An Englishman touring Spain decided to put all things British on hold, And try his hand at sampling what this lush land had to behold. He trailed the quaint and narrow alleys, spied upon veiled senoritas, In the shadow of the bullring, followed his nose to the waft of the tortillas. Entering the taverna, he sat down and ordered a glass of scented sangria. The senor, sitting beside him was eating.. what? Oh mamma mia! The English man beckoned the waiter, Pray tell what is senor enjoying to the full? 'Tis a Spanish delicacy, guaranteeing virility. Senor, 'tis the testacles of the bull! The Englishman looked on in horror, not having the courage to taste this side of Spain. Oh well, I might come back tomorrow as long as it does not rain. On the morrow there he was gulping Spanish courage by the litre. Do or die, I'll have a go. As long as I control my sphincter. Give me your Spanish delicacy. he said after the umpteenth drink The waiter placed a dish before him, before he had time for a rethink. There staring up into his face, instead of the more normal, well hung size. Were two itsy, bitsy round things, sorry looking in their demise. Waiter what do you call this? Are you trying to fool the likes of me? The gentleman yesterday had quite a plateful, a substantial difference as you can see. Ah yesterday there was a bullfight, a glorious sight, senor, the waiter then replied. Heat, blood, senoritas...but unfortunately for you, 'twas NOT the bull that died!!
Reason for writing:
the first naughty joke when I was about ten was on very similar lines to this poem that I wrote. Also, I am totally against cruelty to animals and this poem, humourously puts the shoe on the other.
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