You might be a bastard if,
When driving near pedestrian huddles,
You swerve across the oncoing traffic,
To go through all the puddles.
Or when your ugly aunt come to visit,
You offer her a bed,
But that place of lodgings belongs to,
Your mangy dog instead.
Or when you're babysitting brats,
You get pizza delivery,
The time them up in front of you,
As you eat - misery!
Or before you go to the movies,
A laxative you strategically swallow,
And ask people to move aside,
Or in it that shall surely wallow.
Or when you want to play football,
And the football's flat,
You make do with the next best thing,
Your baby sister's cat.
Or when you go to the toilet,
You stretch plastic wrap across the seat,
The next one who uses it,
Gets a warm feeling on their feet.
Or when you go to the toilet,
You put shoe polish on the chair,
The next person upon the throne,
Has a circular dairyair.
Or when you're feeding someone grapes,
Getting them full of hope,
You casually change the food,
And slip them a bit of soap.
Or when you hose your front lawn,
And little kids come by,
You turn it up to its maximum,
And watch their shorts fly by.
Or make sure you drink lots of beer,
Whether boy or girl,
The take a new car for a drive,
And in it promptly hurl.
Or make sure you get the remote,
Then hog the TV,
Watch football or absolutely anything,
It matters not to me.
Or make sure to be a pig,
Leaving your clothes everywhere,
And never do any form of ironing,
And washing never prepare.
Don't ever cook any meal,
That's a nice thing to do,
Let your partner take care of that,
That's the thing to do.
Don't ever take the rubbish out,
Just leave it on the shelf,
When enough maggots are there,
It'll leave all by itself.
And those curtains over there,
That look so out of place,
Whenever you get some KFC,
Use them to wipe your face.
Make sure that you do the shopping,
And get the things you crave,
After all you're doing the shopping,
And you're a sort of slave.
Always hog the shared computer,
You've got important stuff to do,
Your partner will only waste some time,
It's better left to you.
But best of all join the Unwashed,
It's not so very hard,
Write yourself a two line poem,
And you're a Poetry Bastard!                                                    

Cheers from the Land of Oz