Mens 2nd XI Vs Wimbledon M4

Sorry this is so late fellas, art takes time. 

And ode to the toilet. 

What’s for breakfast, what a wonderful question. 

Options are plenty. Oh no the cupboards are empty. 

Pesto pasta doesn’t sound appealing. Pre match at 8, isn’t that healing. 

To the group chat I looked. Hoping for an answer. 

A croissant said miles, I’m feeling quite the chancer. I slid the croissants in the oven, was feeling like a dancer. 

Mixed with coffee… what an experience. But what beckoned was elusive and fierce in its appearance. 

Get to the game, Nerves are plenty. I feel some rumblings, hope the bogs are empty. 

Allergic to croissants?! I think to myself, during the game my mind was some place else. 

Not just in the hockey were the boys in white smelly. Number 88, his bowls were heavy. 

So as I sit here in the company facilities, 

I understand why I’m single, thanks to my unpredictable intestinal instabilities.

by Tom Binns