Bears and cubs and don’t just live in the forest …

 

Sat in the sun and most awares

of cubs giving them quite the glares

On Brighton beach, in their deckchairs

sat Goldilocks and his three bears.

See cubs like us, like men with hairs

all over their bodies and everywheres

And boy they knew, they answered prayers

did these Brighton beach burly bears.

Hell yeah I’ll stare at Ben’s, Pierre’s

meat, potatoes, their pommes de terres

And Goldilocks’ and Alastair’s

tight white speedos, those lucky bears!

Their big bananas, their two pears

The cherries each side of their eclairs

Just two small squares to hide downstairs

their bulging fronts, their derrieres.

As these four bears sat in deckchairs,

These mass of hairs most unawares

That no seagull, it fucking cares

who it shits on, not even bears!

And as they sat all debonairs

Splat after splat, in equal shares

Shit hit their chests and most elsewheres

Drip down it did their public hairs.

And as the bears were in despairs

Image destroyed, beyond repairs

In fact it’s not, well, au contraires!

Bird shit brings luck, so billionaires

may one day be these burly bears!