Friday, 13 February 2026


                           

                Ironically, on Valentine's Day 21 years ago, my awry Fate sent me a sperm donor who became the father of my two younger children.   

Several people have asked me where my rhyming satire Wow! inspired by him has gone. 

     As many of you know, I therapeutically wrote it in late 2019 when I was literally floored with depression, shock and ire for months after a deluge of realizations that the father of my younger two children, mentioned in the campaigning material here, to me a known sperm donor who I later learnt, I strongly believe, wanted to only use the arena for megalomaniac aims of using his unaccountable, globally powerful connections to put as many of his hand-picked children into top global and mega lucrative positions that many of his family seamlessly slide into,I believe, for his superlative offspring to rule over peasants. It is an elitist trend the magnitude of which is dawning upon us all only now and that seems to be totally intractable.

He and,I believe, his WHO executive brother, and maybe even other of his family grandees of the world's top organization boardrooms may have also taken part in the eugenics while, I believe, may have been rejecting his children who he, or them too, deem to be their inferiors and the plan was meant to remain strictly under wraps.

But also, the daddy, whom I call Dr High-Wine in my long rhyming narrative, I understand, has been sleeping with all the mothers on his rotational visits to their chosen little people, including some ostensible lesbians. The dispensational method of maybe getting their brood into the world's glory was also meant to, understandably, remain ultra secret. Some of them, I understand, willfully agreed to it, stabbing their partners/husbands in the backs along the way, and some may have been tricked. A few declined. The others were binned as worthless.

The scope of his duplicity, artifice and cruelty towards my children and me, and those others he's deceived into life-changing decisions they never consented to, as this is not sperm donation but something like some snobbish, megalomaniac sex sect, is something I am still hugely wrestling with. The scope of unanswered questions, contrary to our agreement that Valentine's Day of 2005,is mental torment.

The fictional poem I wrote 6 years ago now sounds prescient given the level of promiscuity, deviancy, mendacity, corruption, nepotism, thirst for power and money, and mistreatment of ordinary people by the elite underclasses that has surfaced of late. Years ago, the poem was read on another blog by over 15000 academics and journalists. I bet that not many of Dr High-Wine's hundreds of hot romances rhymed about his prowess, so he may not have minded the privilege of being a Muse that I bestowed on him.

While the poem is fiction that is meant to entertain, the underlying currents of pathological classism and clandestine subjugation of others designated for taking advantage of also mirrors what is done to us without us even noticing much and how the greedy in power readily,and without any qualms,push us under the bus so that their own children and themselves get into riches and power of enormous proportions in any unsavoury way they can. 

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.



                             Wow! Wow! What do we do now? 

 

 

Mum1:            Wow! Wow! What do we do now? 

Dr H-W:            We are sat here this evil off to fend. 

Mum9:             Just shame all chosen sisters today cannot attend. 

Dr H-W:             We've sadly been hit by abrupt cessation 

                              Of our impervious, covert operation, 

                              Thanks to a couple of fluky omissions 

                              Ruining my Genghis Khan ambitions. 

                        It is crushing that my lewd regimes       

                         Are being confined to archive lives, 

                         And alongside them my lifelong dreams 

                         Of hundreds of children by dozens of wives. 

Mum27:          I am puffing and fuming...I thought you were clever, 

                        You know that this was meant to stay secret forever! 

Dr H-W:            My profuse sorrow I've failed to stay numb... 

Mum1:              And blabbed us away...Can one be THAT dumb? 

Dr H-W:            I am so sorry, I did not mean to brag, 

                        But mind goes berserk after a good s..g 

Uncle H-W:      I thought that our secret was ferociously guarded 

                       Never prone to find its way straight to the discarded. 

Mum 15:          I apologize, but I am a proud snob, 

                       And cannot imagine... (sniffle, sniffle, sob) 

Mum7:              Neither can I.I feel hunted and pursued, 

                        With overwhelming need to protect my brood. 

