MY LITTLE BROTHER HAS CANCER

It’s been a really poignant and emotional week with the fat fooker. He has lost something that’s been a part of both our lives since we were kids.....His Arsehole...Yes memories from our childhood...when he would shit in the bath, and ask mum why she had got brown soap....Then his teenage years when he would throw his skiddlies up to the ceiling and if they came down he would put them on and if they stuck he would  get a clean pair.....Then into adult when he would stop at the 9^th tee on Springfield park  where he would always stop and squeeze a steamer out behind the big tree there, and wipe his arse on a dock leaf.....so many memories.......And we drove home in an eerie silence from Christies I’m sure we both were reliving these memories.....A tear filled my eye and I had to have some respite from my sad thoughts and my finger slowly turned the radio on ....the song  was Where Do You Go To My Lovely...by  Peter Sarstedt.....and I found myself gently singing the lyrics..and thinking of my bottomless brother next to me.......I would like to share them with you all

You have a bag from your belly..And you fill it 7 times a week

Your clothes are all made of polythene In case you get a slight leak. Yes they are!!

You live in a fancy apartment. With En suite every room,

Where you would sit for hours on your toilet that you used to call the log flume, yes you do.

But where do you go now, fat fooker

When you wanting to smear the bowl

Cos I cannot really see any reason.

Now you have not got an arse hole. No you’ve not

You went to Christies on Friday..And they have taken your entire crack

But you are really inventive, fat boy ..It makes a lovely toast rack..Yes it does

I have seen the prognosis from Christies..From your consultant Mustapha Lukatfatti

And he said you won’t poo any meatballs...More like duck liver pate...yes he did

But where do you go now fat fooker

When you want to park the brown sedan

Now it all comes from out of your belly

There’s no need to go to the can..No there’s not

I am putting your toilet on eBay...Its size..Triple xxx

With a towel holder thrown in for good measure..And an half used roll of Andrex..Yes I have

Remember the back alleys of Heywood..Where you have taken many a drunken dump

Well you don’t have to hide now fat bro..Cos you no longer have any rump...no you don’t

And when you go on your summer vacation ...At de hotel Cala Gran

And don’t pop the bag on a pebble..And get a lovely false tan..On your legs and on your back...

But where do you go to fat fooker

Because me..It really does confound...

And tell me if you’re gonna fart fat boy

Because  I do not want to be around..........na,na,,aa,na,na,na,na,na,na,na,na,na,na,