A Toast to The Laddies

I went to my very first Burns’ Night Supper this weekend. I was asked to do the “Toast to the Laddies”. This is what I wrote. (P.S. Haggis rocks.)

Some myths on men, I’ll take apart.
The first, in really quite a simple mode
If I refrain from burp and fart
And don’t adjust my plums, during this ode.

Keep drinking lads and listen well.
From you that’s all I’m asking.
The second myth we thus dispel
With proof we’re multi-tasking.

The third one, put about by them
I can rebut expediently,
If I take off and drop my sock
And pick it up immediately.

The fourth is that we’re not complex;
We do what “William” beckons.
They even claim we think of sex
Roughly, every seven blowjob.

Seconds.

We are the stronger of the two;
We’re born to give the orders.
And yet we’re nothing without you
Our mothers, sisters, lovers, daughters.

You are the word that soothes our fears,
The one that asks directions,
The silent witness to our tears.
The hand on our erections.

So, since we’re doomed to hear all day
we missed on evolution,
Let’s give the toilet seat a spray
and call it REVOLUTION.

To The Laddies!