Uncle H-W:      The High-Wine family dice has been cast, 

                        The "lets-pretend-we-care" stance to assume we must. 

Mum55:           But I don't want to mingle and before them cower,

                        They are undeserving of the High-Wine power.

Mum19:            To pretend we care, we have to start now! 

Mum4:               Sorry, that is something I struggle to allow! 

Dr H-W:              The High-Wine reputation will falter and break.  

                          Don't you understand, too much is at stake! 

Uncle H-W:        Believe me I so wish we'd continue the snubs, 

                          But those are all somehow threatening WHO's cubs? 

Mum36:              Oh, no! But yes...humanitarian façade! 

                         We have to pretend that there is no bad blood. 

Dr H-W:              Wow! Wow! What do we do now? 

Mum64:             How do we survive unhealthy duration 

                         Of this unjust reorientation? 

Mum55:              End of the world as we know is nigh! 

Mum1:                I don't need reminding...Oh my! Oh my! 

Dr H-W:               I'm a stoic man, but this all is sheer... 

Mum4:                 Living nightmare! 

Mum12:               Oh, dear! Oh, dear!     

Mum36:               The eugenics expertise they'll never comprehend 

                           Of an overzealous woodpecker from the lower end. 

Mum55:              They've antagonized each of my sinew 

                          And made every muscle in my body tense. 

Mum7:                 They've caused this tautness of breath to accrue 

                         And made all the trauma painfully immense. 

Mum9:                And to me, daily, right in this drives 

                           A deluge of rashes, skippies and hives. 

Dr H-W:               With all the tension, I've felt my brain spinning, 

                            At times I'd get limp and even crossed-eyed, 

                            I could even feel my mane of hair thinning,  

                            And to fix my eyes almost have I tried. 

                            All the grisly aftermath of so-called "donation", 

                            Has enveloped my life with exasperation.

Uncle H-W:         It's axiomatic for a common sense 

                          That their demands are clearly pathetic. 

Dr H-W:               All we need to do is put on pretense 

                           That being in their company is copasetic. 

Mum27:                Believe you me, this lady's not for turning 

                            As the thought of them gets my stomach churning! 

Uncle H-W:          As a global expert, I expertly say, 

                            This level of stress is not fit for consumption. 

Dr H-W:                Ever since the bombshell I've lived in dismay 

                           Terrified of life and its new resumption.   

Uncle H-W:          With every twig and branch, I can guarantee. 

                           They will have NO place on MY family tree! 

Mum64:             Wow! Wow! What can we do now? 

Mum12:             Us the obsequious may just slump then crumble.  

Dr H-W:              And my libidinous prowess subside then break. 

Mum4:                Oh, human Deity, please do never stumble, 

                          But stand up all tall, for heaven’s sake! 

Dr H-W:               Oh, my girly girls, great glory gallops to you, 

                            Whenever a wave of lust fills my thoughts. 

                            It's excruciating with one rod to woo you, 

                            And pick just one grape in bunches of all sorts. 

                            Oh, my Supreme me and his wisdom arise! 

                            Blessed by all my servants up there in the skies. 

Mum64:               The unchosen can't expect unjust conversion 

                            Of our lifestyle into their slums 

                            Of limited vistas and the aversion 

                            That encompasses us - the chosen mums.   

Mum19:                I'm sure you took great care 

                           Of their congenital demise. 

Dr H-W:                Yes, yours were to be children 

                            And theirs sexercise. 

                             I always made sure all the bond was torn 

                             Between me and that heap of spawn.   

                             We would sometimes chat, just for the pun,  

                             Then I'd cut them short and away I'd run. 

Mum36:                Oh, my runny honey, I always knew 

                             That you'd never place them with us on the par, 

                             But even I never had a clue 

                             How circumspect and sensible you are.   

Mum83:                You clearly know we can never fit with 

                             The unrefined and the à la  bimbo, 

                             We bona faide ladies who’ve kept for you 

                             Our mouths, hands and legs akimbo.            

