Granny’s Birthday Bash

It’s Granny’s birthday, and time for her and her friends to kick their heels up.

Image Credit: 
Public Domain

It’s here again, the day’s arrived for Granny’s Birthday pub crawl
We’re starting at The Vegas Bar and ending up at Ye Olde Fiddler’s Lost Ball.
The whole village has been invited and I feel a little dread
I think I might be safer tucked up at home, snugly in my bed,
But I know it’s not an option, so I’ll have to grit my teeth,
Cos Ethel’s gnashers are unstable and often end up at home with Keith.

Trouble-starting Barbara’s here, she used to be a nun,
But she got into the habit of a different kind of fun.
The girls are now comparing notes after a tot of double whisky
I should have kept an eye on them—that stuff just makes them frisky.
Granny says, “Here Barbara, that young Dickie, he’s a handsome chap,
I think I’ll go and chat him up a bit when I’ve had me disco nap.”

Keith is Ethel’s toy boy, a mere babe of eighty-two
Who likes to kick the night off right, with a pint of his home brew.
He says it lubricates his joints and sorts his clicky hip
And is vital for his Elvis act, it creates the curl of his top lip.

I notice that between the ladies there is something going down
There’s a tiff about who can get their legs highest dancing Knees Up Mother Brown.
Keith aka Elvis is the subject of the scuffle
He’s been playing fast and loose and now has gone and caused a right kerfuffle
But Ethel’s thinking on her pins, she knows how to catch his eye
She’s been practicing the ‘Knees Up’ bit and she flashes Keith her thigh.

The other ladies admit defeat; Ethel is ‘The King’s’ sweetheart
But now the girls clock Alfred at the bar and he’s looking uber-smart.
Granny’s set her sights on Dickie, she’s going in for the kill,
She’s woken up feeling groovy, after popping her energising pill.

Alfred’s only got himself to blame for wearing that plunging shirt
The ladies think he’s dressed like that because he wants to flirt
How are all the girls to know he’s into those more hairy?
He’s unaware he’s smouldering in that shirt of his, as he sips his Virgin Mary.

The ladies make a dash for him but Alfred’s off in a jiffy
He seen this lot in party mode, it’s scary when they’re squiffy.
Barbara’s got that look about her, that face says she means action
Alfred darts into the gents before he finds himself in traction.

We’re all a little shaky now, in a bit of a drunken stupor,
The make up’s turned into a cross between Gene Simmons and a wee bit Alice Cooper,
So before things get too messy perhaps it’s time to call it a night
Still, Granny’s gone and pulled young Dickie, to her Big Birthday Bash delight!

Teresa found writing en route to her other passion, Midwifery. She is a Thanet resident who still finds it a novelty living by the sea.

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