Issue 8, Volume 17 SHANE FULORGEE There was a young man sick of lock down Who had spent the last week in his night gown When there came a nice day The cops took him away For enjoying a long walk through the town. When he protested “My walk was essential”
The cops told him “Listen, mate, you must have gone mental” He cried “Uncuff me you brute, Or I’ll file a law suit” And you’ll be glad to hear his policy covered dental. For as they tossed him into the wagon His lower mandible was, you might say, draggin’. Because he did bequeath To the ground his front teeth He now drinks soup by the flagon. So ensued an IBAC investigation Which added to the whole conflagration. The two cops were cleared And at the young man they leered When they found him in a gown at the station. “Where do you think you are going?”, they demanded When on the platform they caught him red handed Boarding a train to Geelong With a surfboard so long That it would touch the roof it was up-standed. Shane Fulorgee is the mysterious alter ego of a third-year JD student. Comments are closed.
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