 Mum1:                 The essence of being is power that's rife 

                             With love nurturing forces that coalesce, 

                             All subtlety of vigour that is called life, 

                             But love isn't love without finesse.                

Mum9:                  I so want to wake up from the terrors of all this, 

                           And reminisce glorious timeswhen we lived in bliss. 

Dr H-W:                 I am also prompting myself to believe 

                            The kind of lives our poor angels from now must live. 

Mum55:                Our joy de vivre they will occupy, 

                            Then linger on just like a bad smell. 

Mum4:                   Oh, non-existent Lord, to save us just try 

                             From his ever-scorching crucible of hell! 

Dr H-W:              They will commence our soul grandeur a drought, 

                            And conflate your charm with their disaster,                     

                                While tainting your flairs of referenced clout 

                            And capabilities they can never master. 

Uncle H-W:          And where will all this ultimately lead, 

                            With us being saddled with people we don't need? 

Dr H-W:                It'll lead to chagrin and health affliction 

                            Of perpetual mourning and tragic ruination 

                            Of our old life then arduous friction 

                            With indelible stigma of association. 

Mum36:               No matter how hard we try, we'll never disguise 

                           Meaning of the legal term "joint enterprise".    

Mum12:              Yes, it is a stigma! 

Mum1:                Tragedy! 

Uncle H-W:         A crime!     

Dr H-W:               It’s like being flooded with mountains of slime. 

Mum7:                Slime that's sticky and gaggingly reeks 

                          Ounwadable manure that stinks on for weeks. 

Mum64:             They'll put us through shamemisery and strife. 

Mum1:               We'll wallow in missing our in flagrante life.      

Mum19:             They don't even know what that word means. 

Dr H-W:              That's one of the symptoms of inferior genes. 

Mum1:                And how does one call such medical bother? 

Uncle H-W:        It's Non-communicable Geney Disorder. 

Mum4:                  Phew! Good you're unequivocal 

                            And certain it's a "non"? 

                            I’d dread to lose my eloquence, 

                            Gentry and bon ton. 

Mum83:               So, how are we going with them to converse? 

Uncle H-W:         Simple words, then some hands, in pretense immerse. 

Mum9:                    Oh, faithful accomplice, teach us how to pick 

                            Best humanitarian stratagem and trick. 

 Uncle H-W:         You just smile, distort, convolute and flatter, 

                            Always act you care, yet truth's another matter.   

Dr H-W:                You can blindly honour vows of our pact, 

                            Yet for the audience, keep gravitas intact. 

Uncle H-W:          And no obvious scorn, no visible taunt, 

                            Apocryphal decorum is the face we want. 

Mum55:                Ahh…Good we have this chance to play by the books 

                            Of global health experts, as easy as it looks.  

Mum7:                  The garden of our love and happiness will wither 

                            When them with their coarseness soon into it slither. 

Mum9:                 (sob, sob) Our joy has been marred, 

                            After a decade of working so hard! 

                            We've never faltered on our missions... 

Dr H-W:              mmm...And I remember all the positions. 

Mum7:              We've toiled on our backs, knees and our hands

                         So that our children one day rule the lands

                          As the gravy train of henchmenship won't stop 

                          Perched above the plebs and the world atop.

Mum36:              I've been a good mum and an even better rider. 


Dr H-W:               And I've been more cunning that Mary Howitt's spider. 

                          I approached all our talks with lots of preambles 

                             Never hinting that it all was a pile of big shambles.   

                          I never really cared for single of the sprog, 

                             And when they asked me questions, shrouded them in fog. 

                         I cringed at the crudeness and always made no bones             

                        That I'd keep them far from societal thrones. 

                         I'd graciously inch them to slippery slope, 

                            And anoint with fiction and falsest of hope. 

                            I always decoyed and kept a disguise, 

                            And always pulled wool over their eyes. 

                         I only ever did what I knew was right 

                             I'd lead them astray and employ a bluff 

                             While bravely trying with all of my might 

                             To separate neatly wheat from the chuff.    

