Drivel Of Yore

Daily Drivel - Poodate: 5429


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The Daily Drivel is being updated!

Yes, that's right.  We know you've been enjoying the 
Daily Drivel for a long time, but you have to admit it is 
rather in need of a lick of paint.  That's why we have 
produced a brand spanking new and thoroughly enthralling 
publication called Stuff Today.  Loyal readers of the 
Daily Drivel may have noticed that they have already been 
receiving the new exciting and wholly amazing Stuff Today.  
However, because Stuff Today is sent from your new (and 
equally astonishingly brilliant) website pooclub.com it 
might have ended up in your spam folder because your email 
client doesn't yet know how fabulous pooclub.com is.

So, we are advising you to make sure that you can receive 
email from stuff@pooclub.com because some day pretty soon 
Daily Drivel is going to end.

I know it sounds bad but sometimes you've got to move with 
the times, embrace the new, and bid a stoic farewell to the 
old, no matter how cherished it is.  I'm sure you'll agree 
that this move is for the best and you'll enjoy Stuff Today 
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Monday 08 June 2015
-------------------
Lubrication Awareness Day

Don’t forget to get your Poochoonz nominations in!
http://pooclub.pbwiki.com/Poochoonz

The Meaning Of Liff
-------------------
NETHER POPPLETON (n. obs.)
A pair of P.J.Proby's trousers.

I Never Knew That
-----------------
Back in 1919, the Russian transplant pioneer Serge Voronoff made headlines by grafting monkey testicles onto human males.




Poem Of The Day
---------------

Why I Like My Sarong
(Kate)

Oh, sing a sweet, sweet song 
About my sarong! 
It really is quite nice, 
Not like boiled rice. 
It comes from another country 
And it isn't crunchy 
Either. 

I like the way it wraps 
Around all my many flaps. 
I like the way it hangs 
From my many fangs. 
I like the way it dangles 
Like a million Bangles 
Singing Walk Like An Egyptian 
In the kitchen. 

I like the way it ties 
Around my ample thighs 
And never quite looks right 
Unless there is no light. 
I like it in the morning 
When I'm awake and yawning. 
On my bannister it sits 
Waiting to cover up my tits 
So when I leave my flat 
To go to the bathroom and that, 
I will feel all right 
And not give Ellis a fright. 

Oh, how I love my sarong! 
Some might say that this is wrong 
To love a piece of material, 
To find it so ethereal. 
I like it more than cereal, 
And I like that a lot 
And I've liked it for so long, 
But not as much 
As my sarong. 


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The Shit At The End
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