Hey, Mae, it’s me.
How are ya?
Remember the biddy lived across the road?
Yeah, the one all out in front?
“Blonde Bomber”, yer old man called ‘er,
‘n’ mine called her worse than that.
Well, she bombed all right.
Just saw her on the tellie,
Suing, she is.
Would you believe?
Suing the implant company
And now she looks real flat.
Seems she was stunning
For a year or so
Then ‘er silicone bags sprung a leak
‘n’ the poison’s filtered right thru ‘er now,
And she’s right up shit’s creek.
No, I’m not bein’ mean, Mae,
You know that’s just not me,
Even you’ve said I’ve a heart o’ gold.
But I overheard both our girls
considerin’ the “cosmetic” surgery.
Yes, Mae, even your daughter.
She looked real crook,
sorta grey and pasty,
I don’t fancy ‘er chances at all.
‘n’ ‘er blonde hair’s lanky
What little’s left of it,
She was a stunner, you may recall.
Yer old man calls yer Dumplin’.
‘n’ mine calls me Puddin’ ‘n’ Pie,
say they can’t tell the front from the back.
So I’m going to tell Fred tonight,
It’ll give ‘im such a fright —
To learn how far some women are driven
To become the fantasy o’ men’s dreams.
He’ll be sad when ‘e hears
Of the Blonde Bomber’s fears
That she’s only a few months ta live.
What’s that ya say, Mae?
I’ve upset ya day,
Putting bad news up under ya nose?
Yer really felt envy
‘Cause the girl was so dandy,
‘N’ now yer broke up with her plight?
I’ve no more to say, Mae,
It was on Ray Martin
‘N’ if you’d been watchin’
Yer’da seen it yerself.
I didn’t make up this news
That’s give you the blues
I just thought ya might like ta know.
I’ve gotta cook now
So call me back after tea
Right after “A Current Affair”.
Yer want ter watch “Country Practice”?
Well, right after that
Ring, and we’ll have a long chat.
Gotta go now, so cheerio, Mae.
© Roberta Sykes