 Mum1:               OMG! How fascinating!...those detailed accounts… 

Mum15:             Heart-warming and sprawling... 

 Mum4:               I've never come across an opus that sounds 

                             As tear-jerking, impressive and enthralling. 

 Mum27:             I see that their tries were always futile, 

                            And their attempts would never even tempt, 

                            Your Magnificence into deserting  

                            endless endeavour to shun them and pre-empt. 

Dr  H-W:             I showered them with fibs, confusion and doubts 

                            Pushing them firmly into their place, 

                            And shielding you all from those brutes and louts, 

                            I'd vanish their hopes without a trace. 

                         With saccharine words I enchanted hollow brains 

                            And under the pretext of granting a gift 

                            Of all their lives I seized the full reins,  

                            Then prudently and calmly cut them adrift. 

                        I'd string them like puppets 

                            And drive them round the bend, 

                            While never disclosing 

                            Their dreams were at dead-end. 

                        I also confined them to a dark genetic alley, 

                            Purporting I'm a saint, yet being a Machiavelli. 

 Mum19:             Through this doom and gloom, 

                           It sounds great fun!   

 Uncle H-W:        Once again from us all, 

                            My brother, well done!    

 Mum15:             My dearest angel, your ingenious ploy 

                               Has adorned my eyes with tears of joy. 

Uncle H-W:         can't help but tell you in front of this crowd 

                             How much of you our family is proud. 

Mother1:             I hope you rebuffed each of the mothers 

                            And from your heart banished every kid. 

                            Our pedigree needs no such sisters and brothers. 

Dr H-W:              By Eros Almighty, I swear I did! 

 Mum4:              Never forget that we perfectly suit you! 

 Mum36:              That our darlings you superlatively adore. 

 Mum27:              That no other child should ever uproot you 

                             In your appreciation of premier rapport. 

.Mum1:               Oh, my darling sweety, amid all the fuss, 

                           Nothing outshines the synergy of us! 

 Mum55:             Ohhhh, man! You always make me tick. 

                           Your loyalty is almost as steadfast as your d...k 

 Mum64:               I knew you kept our names from being dragged through the mud, 

                              With all mendacious skills of best-quality stud. 

 Mum4:                When we needed action, into action you've sprung... 

Mum83:               ...Knowing our future joys were tied to your tongue.  

 Mum1:                 Missing so much loving, I feared hittin' the bottle, 

                              But you'd fly 'round the globe to get us in full throttle.  

Mum15:                And at Christmas, on a Boing sleigh, 

                               You'd break through the walls of sleet and snow, 

                               To reach in time us rolling in the hay 

                             And give us all your  Ho Ho Ho!    

Mum36:                Ohoho! 

Mum4:                 Ho ho! 

Mum19:             And at Easter, while forsaking all those pests, 

                          You'd converge upon us pulsating to a beat 

                           Of a daddy eagle flying into his nests, 

                           All with cheery chirping and eggshells replete. 

 

Mum9:       I appreciate he likes all your pups,  

                   But mine seem to have taken most of his heart. 

 Mum17:     Actually he tells me I've won all our Rider Cups 

                   And he met my children as babies, for a start.... 

Mum12:        I think I can sense your nefarious intention 

                     To rub it in my nose at each truthful mention. 

Mum64:         My kiddos were older when to him we glided, 

                       Just as carte blance he joyfully provided. 

 Mum9:        Oh, come on, abdicate being dim, 

                       Mine are the most spitting images of him. 

Mum55:        I sympathize fully with febrile reaction, 

                      But with MINE he's had warmest interaction. 

Mum27:       All your delusions are idle and inane, 

                       Before he met MY children his life felt a bane. 

Mum83:       All your untruths, robustly I condemn, 

                     As he’d often call me “that crème de la crème”. 

Mum9:         I do not intend a nuisance to be 

                      But the same jargon he aimed at me. 

Mum7:         Not that I endeavour to put you all to shame, 

                     But his pillow whisper echoed me the same.   

