As read by the author.
Was much harder in the past,
With the female shop assistants,
You were just too scared to ask.
You’d come out of the chemist,
With some hand lotion and Bex,
A large tin of wart remover,
But you’d still have no Wet Chex.
And later that night in her room,
The tender moment when she’s
About to give herself to you,
You’ve not got any Frenchies.
You realise in future,
That you’ll have to change your tactics,
And somehow build the courage,
To go buy some prophylactics.
But those little rubber things,
That caused such trauma in my teens,
Can now be bought in grocery stores,
And in vending machines.
And with the new dispensers,
You’ve got no worries at all,
Put your money in the slot,
And hit the button labelled ‘Small’
One time they had the Frenchies,
In the spot marked “Hubba Bubba”,
And everybody said their chewing gum
Was just like rubber.
Next they’ll sell them at McDonalds,
(Where the food could be much better),
“I’ll have two Big Macs, a milkshake,
Some French fries and French letters.”
There’ll be confusion in the pubs,
Of that there is no doubt,
It’ll put a whole new meaning,
To the phrase “A large Sheaf Stout.”
And teenage boys from Cape York,
All the way to Wilson’s Prom,
Will know just what it’s like,
To feel a Fourex coming on
© copyright A Jack 1986