Another one that is not for minors - at all - do beware of this, folks. Now It may seem hooey, but it isn't; this was actually written to test the meter / the beat, the theme was actually secondary when being constructed. But nevertheless - this is a comic yet very rude poem. In all honesty, compared with what's in books, on many sites like this and on the box these days, or put another way - in the great order of things - this is a big nothing, but, for what it's worth, it is still adult humour and it's only fair to point that out. You've been warned, as the saying goes. . . Although born and brought up as Big Billy, I did secretly wish to be Milly. So despite feeling silly, I called Doctor Crilly, Who brought round a scalpel, And cut off my willy. So then I was minus my dick, Which I gave to our mongrel named Mick. He was ever so slick, with the ladies so quick; They queued up at the gate, so he just took his pick. The wife said to our neighbour, Flo Podger, “Oh, Flo, he has cut off his todja!†“He’s cut off his todja?! The stupid old codger! Then I strongly advise that you take in a lodger!†I met with my friend, Joey Mudger, Who soon heard the tale of my nudger. “You stupid old bludger! Oh, dear me, how cud’ja?! You’d best see a shrink; Why not try ole Doc Fudger?†Our new lodger arrived, Johnny Mackle, Who schmoozed up to my wife like a jackal, Which did raise my hackle, but then I did cackle, As I kicked him so hard in his old wedding tackle. The next lodger arrived, Sexy Bob, Who was famed for the girth of his Knob. So some bricks I did rob, to make his knob throb, And what’s worse, he has now lost his job. Next chancer was Long-Willied Reg, Who was famed for his meat and two veg’. I took wood off a ledge, put his balls in a wedge; Now Reg’s not so proud of his veg’. Meanwhile Mick was up to his tricks; He was at it from noon until six. He’d show ‘em his moves, he’d show ‘em his licks; Mick, the proverbial dog with two dicks. On the psychiatrist’s door I did knock, And I told him the tale of my cock. He did reel and did rock As he went into shock, And dismissed me by shouting, “Just go buy a frock!†Which made me feel even more silly, At the voluntary loss of my willy, But good ole Doc Crilly, Didn’t dally nor dilly, And promised to help me once more become Billy. But our Mick he does not miss a trick; He saw me and Doc Crilly so thick. With an athlete’s kick, he was ever so quick; He shot straight out the door right along with my dick. But I never did get back my member, ‘Though we searched for our Mick all September. So all men they should make a grave promise, To look after their good old John Thomas. I guess what I mean is, hold on to your Penis. And don’t be so thick as to sever your prick!