Mum15:      It's not that your chimera I am poised to ration, 

                      But I can detect men's undivided passion. 

Mum36:     He's always admired how my children shine 

                  Amid figments of illusion, loud but asinine. 

Mum7:       I surely know that that is not true 

                   As he's stuck to mine like Gorilla glue. 

Mum15:      Eat all your words as he told ME rather: 

                     "Only your diamonds make me a father." 

 Mum4:      I hate to intervene, but be quiet, I implore, 

                     As even the uncle chose MINE to adore. 

 Mum64:     Only I could feel dad's palpable zest 

                    For loving MY children well above the rest! 

Mum9:     When his life was crowned with my precocious brood, 

                  The line of his affections was definitely drawn,  

                  To bicker with you, I'm not in the mood, 

                  But I know he's captivated by cerebral brawn. 

Mum36:      Fantasize forever, but mine were not precluded 

                   From simply being the best amongst the deluded. 

Mum7:      That yours mean a bit to him I am not denying, 

                      But where do you get such latitude in lying? 

Mum15:     I'm trying to preserve all patience I can master, 

                  And not warn your trance will end up in disaster. 

 Mum27:        He has repeated time after time, 

                     In no uncertain terms, as clear as can be, 

                     Eyes to eyes, in sensual prime: 

                     "You are the best thing that's happened to me". 

 Mum19:         How dare you go on mendacious spree, 

                       He must have been surely imagining ME! 

Mum1:          He has often told us he is in Utopia 

                     When lowering his glance and getting diplopia.  

Mum4:           I know that I excel among shabby trysters 

                          As he's always called me "supremo in bed", 

                          But I just wonder what the absent sisters 

                          To this debate might possibly add? 

Mum27:           I was calming down and then BAM! 

                           Did you really need to mention THEM? 

Mum1:            This is all getting out of hand and plus, 

                          Today's absent THEM are actually us. 

 Mum64:            I refrain from making you feel bombarded, 

                        But we should use THEM just for the discarded. 

Mum36:            I understand ...That's fine, but still…  

                         Only I perfectly foot his bill. 

Mum55:       All this nonsense I struggle to believe. 

                  Desist in inventing or I will up and leave! 

 Mum1:      I know that truth hurts, absorbing it is tough. 

Dr H-W:     I think I've heard it allso now just ENOUGH! 

                   What is the point in this discord surge, 

                   When none of you I ever wanted to purge. 

                    It is that THEM I picked for the deep, 

                    While each one of you I wanted to keep. 

                 You’d better resume without a frown, 

                   Or I’ll huff and puff and blow your houses down! 

 

Mum83:           AAAAAAH!     I hope your kindest heartthey'll never exploit. 

 Dr H-W:           You know too well that I'm so wise and adroit. 

Mum4:              They must never master single correlation 

                             With your impeccable, grandee reputation. 

 Mum15:            Our young have been thriving in the idyll we found!  

Uncle  H-W:        Yes, and that is why we all lived "underground". 

 Dr H-W:              And then we received this shattering jolt 

                           That rendered all we'd built desolate and bar 

Mum36:                ...that came like out- of -the- blue a bolt 

                             And crushed all our dreams we didn't want to share. 

 Mum27:              They need to understand all that we attest - 

                             That salient rules have long been set and laid. 

Mum12:              As the nouveau pushy they haven't been blessed                                                                                With our sublime generational cascade. 

Mum1:                We ooze this panache, cultivation, charm... 

 Mum4:                We have this demeanour that amply abounds 

                             In unparalleled suaveness that can never harm 

                             Anyone exterior to our societal grounds. 

Mum19:              The Hobson's choice they've dragged us upon  

                              Left us just with nothingness to choose. 

 Uncle H-W:       We used to con them, now have the world to con 

                              And  I am perturbed that they'll kill my Muse. 

  Mum1:             They've disintegrated our genre into farce 

                            Making tingly shivers deluge my spine! 

 Mum27:              Pertaining to genealogy, hollow and sparse, 

                            Them and us will never merge and align. 

