It’s hard to know what I used to do when I had a spare thought
What did I do to procrastinate? When work wasn’t frought
But the truth is its being there is a distraction in itself
My productivity ceases as the papers mount my shelf
My inbox less important than this time consuming app
Wondering who is close by and if he’s a handsome chap
The urge to see if that man appearing next to me
Is a face, a torso, blank image or maybe he’s a she
If he’s after, sex, love or dates and better still can host
Seems to be the question I ask now more regular than most
But this urge I have to see these men and if they like my pic
Affects the tasks I’m paid to do and makes me call in sick
These many men defining themselves by their listed tribe
Makes me think I understand them and think I get their vibe
But the truth is all these hours spent checking who is keen
Are affecting my performance and my boss is turning mean
Only last week himself a member told me he that It has to stop
If you keep trawling that app all day I’m giving you the chop
But these threats do not scare me and I am prepared to sue
If he can spend all day on it and then surely I can too
That drunken chat between us both and those photos of his cock
Could end up in the wrong hands and give his boss a shock
In reality he can do nothing as I continue playing this blinder
With one eye on the job I do and the other one on Grindr
‘Twas the night before Christmas and on every iPhone
The hook-up apps were buzzing with men who felt alone.
Their stockings hung limply, no fire in their grate
But their fingers were typing: “Hi,” “Alright, mate?”
And suddenly Christmas, so cold and so heinous
Began slowly to thaw through the power of Venus.
“What u up 2?” asked one – “Not much,” t’other replied
As his chestnuts started roasting ‘twixt his festive thighs
“Not much?” thought young Tom, “Well, I’ll soon change that”
And he sent him a nude in a Santa Claus hat.
With a whoop, John received it, and leapt to his feet
Rushed over to the window and looked out at the street
Though outside winter snow past the lampposts was falling
Inside it was hot – but his pubes were appalling.
Kicking tinsel aside with his frantic young feet,
“Come round in 10” he replied, as he groped for the veet.
“Gr8, send location. BTW, r u smooth?”
“I’ll send him a hole-pic, his worries to soothe”
But as his hairless derriere winged its way through the air
Came a problem: though he squeezed, no more veet was there there.
“OMG!” cried the twink, “Bloody hell, ain’t it tough?
He wanted me ass smooth, he won’t want it rough!
If only there was something – someone I could turn to!”
“Ho ho ho” said a voice, “Merry Xmas to you!”
From up by the chimney came a crash and a clatter
As eight great fat reindeer and one even fatter
Old bear hit the roof – “Love a night on the tiles!
Quick, pass me a pie: I’ve been mincing for miles”
“Could it be, is it him?” gasped our unshorn hero
“That voice is as jolly as a double-mulled-five-spiced-chai-soy-latte from Café Nero!”
With a house-shaking thud, first a bum, then a face
Plopped down firm and resounding in his fireplace.
“Ho ho ho – oh, pardon me, there’s just one of you, not three”
Cried the soot-streaked old vision ‘neath the twinkling’s Christmas tree.
“I heard you a-wailing ‘bout your hairy knick-knacks,
And hark! Lo! Behold! I bring a strip of wax!”
“Outside now” came the message from John’s paramour
“Not a minute too soon! Quick, I’m one hairy whore!”
And so Santa’s experienced hands grasped his sack
And where once there was hairy excess was hair-lack.
“WTF?” Tom cried, “Who’s this doddering old codger?”
“Oh he’s no one!” John replied, “Just my venerable lodger.”
“Lodger my eye!” boomed the angry St Nick
“Why, I’ve just plucked your plump Christmas turkey, you prick!”
“Wait a sec,” Tom exclaimed, “Now I look at you twice
It’s you, innit Santa – old naughty-or-nice.
Since you’ve been instrumental in smoothing my way,
Why don’t you join us for a roll in the hay?”
Well, the jolly old man flushed and twinkled his eyes
And as he got busy between the twink’s thighs
He was heard to exclaim as he thrust out of sight
“Merry Christmas to all – and good God, this is tight!”
