Drivel Of Yore

Daily Drivel - Poodate: 7372


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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 
even more than you have the Daily Drivel.

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Friday 02 October 2020
----------------------
Third coming of the Messiah

The Meaning Of Liff
-------------------
CLONMULT (n.)
A yellow ooze usually found near secretions of buldoo (q.v.) and sadberge (q.v.).

I Never Knew That
-----------------
Hydrogen solid is the most dense substance in the world, at 70.6g/cc




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

Bike
(Mike)

Oh, knickerless woman on a saddleless bike
The smile on your face tells me just what you like.
I watch you each day as you enjoy your treat,
A long freewheel ride down the main cobbled street.

You smile at the baker, his dough promptly rises.
The postman's large packet contains no surprises.
The butcher goes indoors - he must beat his meat
The coal man knows just what to stoke to make heat.
    
And off for his lunch, you wave at the banker
Who'll cry "Mine's a large one" at the Crown And Anchor.
The milkman looks happy, see how his face beams.
He knows the best place to deliver his creams.
    
The fireman's hand is grasped tight round his pole
He knows his large chopper can bang any hole.
His helmet is hard as his hose starts to squirt.
Could he have guessed what goes on 'neath your skirt?
    
Oh panti-free lady, you do not feel shame,
For in your small world these men don't know your game.
But under the drain is where I get my thrill.
I work in the sewers, and can see through the grill.
    
And I've told them all, who work in this street
The newspaper boy, PC Plod on his beat
They all know your secret, but only I see,
And each day the drains take ten extra c.c.


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The Shit At The End
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