 Dr H-W:             Oh, all my Juliets, how I wish that we all could, 

                          still just keep on lying and lying for good.  

 Mum64:             Oh, my Romeo, you are the brightest star 

                          That's ever in this world so dazzlingly shone, 

                          One has not been born with you on the par 

                          But even you know those days are sadly gone. 

 Mum83:             Could you forget covert creation 

                           Of all the memories that we devised? 

 Mum55:              Could you mislay all the elation 

                           That  subtly we monopolized?  

Mum4:                Would you have the heart to undo 

                            The tapestry of love we wove? 

 Mum7:                Or let them plunder through and through 

                             Our precious amore trove? 

 Mum9:                Would you allow them to even dare 

                              Tear up all our astute wits? 

 Mum12:              Are you sure you'd let them share 

                            With us all your priceless pieces and bits? 

Mum15:              Can you feel the effulgent glow of our match? 

 Mum1:               The thrills of our company that are heavens-blazing? 

 Mum4:                Having found us, de perfecto batch, 

                              Do you plainly see that we are A M A Z I N G ? 

 Mum83:               Could your heart, full to the brim 

                               With love and fondness like no other 

                               Squeeze us all out for their whim 

                               Giving our hearts a seismic shudder?           

 Mum4:                Do we still have your profuse attention?   

 Mum36:                In your heart a prime and utmost place? 

Dr H-W:               Undoubtedly evermore, my beloveds, 

                                As both I umpire and patent in this case. 

Mum9:                  Their tribal habits must never supersede 

                                Our camaraderie and deem it a goner. 

                                   You will preserve the riches of our creed 

                                  As jury and judge, our guiding Honour. 

Uncle H-W:         Wow! Wow! What do we do now?  

Mum1:                The misnomer phrase "love is all that matters" 

                               Is something that I find ethereal and grinding. 

Mum4:                  It's anachronistic in how it shatters 

                               Fact that Sterling (£) sign is what is truly binding. 

 Mum55:                All our machinations fitted like a glove... 

  Dr H-W:              And deserving children got all daddy's love! 

 Uncle H-W:         All your little gems we have loved and admired, 

                               And theirs can just dream on of what you’ve acquired. 


 Mum1:                How do I put it?...Find me words.....I despair! 

 Mum64:              Do you mean our future's gone shaped like a pear? 

 Mum1:                Oh, sister, you've cleared the dark, 

                              That can only happen with my equal spark. 

 Mum19:               All our munchkins are this exquisite breed 

                             Patently too good to mix with mediocre seed! 

 Mum4:                They think blood gives the right to demand inclusion 

                             And among our kinsmen to run amock 

                              With improvised weaponry of trespass and intrusion 

 Dr H-W:              While all I wanted was peace, my flock. 

 Mum15:               I still cannot fathom how they marshal 

                              Xrumbs of that intellect to throw in a spanner 

                             Into our works and not that I am partial 

                             But I never thought of power of gauche manner. 

 Dr H-W:               Those will cause trouble...They will pollute... 

 Mum1:                 Of us the reticent you should've followed suit. 

Mum9:                    What if the truth comes out to espouse

                                 The Eureka moment that gets others to re-think 

                                  Then mire our glory in salacious vows... 

Mum36:                   Just shout "Sexism!" and we're violets that shrink. 

           

 Dr H-W:                I am so sorry it's turned out this bad, 

                                 But I blabbed it out as a proud dad. 

Mum9:                      Who's hurt you the most, my Divine? 

Dr H-W:                    Vipers No 65 and 99. 

Mum64:                  I thought the other day you said "62" 

Dr H-W:                    She did it years before, these are both new. 

Mum1:                      And have you made up with  that "crazy 43"? 

 Mum4:                       Not that I am aware of as she's still at me.  

Mum83:                     What happened to that one.... I think number in its 20s? 

 Dr H-W:                  She is still fully, comprehensively dementis. 

