical presence of Mr Fisher, to see what the actual problem is.
More importantly to the boys, this raised the hither unforseen concern that 'it' could get 'stuck' 'in there', and no amount of wriggling could get it out.
Dear Mr Fisher,
I was feeling pretty canny,
I tried to fuck your daughter,
But I couldnt find her fanny!
When I found her fanny,
It was hairy as a sock.
Dear Mr Fisher,
I couldn't find my cock!
When I found my cock,
It was hairy, long, and thin,
Dear Mr Fisher,
I couldn't get it in!
When I got it in,
I wiggled it about,
Dear Mr Fisher,
I couldn't get it out!
The true conundrum lies with the subtext. Initially it seems that the author is boasting of his sexual adventures, but maintaining a respectful distance by addressing the recipient as "Mr Fisher". However, this rapidly declines into a litany of sexual dysfunction. Perhaps the author is requesting assistance or even the physical presence of Mr Fisher, to see what the actual problem is.
More importantly to the boys, this raised the hither unforseen concern that 'it' could get 'stuck' 'in there', and no amount of wriggling could get it out.
written by Sp*sti* Spid*r, approved by Mansh
Down in the valley where nobody goes
There sits *insert name here* without any clothes
Along comes *insert name here* thick as a brick
Down comes his trousers and out comes his prick
He fucked her till her tits turned blue
His prick was black as charcoal
When it got dark he missed his mark
And rammed it up her arsehole.
There sits *insert name here* without any clothes
Along comes *insert name here* thick as a brick
Down comes his trousers and out comes his prick
He fucked her till her tits turned blue
His prick was black as charcoal
When it got dark he missed his mark
And rammed it up her arsehole.
written by sp*ce mo*key, approved by Mansh
Hello Mrs Murphy
How's your heart and soul
I tried to ride your daughter
I couldn't find her hole
At last I found her hole
Covered by her frock
For fuck's sake Mrs Murphy
I couldn't find my cock.
At last I found my cock
as straight as a pin
For fuck's sake Mrs Murphy
I couldn't get it in
At last I got it in
And waved it all about
Fot fuck's sake Mrs Murphy
I couldn't get it out.
At last I got it out
All sloppy and sore
For fuck's sake Mrs Murphy
your daughter wanted more.
This is kinder to the daughter than the original, giving her a nice frock instead of a hairy fanny, and enquiring into the "heart and soul" of Mrs Murphy before regaling her with the tale of fumbling, wild-eyed sex with her daughter.
It also enjoys a certain level of exasperation with the voraciousness of Mrs Murphy's daughter, who seems unsatisfied with someone sticking it in, panicking, and pulling it out again.
How's your heart and soul
I tried to ride your daughter
I couldn't find her hole
At last I found her hole
Covered by her frock
For fuck's sake Mrs Murphy
I couldn't find my cock.
At last I found my cock
as straight as a pin
For fuck's sake Mrs Murphy
I couldn't get it in
At last I got it in
And waved it all about
Fot fuck's sake Mrs Murphy
I couldn't get it out.
At last I got it out
All sloppy and sore
For fuck's sake Mrs Murphy
your daughter wanted more.
This is kinder to the daughter than the original, giving her a nice frock instead of a hairy fanny, and enquiring into the "heart and soul" of Mrs Murphy before regaling her with the tale of fumbling, wild-eyed sex with her daughter.
It also enjoys a certain level of exasperation with the voraciousness of Mrs Murphy's daughter, who seems unsatisfied with someone sticking it in, panicking, and pulling it out again.
written by an*ny*ous*us*r, approved by Log