Mum55:                   When exactly  germinated  on your side that thorn? 

Dr H-W:                Right around the time when my 86th was born. 

Mum 4:                  Seeing that you are heading towards 384, 

                                That must've been a very, long, long time ago. 

Mum19:                  And number 13 pesters, as I may I recall? 

 Dr H-W:                  No, it 's the 11...and her brawl after brawl 

Mum27:                    And the one who gives you quivers and tingles? 

Dr H-W:                    You mean the one whose geezer said he’d cut off my jingles? 

                                   At first a cool babe to be she was deemed 

                                        Then showcased madness like it's running out of fashion. 

                                  Then one day her husband threateningly screamed

                             "I'll make you remember this unfinished session!"

Mum7:                     Wasn't that number 46 of 33 instead? 

Dr H-W:                    No, that one had no husband but fiancé she had. 

                                   Stupid man, stormed in and saw red 

                                   Then made me dash hurting my flute 

                                   While all I did was warm up his bed 

                                   Totally unarmed in my birthday suit. 

Mum15:                   Thank goodness your melody was not taken away 

                                   As million renditions we have yet to play. 

Mum1:                        And the  inconvenience that's  No 58? 

Dr H-W:                      She refused to accept I had many to rotate. 

                                          When one day I saw her to get my breeding fix 

                                            I let it slip that on her I wasn’t keen 

                                            And she started crying "We are done at SIX!” 

                                          That is how I lost my tennis-ball machine!" 

Mum36:                       But then, sugar, we continued the streams 

                                           Better and bolder than you'd ever bred 

                                            Granting you copious gene supremes 

                                           Like off an industrial printer instead. 

Dr H-W:                      Yes, you went on and on and endlessly so 

                                      on the Lazy Susan that would never stop 

                                      Incessantly screaming "I want more and more!" 

                                      Making me ablaze with the sound of POP! POP! POP!.... 

Mum55:                    You're incredibly lucky to have our team 

                                      Make your life louder than a Guy Fawkes' dream. 

Mum64:                      And what about that one, especially mean? 

                                   Isn't it loser number 17?                                               

 Dr Dr H-W:              It's number 37, and she gives me creeps. 

                                        Her meanness is growing in bounds and leaps. 

                                        It commenced as I had seeds to bury, 

                                         When she first demanded that her I marry. 

                                        When I said "No way, for that I aren't fit", 

                                         She just ducked down and my jewels she bit. 

                                   Due to that rare of judgement a glitch, 

                                        I found myself in need of a stitch. 

Uncle H-W:               Don't worry, brother, go with the vibe 

                                    And all intricacies will soon untangle. 

                                    Your' re lucky your Amazonian tribe  

                                     Will vindicate your prolific dangle. 

 Mum15:                    Thank goodness for the relief belated, 

                                        That primary function was never abated. 

Mum1:                       Had the devil made it in cruel fate a twist 

                                    50 of our youngest would now not exist! 

Mum4:                      How would we have coped with such joy reduction? 

                                  Your Fountain of Life is our weapon of hope destruction. 

Mum27:                    Wow, wow, what would we do now? 

Mum9:                       What about the one "long dusted and done"? 

 Dr H-W:                  I think you're talking about 41. 

                                 Oh, my Goodness, I'm not here to slate 

                                 But her literacy should be stepped up to plate. 

 Mum1:                   And what about the rest of numerical spin? 

 Dr H-W:                To be very honest, straight for the bin. 

                               Dull and unsightly…there's no room for negation 

                               of their profound unsophistication.             

                               And now we're forced to amend our approaches, 

                               And drag them all out amid rats and cockroaches. 

                               I solemnly declare we'll need a staycation 

                               To deal with that level of infestation.  


 Mum64:               You knew the dangers and should have resisted, 

                              You knew how shallow and bity the ants, 

                              All those bugs would never have existed 

                              Had you simply kept your member in your pants. 

 Mum83:               But your raison d'être we'll continue to be! 

 Mum15:               Your guiding star that never fails! 

Mum64:                 Flashbulb you need to set you free! 

 Mum4:                 Hurricane in your deflating sails!  

Mum1:                 They can continue all their fuss,  

                            But wheels on your vehicle we will remain. 

Mum4:                  And this is one hell of a bus! 

                                The length and breadth of a bullet train. 

 

Uncle H-W:          They can enjoy of their voices the sound 

                             But the wheels on our bus will go round and round 

                             round and round. 

Mum1:                 Round and round! 

Mum19:                 The wheels on our bus go round and round 

Mum 55:               All life long! 

Mum9:                  It may sound pompous, but is ultimately true 

                                That we'll always worship perfection of you. 

Mum4:                      Oh! Your honourable presence in world's major cities 

                                   While juggling all the balls within our pact  

                                   Aavouring all our endless bees and kitties 

                                   Miraculously with your sizzling tongue intact. 

Mum1:                     You are the paragon of what a doctor should be, 

                                   The marvel of the Hippocratic oath and more. 

                                   The shroud of us fits you to a tee 

                                   While your offspring halo allows you to soar, 

                                   And catapults you with a mighty screech      

                                   To the elite heights that very few can reach. 

Mum12:                  Your regimen of love for righteousness is famished 

                                    With pathology that leaves your integrity unblemished. 

Mum15:                Your resilience, fortitude, profusion... 

Mum7:                   The laser-sharp wisdom with laudable speed 

                                 Without a scintilla of doubt or confusion 

                                 You are a manual our each child should read. 

Uncle H-W:              We're incredibly lucky to have 

                                      An endless plethora of cushioned protections, 

                                      From world's apex illuminati  

                                       Of dubious values, yet strong connections. 

Mum83:                   We want to remain the diamonds of your life. 

 Mum19:                   Cherry on your cake continue to be.  

 Mum27:                   We want all the attention in splendour that is rife 

                                  Like that glowing topper on my Christmas tree. 

 Mum1:                    No matter how deep and potent all this hurt 

                                      The pupil of your eye we'll always remain 

                                      Just, please don't ever tell us, don't ever assert 

                                       That all the rompypumpy was thoroughly in vain. 

Mum9:                  Please adhere to these honest plights... 

 Mum64:               …or we may unleash some unwelcome bites! 

Mum4:                   We will commend you ever more and more 

                              for not foreseeing that this would arise. 

Mum9:                  Yes, we'll repeat that, ostensibly so, 

                              But in the future, stick to the eyes! 

 Mum55:                I proudly announce the enlightening birth 

                                   Of the world record we coyly profess, 

                                   That no bodily organ on this finite earth 

                                    Has ever created THIS level of mess. 

 Dr H-W:               We will subdue all the pains 

                                  And juggle all the balls, 

                                  And all we've said here remains 

                                  Within the harem walls. 

 Mum12:               For all the noble sake, let's remain strong! 

 Dr H-W:               No matter how hard we act,  

                               To us they won't belong. 

 Mum4:                 It felt so good marginalizing the lot 

                               By agreeing to anything to keep our plan alive, 

                                Clambering with body and mind to the apex spot 

                                One that once we're in it, we'd triumphantly thrive. 


 Mum55:                Oh the joyous ecstasy of making their dreams sham! 

 Dr H-W:                 Excuse me! Wasn't it all as Adonis I am? 

 Mum1:                   Oh, well...Maybe...Feel free to believe 

                                That you are all that you think you are. 

 

                                 Devoid of imagination it's hard to conceive 

 

                                 That you would have ever got nearly this far. 

 

Mum36:               He he he! 

 

Mum9:                 Ha ha ha! 

 

 Mum64:               And all our de lux children,  

 

                              Grind your teeth and smile, 

 

                              Hide the truth and to all the questions, 

 

                              Retort your parents' style. 

 

 Mum1:                (sob, sob) I'm crushed  

 

                              And so under the weather, 

 

                              But let us not forget that we are... 

 

All:                        All in it together! 

 

 

 

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